Finding My Way Home

We went back out to the farm with some supplies after dropping the boys' clothes at my apartment.  Edan and I loaded his recliner in the back of his truck so Brendan could be comfortable while we worked on the house.  The boys and I followed Edan in the car.

We decided that the majority of the outdoor work could wait until the next day when we could get an early start.  Derek said that Sunday was the official day for lawn mowing at all of the foster homes he had lived in.  I agreed that it was the same for me.  Edan pointed out that he would need a little trimming done around the fencerow so he could assess the condition of the fence and measure for new pieces where they were needed.  He and Derek went outside to work on that while I helped Brendan get settled before I moved on to the cleaning.

"I feel guilty for not being able to help," Brendan told me as I swept out the living room.

"Well, if I hadn't done such a number on you, you would be," I reminded him.

"You only defended yourself.  I shouldn't have tried to rob you," Brendan countered.

"Ok, you win," I conceded.  "It is your fault."  I was joking with him, but he wasn't.  He looked completely miserable.  "Brendan, why did you try to rob me?" I asked him seriously.  "I don't mean why did you choose me; I mean why did you do it?  Be honest with me and yourself."

"I had no choice," he admitted.  "One of the gang members was on my back about going soft.  I had to prove him wrong."  He paused to sigh sadly before continuing.  "Instead, I proved him right.  I am a weak, limp-wristed fag."

"Please do not use that vulgarity in my presence," I said, more coldly than I had intended.  "Is that how you really think of yourself?" I asked.

"What am I supposed to think?" Brendan snapped.  "That's what I am."

"The hell you are!" I growled.  "Get off the cross, kid.  Edan needs the wood for the fence."

"What?" he questioned.

"I have no use or respect for self imposed martyrdom," I explained.  "You are a great looking, healthy young man with a wide open future.  Your potential in life is limited only by your attitude."  I let that sink in for a second, and then asked, "Is that what you think of me?  Am I a weak, limp-wristed person?"

"No way, dude," Brendan assured me.  "You're ok for an old dude.  You're like Ninja Dad."  I couldn't help smiling at his backward compliment.

"I like guys, though.  I'm gay," I reminded him.

"But you're different," he told me.  "You're not all girly acting."

"Thank you, I think," I said lightly.  "But you know martial arts aren't my only strong point.  I also enjoy writing; I am a fairly good cook; I like to sing on occasion; and I have been known to do floral arrangements and sewing."

"Damn! You are gay!" Brendan exclaimed, but his smile told me he was teasing.

"The point is, I am proud of the things that make me different," I said firmly.  "The only regret that I have is that I didn't have the courage to stand up and face who I am and what I wanted in life when I was your age.  Don't make that mistake, Brendan," I advised.  "It is easier to be accepted as a gay person now than ever before."  We were both quiet for a minute before I spoke again.

"Brendan, I am here anytime you want to talk about what you are going through as you determine who you are.  There are some other issues to deal with immediately, however, if you boys are to stay here," I said a little hesitantly.

"I only stole when and what I had to in order to survive," Brendan blurted quickly.  "I swear it will not happen while I am staying with you."

"I'm very glad to hear that, but it isn't the main problem at hand," I explained.  "I need to make legal arrangements to be able to keep you guys." I paused to work up the courage to ask what I knew would be a painful question.  "Do you think your father will sign guardianship papers for me?"

"I have no idea," Brendan confessed.  "I never met my father.  He ditched my mom when he found out about me."

"I don't understand," I told him.  "You told me that your father used to beat you and ..."

"No, I said your father never did that to you," the boy corrected me.  "When Mom died, I told the cops that I was going to live with my father just to keep them from putting me into juvenile hall.  I moved into the gang headquarters when the money ran out and I had nothing left to pawn."  He paused and looked around before speaking again in a lower voice.  "Derek's old man did that shit to him.  But don't let him know that you know.  He will tell you when he is ready.  It took him a long time to tell me, and I still don't know that he let me in on everything that sick bastard did."

"Derek will not know a thing from me, but thank you for telling me," I told Brendan.  "I can't make up for it, but I can make sure he feels comfortable with me so he will tell me what he wants me to hear."  I thought about his confessions of his own life for a moment.  "This makes things difficult for us where you are concerned, though.  Do you know anything about your father at all?"

"I know his last name is the same as yours," Brendan offered.  That offered little help.  My name is not all that uncommon.  "I have a picture of him and my mother.  It was taken before she told him she was pregnant."  He reached behind him and pulled out his wallet.  "This is the only thing I have left of my mother."  He struggled for a minute or two trying to remove the picture, but finally gave up on account of his bad arm.  "Could you get it out for me?"

I opened the billfold and found only two things inside.  One was the photo, and the other was a condom.  He looked down and blushed slightly when he realized that I had seen the rubber.  I just smiled, until I looked at the picture.  My breath caught in my throat.  I just stared at the truth in my hands.

 "My father is on the left, and his brother is the guy on the right," Brendan explained, oblivious to my astonishment.  "Mom said it was taken the only time she ever met my father's family.  She said my aunt was a total bitch.

 "She didn't talk to your mother the whole evening," I muttered, still staring into the faces in the photo.

 "My cousin is supposed to have taken the picture," Brendan continued.  He hadn't heard me.  "He was only like five or six years younger than my mom."

"Four years," I corrrected.  "I was fifteen and your mom was nineteen.  Crystal and I sat outside on the steps talking for like two hours while Wayne and my parents visited inside."

"What are you talking about?  What do you mean?" Brendan demanded.

"I took this picture, Brendan," I explained.  "At that time, I called your father Uncle Wayne."

"We're cousins?" he asked me excitedly.

"No, we're brothers," I answered.  "A week before my father died, he told me the truth about my life.  He explained that my mother and the man I knew as Uncle Wayne were high school sweethearts.  He had dumped her when he found out she was pregnant with me.  My father, or the man I called father, married her instead.  He was leaving to go overseas and she could go as his wife.  No one would know that I was conceived out of wedlock.  She agreed to it because she knew she would be well provided for as a military wife."

I had to stop for a moment as all the pain and trauma I had been through in those few months returned to hit me in the chest.  I had lost my entire family, my entire world, in just a few months time.  I thought back to those weeks after my uncle and mother had died. 

My mother's last words to me at the hospital were eating away at me.  She blamed me for my uncle's death.  That didn't make any sense.  I hadn't been anywhere near the car when he lost control of it.  My guilt over their deaths and the way that my marriage had fallen apart were tearing me apart.  Finally my dad saw that I was getting to an unhealthy point.

My conversation that night with my father came back to mind.  "Son, you are not the only one feeling guilty right now," he had told me.  "You are the only one who shouldn't be, however.  You didn't kill Wayne.  Your mother did that."  I stared at him in shock.  "She fought with him in the car and caused him to lose control."

"What would they have had to fight about?" I asked.  "What were they even doing together at 4 am?"

"Your mother and Wayne were having an affair."  He saw my look of shock.  "Yes, son, it's true.  It's time you learned a lot more truth."  He turned away and looked out the window as he continued to speak.  "Your mother never loved me.  She was Wayne's girl, or at least she once was, and spent the rest of her life wishing she still was."  He turned back to me for a second, but couldn't speak while looking at me.  He faced the window again, and said, "I love you more than anything, son, and I am truly sorry to tell you all of this now.  You deserved the truth long ago."

"Dad, Mom once told me that she had never wanted me and would have given me up for adoption if my father hadn't made her keep me," I began.  "Was she talking about you, or Uncle Wayne?"

"That would have been me," he answered.  "Wayne didn't care one way or the other.  He was always a very selfish person, even as a child.  He only thought of himself and what was best for Wayne, right to the very end.  He had found out that one of his old girlfriends was dead and he was going to go find their son and bring him home to me and your mother to take care of for him.  He was only doing it so that he wouldn't be stuck with a kid to raise himself.  He said it would have cramped his style."

A week after that discussion, my father was dead.  The autopsy showed no reason for him to die.  His heart simply stopped beating.  Everyone around me said that he grieved himself to death.  I was convinced that he died of guilt.

The trauma of all that I was going through at the time had blocked his last words from my memory.  Seeing the picture in my hands brought it all back to me.  I looked across at Brendan's face.  I hadn't lost my entire family after all.  I had lost my parents, but gained a brother.  I called Edan and Derek in and retold the whole story for them.

"Does this make it easier for me to stay here?" Brendan asked, finally breaking his silence.  I understood how mind boggling the news was.  It had thrown me for a loop as well.

"It makes it a whole lot harder for you to leave," Edan told him with a big grin.

"That's right," I confirmed.  "You're stuck with me now."

"I think I could handle having you for a brother," Brendan said slowly.  There were tears in my eyes as I embraced him much more gently than I wanted to at that moment.

"Do you think I could keep calling you Dad?" Derek asked quietly.

"I would like that," I nodded.  "I would like that a lot."

I knew that simple DNA tests would prove my relationship to Brendan.  Keeping Derek was going to be much more complicated.  Our house had to be approved as a foster home first.  At the same time, I wanted to keep Derek out of juvenile hall.

As it turned out, I rediscovered an old friend from high school who was instrumental in helping us achieve our goals.  Janice Wehrmann had graduated with me and was one of the few friends I had from the two years I spent at that particular school.  She had gone on to college where she had majored in social work.  She took a job with children's services, and in the nine years she had been in that office had managed to receive several promotions.  She was the County Director for Child Protection and Placement.

I was very nervous when I met with her, but I needed to be completely honest with her right from the beginning if we were going to have any chance of keeping our little family intact.  I had only told Edan and the boys that I was gay so far.  Janice would be the first person outside my own household to know.

"I need to know what it will take for me to be certified as a foster parent," I told her.  "There are some circumstances you should know about that could affect the determination of your office, though.  I am moving in with someone very special."

"That's not necessarily a problem," she mused.  "Will you and she be getting married?"

"No, that's not possible," I admitted.  "Marriage is not an option for us, at least not in the US."  I paused to take a deep breath before continuing.  "My partner is not female."

"Are you saying you are in a homosexual relationship?" she asked with what seemed to be more than professional interest.

"Yes, Janice, I am," I confirmed.  I let out a big sigh of relief as I realized that it had not been as hard to say the words as I had thought.  "You are the first person I have told outside my house."

"I thought I recognized the nervousness.  I also wondered when you would come out," Janice told me.  She saw the questioning look I gave her.  "I knew you were gay in high school."

"What?  How?" I sputtered.

"Well, you were always secretly watching the guys around you, all your friends were girls, but you never dated any of us," she let her voice trail off before adding, "Plus, lesbian gaydar may not be as highly tuned as gay men's, but it does exist."

"You?" I gasped.  "I knew it.  You were such a tomboy."

"I wasn't that obvious," Janice defended.

"You drove a truck that even the football jocks called 'Beast'," I reminded her.  "You wore a tux to the senior prom.  That was one of the reasons I danced with you so much.  It was easy to pretend you were a guy in that outfit."

"You danced with me, but pretended I was a guy?" she demanded.  I realized how insensitive that made me sound, but it was the truth.  I nodded, and she smiled.  "That's ok.  I was wishing you had been Carrie Seaver."

"You had the hots for Carrie?" I asked her.  "She was so dumb if she had owned a brain she would have taken it out to play with it."

"She was my girlfriend," Janice pouted. 

"No way," I scoffed.   "I never suspected, and there weren't any stories.  I would have never figured her to have enough sense to keep anything a secret."  I realized that I had just insulted someone that Janice had cared about, so I apologized.

"But you're right," Janice told me.  "She was as dumb as a post.  She went straight when we got to college, the bitch.  She's a total breeder now, with four kids."

"I'm sorry," I told her.

"I'm not.  When she dumped me for a jock boy, I met Beth," Janice explained.  "We have been together for thirteen years now.  We were one of the first fifty couples to go to Vermont for a civil union ceremony."

"Seriously?" I asked.  "Is it worth the trip?  The other states don't recognize them, do they?"

"Not yet, but that will change.  It has to," she said firmly.  "Beth is an attorney in private practice.  She is hoping to collect enough couples to form a class action suit against the state and force the issue to a vote in the state senate."

"Well, la de dah," I teased.  "Hooked yourself a lawyer, huh?"  She just grinned.

 "Back to my business, now.  What age and sex would you want to host in your home?" Janice asked me.

"Well, to be honest, I already know the kid," I confessed.  "He is a teenage boy and has been in the system for a few years now.  He's had a really bad time in some of the placements, though.  The last one was a bunch of bible thumpers who wanted to exorcise his demons."

"Do you know where Derek is?" she snapped.  I could see the genuine concern on her face.  "He was my last case before taking this promotion.  I took him from his dad, and helped get the bastard sent to the state pen."

"What happens to Derek if I say yes?" I questioned.

"I promise you, I will handle his case personally," Janice assured me.

"That makes me feel better, but it doesn't answer the question," I pointed out.

"Cameron, I have no choice on this one, at least to a point," she admitted sadly.  "Derek ran away from his placement. The rules are very clear and I can't get around them.  He will have to be placed in juvenile hall until it is determined that he can be safely placed in another foster home.  He is the key element here, though.  If he behaves himself, and gives the right answers to the right people at the right times, he could be out in a week.  He will have to work hard at it to impress them, though.  Runaways are always regarded as having two strikes against them.  I'll do everything I can to speed the process up on my side, if you can convince him of the importance of his attitude."

"Will I be allowed to see him while he's there?" I asked.

"I will recommend it to you and to the directors of the facility," Janice told me.  "You get told the real reason you should.  It makes both you and the boy look better for them.  It documents your relationship and interest in the boy.  The staff psychiatrist needs to be able to see how Derek relates to you and to your visits.  He has to be convinced that you would be a good placement for Derek in order for this to work."  She paused for a second to change topics just slightly. 

"Of course you realize that your home and everyone in it will be thoroughly investigated.  What does your partner do?"  She leaned forward in her chair, grinning mischievously, and said, "I want all the juicy details."

"Edan Draper is a professor of philosophy and ethics at the local college," I told her proudly.  "He is buying a farm just outside town.  It has a five bedroom, two-bath house and a large barn for animals and workshop space.  He builds the most beautiful copper fountains.  There is also 75 acres of land that includes a natural spring fed pond and stream.  We are in the process of moving there now."

"Damn! Do you want to foster a pair of lesbians?" Janice asked with a laugh.  "You do realize with a place like that, once I get you approved as a foster placement, I will never leave you alone."

"Why, Janice, I just can't imagine you being pushy," I quipped sarcastically.

"Shut up, bitch," she growled playfully.

"Since you have to investigate us and our place," I began, "why don't you and Beth come out to the farm Saturday?  You can help us move the big furniture with your truck, and you'll get to meet everyone.  I'll even feed you," I told her.

"One, what makes you think that I want to spend my day off working?" Janice countered.  "Two, what are you going to fix to eat?  Do you still make those killer oatmeal cookies?"

"Well, of course.  One batch of special recipe oatmeal scotchies for you, and one batch for the rest of us," I replied.

"You think you are so funny."  She thought for a minute and then admitted, "Maybe you should make two batches.  I have been waiting a long time for those cookies."  She saw me open my mouth to speak, but stopped me.  "Don't you dare remind me how long, either.  Theresa Boyer did that last week."

"Wasn't she the girl with the baby?" I asked, trying to put the name with a face.

"She was," Janice affirmed.  "Now she is the girl with the grandbaby."

"What?" I could not comprehend someone the same age as me being a grandparent.

"She had her daughter when she was in the eighth grade.  Now that girl has had a baby in the eighth grade," Janice explained.  "A beautiful baby boy."

"Dammit! We are not old enough to be grandparents," I exclaimed.  "We're only 33."

"Speak for yourself.  I stopped at 25," Janice announced.  "Now, get out of here so I can start work on this mess you just dumped on me."  I got up to go, but she spoke again, stopping me.

"It will be easier on Derek if he comes in to us, rather than us coming to get him.  That would put a huge black mark on both of you," she told me.

"I'll bring him in as soon as I can," I promised.

"If I can help anymore, just call this number," Janice said while offering me a business card and indicating the handwritten number on the back.  "That's my private cell phone.  It is only given to friends and very special cases."

"Which category am I?" I asked jokingly.

"After today, you are both," she answered honestly.

"I can't tell you how much this means to me, Janice.  Derek is such a great kid, and he deserves a break," I told her.

"You can't know how good it is to hear someone say that," she countered.  "We only get so many people who want to foster anymore; fewer still that are doing it for the kids, and even less that will take a gay kid.  You are the first person to take one who didn't want to cure the homosexuality some way or another."  We hugged and I left so I could make it to class for the day.

After school, I headed out to the farm to see how the boys were doing.  I stopped at the burger joint on the way.  I knew better than to face hungry teenagers alone.  Brendan didn't want to eat when I got there, though.  He had forgotten his pain pills at the apartment that morning.  He was feeling pretty low when I arrived.

Derek had finished the lawn and had started scraping the porch floor.  There were a few more boards to replace than I had estimated, but less than I had anticipated.  I discussed my meeting with Janice on the way back to town.

"I remember her," Derek informed me.  "She was nice.  I wish she could have kept my case."

"Well, she promises to handle it personally this time," I told him.  "She is bending the rules for us quite a bit, I believe."

"You're sure I would only have to spend a week in lock-up?" he questioned uncertainly.

"If you work with the system and with Janice and me, yes," I assured him.  "It is really up to you."

"If it means being with Brendan, Edan, and you, then I can do it," he stated firmly.

"That's the way to think," I encouraged.  "Stay focused on what this will gain for you, and be positive about it."

"I'll go now," Derek announced.  Despite Brendan's pleas for a little more time together, Derek remained adamant that he should turn himself that afternoon.  "The sooner I go in, the sooner I get back, Bren," he explained.

"I am very proud of you, Derek," I told him.

"Thanks, Dad," he said, with a hint of a blush.

Janice met us at juvenile hall when we dropped Derek off.  Before we went in, she cautioned Derek that the building had eyes and ears in every room.  There could be no mention of his relationship with Brendan.  The consequences would eliminate the possibility of placement.  She would broach the subject with the psychiatrist when she felt the time was right.

Before I left, I got a copy of the visitation schedule.  I went over the days and times that we would be able to be there with Derek.  I did my best to encourage his most cooperative behavior.  I knew it would be difficult being away from Brendan, but I told him I believed in him and that he could do anything he set his mind to.

"It's going to be hard to be away from Bren, but I'll miss you just as much," he said in a very small, boyish voice.  "You've taught me what it is like to have a father that loves me, and really cares about what I do and what happens to me.  I've never had anyone do that before, never."

Just then the worker came in and told Derek he had to strip down and put the dreaded orange jumpsuit on.  He looked at me with those big puppy dog eyes.  My heart began to break.  I wanted to hug him tightly and take him back home there and then.  I didn't though.

"Don't worry, Derek," I said, hiding my thoughts from myself as well as him.  "Orange is in this fall, and it will look good with your skin tones."  He grabbed me in one last hug, and then trotted off with the male guard to be stripped and searched.  A few minutes later the guard brought the clothes he had been wearing back to me.  I would not be allowed to see him again that day.

"It tears my heart out to leave him here," I told Janice once we were outside.

"Any doubts I might have had about all of this were erased just now," she informed me.  "You really do care about this boy like he was your own son."

"Yes, I do," I confirmed.  "Derek's a very special boy."

"He's a very lucky boy to have someone like you in his life," Janice said.

"I'm not so much," I protested.

"Still selling yourself short, Mr. Modesty?" she observed.  "Maybe you think anyone could do what you're doing for Derek, and you're right.  Anyone could.  The point is, no one else is or has.  As far as Derek is concerned, you hung the moon.  And after seeing the changes in him, just since the last time my department had contact with him, I am beginning to wonder myself."  I felt myself blushing and she must have noticed because she changed the subject.  "Cameron, would it be all right to bring another pair of hands with me Saturday?"

"Sure," I agreed.  "Will they be attached to a working body?"

"Smartass," she retorted.  "His name is Ephraim and he is twelve years old.  His father brought him to the sheriff's office two months ago and told the deputy to do whatever he wanted with the little fag, but he wanted the clothes the boy was wearing so they could be given to the needy.  He has not been placed yet, because of the lack of homes I trust putting a potentially gay kid in."

"I thought you weren't going to start on me until I was an approved foster home," I pointed out.

"By Saturday, you will be," she vowed.  "I'll make sure of it."  She jumped in her truck and left before I could comment on that one.  I wasn't sure whether to thank her, strangle her, or just run away from her.  I did decide to raise the tally to three batches of cookies, though.

The week passed without major incident.  Edan and I visited Derek every chance we had, and once the psychiatrist was informed of their relationship, Brendan was able to go with us.  Derek did better than anyone expected except me.  I knew he could do it.  By Friday afternoon, the psychiatrist announced that in his professional opinion it would do great, possibly permanent, damage to all parties involved if Derek were not placed with us.  Derek would be able to come home the next day.

The only things left to move at that point were the large furniture pieces, the contents of the two apartment kitchens, and three closets full of clothes.  The house itself was in move in condition as well.  The plumbing had gone better than anyone had anticipated.  Copper pipes made all the difference.  The electrical system had been completely replaced with an updated grade above legal requirements.  We didn't want to risk any overloads.

Even this did not require any major renovations.  The original wiring had been done well after construction of the house.  It had been run through metal conduits along the baseboards and up the walls.  We simply removed pipes, switches, outlets, and all.  Everything was replaced within two days.  This time we made sure that the electrical system was not so obvious; by disguising the new conduit with wood trim boards.

The dining room took the most intense decorating, so I did it before we moved in.  I gave it a Mediterranean look by applying earthy, beige wallpaper with a grapevine pattern to three walls.  The fireplace wall and shelf units were painted an off-white color.  Track lighting was installed to highlight the mantel and the built-ins on each side.  The brickwork of the fireplace was painted a light coffee brown.

Then I got creative.  I got two matching silk grapevine topiaries and placed one on each side of the French doors.  I took separate artificial vines and wove them into the top of the topiaries.  I then attached the trailing vines to the ceiling.  When I had encircled the room, I went back and every so often hung a bunch of artificial grapes from the vines.  White miniature lights had been strung into the vines and the topiaries, carefully hiding the bulbs in the foliage.  The final effect was very similar to an arbor illuminated by fireflies.

The dining room was finished just in time for Janice and her entourage to help us move the last of the furniture, clothes, and kitchen goods from the apartments.  She arrived right on time surprising me thoroughly.  She of course growled at me when I pointed that fact out to her.  Her companions were introduced as her life partner, Beth Prevett, and Ephraim Batts. 

Ephraim was quite the little doll.  At fourteen, he still had a strong childlike appearance to his face.  He had eyes so blue they looked like they would glow in the dark.  His nose still had that upturned tip that one would see on a little boy.  His soft pink lips retained that delicate pout of a child's mouth.  His hair was styled very conservatively and was a sandy blonde.  His hands were thin and soft, with long, beautiful fingers.  In short, he was a very effeminate looking boy.  The only downside to his appearance was the look of sadness that filled those icy blue eyes.  This was a boy who believed himself to be utterly alone in the world.

Brendan was still having to take painkillers at night to help him sleep, but had dispensed with them for the daytime.  This of course had the side effect that he slept late in the mornings.  Derek, who had been released that morning, offered to wake him, but Edan pointed out that the idea was to get him out of bed.  We all laughed as Derek began to glow like a stoplight.

"I'll get him up," Edan said with a mischievous grin.

"No," I protested.  "We don't want him thrown into shock or something.  I'll get little brother," I announced.  I knocked on the door lightly, but heard nothing.  I eased it open a crack, and called his name.  Still hearing no response, I stepped into the room.

Brendan, I discovered, slept in the nude.  He had inherited the darker skin tone of the family tree as well as the darker hair.  Despite being related, his morning wood was an inspirational sight.  He appeared to be about the same size as me.  I threw a pair of sweatpants at him, which caused him to stir a bit.

"Wake up, baby brother," I called, as I began to gather armloads of clothes from the closet.  "Put those on before you come out.  We have company."  I left the room after verifying that he was indeed sitting up.  He put the sweats on, but nothing else and groggily wobbled to the bathroom.

Derek and Ephraim were closest to the bedroom door when Brendan came out bare-chested and tenting the sweats with his morning hard on.  I smiled as I watched the younger boys' faces.  Derek looked at Brendan's face, and then let his eyes travel down his boyfriend's body, glancing at his crotch before going back to the face.  Ephraim's reaction was just the opposite.  He zeroed in on the bulge between the legs, glimpsed the face for a second, and then refocused on Brendan's penis.

The beds and other furniture were loaded into the two trucks and the clothes and boxes went into my car.  I was struck by the mental image of a peddler's caravan as we drove out of town.  Janice and Beth chose the middle of the parade of vehicles.  That way if they lost sight of Edan, they could wait for me to lead them.

Brendan and Derek had chosen to ride with Edan because by the time we had all the clothes for all four of us loaded into the convertible, there was only room for one passenger.  Ephraim kept looking at the car longingly, but he was obviously too shy to ask for the chance to ride in it.

"Ephraim, do you think that you could take shotgun for me in the car?"  He looked at me in shock.

"I've never handled a gun before," he said quietly.

"It is an old west term that means you ride beside me," I explained.  "I need someone to keep the clothes from shifting during the trip."  I paused shaking my head.  "Haven't you ever seen Gunsmoke, or Wagon Train, or The Rifleman?"  He shook his head while giving me a blank look.  "Have you ever ridden in a ragtop?" I asked, getting back to the issue at hand.

"In a what, sir?"  His look of confusion was growing more profound.  I motioned him into the car, and explained as we drove away.

"A ragtop is a convertible.  Have you ever ridden in a topless car before?" I explained.

"No, sir.  I have never even sat in one before now," he answered.

"Ok, kiddo," I told him seriously.  "You keep saying sir, and I keep looking for the admiral."  He started looking confused again, so I explained right away this time.  "I'm an old navy kid, and I prefer to keep the emphasis on kid as long as I can.  No more calling me sir.  Got it?"

"Yes, sir," he replied, and then giggled.  "Sorry."

"Do you feel like telling me a little about yourself?" I gently prodded after a few minutes silence.  "What are you and who do you do?" I asked, imitating Groucho Marx.  He didn't get it, of course.  Kids today know nothing of classic television.

"Well, I figure you already know everything," he began slowly.  "My name is Ephraim, and I'm fourteen now.  My birthday was last week.  I'm gay, and that means I am going to go to hell when I die.  My father told me so the day he took me to the sheriff's station and left me."  Tears came to his eyes as he spoke.  I reached over and covered his delicate, little hand with mine.  His fingers were long, thin, and soft as baby's skin.  He turned his face toward me and sniffed.  "I tried not to like boys, really I did.  I never did anything with anybody.  I don't want to be bad.  I don't want to go to hell."

"Ephraim, you're not bad, and you're not going to hell," I assured him.  "Your father is the bad guy.  If anyone goes to hell, it will be him."

"Father is a preacher," Ephraim asserted.  "He told me that I could not live with them any more because I would contaminate the family with my evil.  He said I had to be thrown away like the garbage I am."

"Any man who would give you away willingly is not only evil himself, but ignorant as well."  I took advantage of a traffic light to look him directly in the eye.  "I would be proud to have you as my son."

"Even gay," Ephraim sniffed.  I suppressed a shudder as he wiped his nose on his sleeve.

"Well, I'd be a pretty big hypocrite if I held that against you.  I'm gay, too, you know," I informed him.  "Edan is my boyfriend."

"No way!" he exclaimed.  "I didn't think I would ever meet anyone like me, at least not in person."  He stopped talking, as he looked out the window for a minute.  "That's how Father found out about me.  He walked in and caught me looking at pictures on the computer."  He swallowed hard, and then continued.  "I was looking at naked guys on the internet in his office."

"Well, that is illegal for you to do at your age," I pointed out.  "It's no reason to throw you out of the house, though."

"I wasn't just looking at them, though," Ephraim confessed while staring at the floor of the car intently.  "I was playing with myself."  He whispered it so lowly that I wasn't sure at first that he had actually said it.

"That doesn't matter, Ephraim," I told him.  "Playing with yourself is a part of growing up.  All guys jerk off, Ephraim.  Any man that tells you differently is lying."

"Father said it was a sin; that it would make me go blind; and that I was going to hell," Ephraim stated.

"Ephraim, hell was living with an uneducated bigot like him," I said firmly.  "You're free now."  He sat silently watching the scenery for a few minutes.

"Did you mean what you said earlier," he asked suddenly.  "Would you really be proud to be my father?"

"I certainly would, Ephraim.  I would be very proud, indeed," I assured him.  He leaned over and gave me a tight hug.  I pulled him closer on the seat and wrapped my arm around him.

When we got to the driveway, I stopped the car.  I asked Ephraim to hop out and check the mail.  He literally jumped out of the car and ran to the box across the road.  At the house, he immediately started grabbing clothes to take in.  He was burying himself under a virtual mountain.

"Whoa, kiddo," I called to him.  "Don't try to carry too many at one time.  I wouldn't want you to hurt the clothes or yourself."  He looked like a wounded puppy.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, looking at the ground.  I tucked my hand under his chin and lifted his eyes to meet mine.

"You don't have to hurt yourself to make people like you," I said.  "You're a great kid, and I'm very happy to have you helping us today, but I don't want to see you in the hospital with a hernia or something worse."  I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Janice had moved protectively closer.  "In fact," I told Ephraim loudly, "I like you so much that I am going to give you the cookies I made for Janice last night."

"What!" Janice bellowed.  "You promised me a triple batch just for me alone."

"It was a double batch and you know it," I corrected.

"Well, you can't blame a girl for trying," she shrugged grinning.

"Why don't you try finding the ones I already promised you instead of weaseling more?  I left them in a bag on the dining room table."  I grinned back at her.

"COOKIES!!!!" she screamed and jumped onto the porch in a single bound.  She rattled the door.  "AUGH! It's locked."  She leaned against the door, repeating the word, "Open, open, open…."

Ephraim was near tears he was laughing so hard.  Edan regarded Janice with the classic Vulcan raised eyebrow.  Derek and Brendan hadn't noticed her, as they were busy kissing behind the truck.  Beth looked on with disdain.

"Janice, you're embarrassing me," Beth whispered loudly.

"Wait until you see her eating them," I warned.  "I remember once she ate a batch straight from the oven.  She had butterscotch all over her face.  She looked just like a little kid."

"I've seen her do that with chocolate before," Beth admitted.

"I don't have to take this abuse," Janice pouted.  "Edan, open the door so I can eat my cookies in peace."

"Sorry, I have furniture to unload.  You can wait," Edan replied seriously, but he winked at us when Janice couldn't see his face.

"No!  I have been waiting fifteen years for these babies already."  She looked from one person to another, but got no sign of assistance.  "Somebody help me!" she bellowed.  "My cookies are being held for ransom."

"That reminds me, Cam," Brendan said suddenly.  He and Derek had finally stopped making out long enough to join the rest of us.  "Those cookies you left on the dining room table last night were really good."  Janice screamed, and Brendan broke into a big smile.  "Jeez, some people have no sense of humor," he giggled.  Janice just growled at him.

I finally took pity on Janice and went to open the door for her.  She went straight to the dining room.  I went back to help Brendan up the stairs as I heard Janice moaning in appreciation.  I couldn't help smiling at her enthusiastic reaction to my cookies.

"Save some for the rest of us," Beth called.

"Don't count on it," I advised.

Ephraim was fascinated by the décor of the dining room.  He wandered around the room with his mouth hanging open.  I turned the miniature lights on and he gasped.

"This is the most beautiful room I have ever seen," he whispered in awe.

"I agree," Beth added.  "This is fabulous."

"Thank you both," I blushed.  "It did turn out well, didn't it?"

"It's awesome, Dad," Derek said, looking around.

"These are awesome," Janice mumbled, her mouth full of cookies.  "Have one, Beth."

"Oh, may I have one?" Beth asked with heavy sarcasm.  "I wouldn't want to deprive you."

"Well, he did make them for me," Janice pouted defensively.  She looked around at all of us.  "Oh, all right.  I'll share," she said grouchily.

"You don't have to," I informed her.  "I made two extra batches for everyone else.  The rest of us have to wait until we have done some work before we munch, though."

"Is that a hint?" Janice asked suspiciously.  I just shrugged innocently.

We all went back outside except Brendan.  He started his climb up the stairs.  He was just reaching the top when Janice and I came in with the bed for his room.  We followed him up and into the bedroom with the box spring and mattress.  Derek and Ephraim were right behind us with the frame.

Derek showed Ephraim around the house while I assembled the bed.  Edan and the girls went back out for more furniture.  Brendan sat on one of the window seats and watched everyone emerge from the front porch.

"He's so perfect," Brendan mused aloud.

"Edan, Derek, or Ephraim?" I asked for clarification, although I knew the answer.

"Derek," he replied as expected.  "Ephraim is cute, and Edan is kind of cool for an old geezer, but Derek is perfection," he explained.  "I can't believe we're together sometimes.  I don't deserve him.  I don't deserve to be this happy."

"None of us deserve all of the good things in our lives, Bren," I told him.  "We also don't deserve all of the bad stuff we have to put up with either.  It's only when you balance the two against one another and weigh them out over a lifetime that you realize that you can't have one without the other.  They each contribute in their own ways to who we really are."

"You mean like the two of us didn't deserve the problems we each had growing up, but finding one another kind of makes up for it?" he asked.

"You more than make up for it," I assured him.  "In the span of three months, I lost my entire family.  In the same length of time, I have gained a new family that I love more than the original."

"My mother was my whole world," Brendan thought out loud.  "When she died, I felt like I had no reason to live myself.  Nobody would ever love me as totally as she did, and I would never love anyone else."  He stopped suddenly as he realized how his words could be taken.  "There was nothing kinky with my mom and me," he defended.  "I just couldn't imagine anyone else putting up with my shit the way she always had."

"Then one night, I ducked down an alley way to escape some unwelcome police protection and service," Brendan continued.  "Derek was in that alley giving some old skank head.  I hid behind some boxes and watched the guy spray his load all over Derek's face.  He paid and left; that's when Derek noticed me."  He paused for a moment, remembering their first meeting.  "He walked over to me and asked if I wanted to be next.  I was stiff as a board from watching, but there was something about him.  I asked him where he lived and told him I had never seen him in my territory before."  There was another pause as Brendan swallowed hard.

"He pointed to a big box behind him and said that it was his home now," Brendan related.  "That was last winter.  Derek was already shivering from the cold.  I told him to follow me.  I took him back to the bomb shelter where the gang hangs out."  He saw the look I was giving him and explained further. 

"There is an old hotel downtown; it's been empty for years. Back in the fifties, some paranoid Cold War patriot converted part of the basement into a bomb shelter with a separate power supply generator. When the place closed down, they forgot to clear out the shelter. It was still furnished when the gang found it. When I took over the gang by beating up Death, I moved in there. I couldn't keep the apartment where Mom had lived. They all knew she was dead. I was supposed to go live with my dad, as far as they all knew." He looked out the window again as he got back to his story.

"I told Derek that he could stay there with me," he remembered aloud.  "He told me that he would pay his way.  I thought he was talking about money.  He dropped to his knees in front of me."  The emotions evident in Brendan's voice were so powerful that I could feel his tears echoed on my own face.  "He said that he knew I wasn't going to hurt him for what he had done.  He told me that if I was going to do that, I could have done it in the alley where I found him."  Brendan swallowed again, and then continued. 

"I had never done anything with a guy before, but I didn't stop him," Brendan admitted.  "Derek gave me the best blow job I had ever had that night.  He kept working the streets for money and I found myself following him and watching him.  I would get so hot watching these sleazy old tricks getting their rocks off with Derek.  He knew I was watching, too.  He made moves on me, and I didn't stop him.  I wanted to do what those tricks had done, and when I did, it felt better than I had imagined."

"I had dated girls before, and as leader of the gang, I got what I wanted," Brendan admitted.  "The thing was, just watching a girl walk across the floor never turned me on before.  Derek could make me hard just by entering the room.  I realized that I felt differently about him than I ever had about any girl.  I never minded knowing that a girl was doing it with other guys when I wasn't around.  I was insanely jealous of Derek.  I wanted him to stop turning tricks.  I wanted him all to myself.  He was not a thief, though."  Brendan was still looking out the window as he kept talking.

"The gang noticed how I was feeling before I could even admit it to myself," he confessed.  "Death caught us on the street one day, and accused us of being fags.  Derek didn't deny it or confirm it.  He simply told Death that it didn't matter what answer he was given.  Death obviously had his mind made up already.  Then Derek said that if Death was going to beat us up, he could go ahead and do it, but that it wouldn't change anything as far as Derek was concerned."

"That was the moment that I really realized that I was in love with Derek," Brendan admitted.  "It scared the shit out of me.  I didn't want to be a fag.  Over the next few weeks, I tried to convince myself that it wasn't true.  I couldn't do it, though.  No matter what I did, or who I did it with, I couldn't stop thinking of Derek.  I finally decided that I didn't care what it meant; I didn't want to live without Derek."  Brendan turned to look at me again.

"Death stayed on my back about Derek, but he tried to disguise it so the rest of the gang would follow him again.  Nobody really liked him that much," Brendan explained.  "He used the lowering funds of the gang to claim that my softness was ruining the gang.  The thing was we were doing better than ever before.  He just didn't see it.  He brought it to a head in front of the gang and they agreed that I had better prove I was still man enough to lead.  That was the day we tried to rob you," he added for clarity.  "That night when we got back to the shelter, the gang was waiting.  Death had followed us.  He saw Derek and I make love in the park, and then he saw you kick my ass.  After the beating you gave me, I was no match for him.  A couple of the other guys kept him from killing me there and then, but Derek and I still had to leave.  Death still wants blood, though.  He has sworn that it won't end between us until one of us dies."  Brendan grew silent as he stared out the window at the south pasture.

"That's why I am so glad this chance to move out here came along," Brendan finally spoke again.  "I wanted to get back in shape before I meet back up with Death; plus I wanted to make sure that Derek is safe."

"Well, I've got news for Death," I said firmly.  "If that little shit comes after my family, he has to come through me first.  He won't enjoy that."

"My hero, middle-aged mutant ninja brother," Brendan joked.  I glared at him for a second before laughing with him.

I had finished the bed long ago, but knew that Brendan had wanted to talk, so I had stayed.  I went downstairs to check on the others.  Beth, Janice, and Edan were bringing the sofa in when I got to the bottom of the stairs.  Ephraim and Derek were taking boxes to the kitchen.  I followed the boys and overheard Derek talking.

"I have never seen so many pots and pans in my life," he complained.

"Edan is very proud of his Circulon cookware set," I explained.

"My mom has some of this stuff," Ephraim told us.  "She won't let anyone touch it."

"Edan is almost as bad," I said with a laugh.  I looked over at Derek and thought of Brendan.  "Derek, why don't you start taking your clothes upstairs?  Ephraim and I can finish up here."

"This kitchen reminds me of my grandmother's house," Ephraim told me as Derek left the room.  "Well, she's not really my grandmother.  She is one of the older ladies from my father's church.  She kept me a lot when my parents went out on church visitation and stuff.  She used to let me help her bake cookies and candies for the holidays."

"I'll be doing that this year, too," I told the boy.  "Perhaps you could help me, if you'd like?"

"I would like that a lot," Ephraim agreed.  "My grandmother used to make oatmeal cookies, but she put raisins in hers."

"I have never liked raisins that much," I admitted.  "I love butterscotch, though."

"Me too," Ephraim confessed.  "Derek and I each got a cookie a few minutes ago.  He said it was ok," he told me a little nervously.  When he saw me nod my head, he continued by saying, "They are really, really good.  I like your recipe."

"Thank you," I returned.  "Do you have any of your grandmother's recipes?"  I said it before I thought.  Too late, I realized that it might upset the boy to be reminded of all he had lost.

"Sure do," he replied proudly, though.  "I keep them in the same place she does; right up here," Ephraim said, tapping his forehead lightly.

"Maybe you will get the chance to teach me a few," I told him with a smile.  "I'll teach you a few of my secrets, too."  By this time, we were finished with the kitchen.  We went back outside and discovered that the only things left to bring in were the clothes in my car.

We each grabbed an armful of clothes and took them in.  Ephraim followed me upstairs since we both had clothes for Brendan and Derek.  I knocked at the door before stepping in.  The boys in the room jumped apart as we entered, both of them blushing hotly.  Derek's jeans were unbuttoned and unzipped.  I coughed and looked down at my own crotch and he took the hint.  He gasped and spun around to fix his appearance as we walked back out of the room.  In the hallway, Ephraim stopped me by touching my shirtsleeve.

"Are they gay, too?" he whispered.  I just nodded.  His eyes grew wide in wonder.  "You don't get mad at them for doing things?"

"They were together when I first met them," I explained.  "I can't stop what they had already started.  Besides, Edan and I do it, too."  Ephraim's mouth hung open in shock and I had to pull him along to get him moving back to the stairs again.  When we got back to the car, I noticed him looking longingly at the piles of clothes, and then sadly at the orange jumpsuit he wore.

"I'll tell you the same thing I told Derek," I said, putting my arm around his small shoulders.  "Orange is very vogue this season."

"I used to have really nice clothes," he whispered sadly.  "Father being a minister, we had an image to maintain."  He looked at me with tears in his eyes as he kept talking.  "When he left me at the sheriff's office, Father said he wanted my clothes back.  He said he was going to give them to the needy people that deserved them.  He fussed so much that the deputy finally agreed to it, just to get him to shut up and leave."

Ephraim choked back a sob, and then continued.  "I had to strip down in the same room that the criminals do.  I waited there for an hour before the deputy came back with one of these."  He indicated the one-piece jumper he was wearing.  "Father told them that he could not accept a son that God Himself would not."

"Your father was wrong, Ephraim, and I know someone who has proven it."  I took the boy by the hand and led him to the master bedroom.  I opened the computer armoire that had been delivered earlier in the week. I laughed a bit at his reaction. 

"Wow! I thought that was for clothes, maybe a TV," he exclaimed, stepping closer.  "This is really cool."

"Thank you, I thought so, too," I grinned.  I signed on and went to godmademegay.com.  I moved aside and motioned for Ephraim to sit down.  "The man that created this site is a preacher," I explained.  "He has studied the Bible for a long time.  He explains here what the Bible really says about homosexuality.  Read this before you listen to your father's stupidity."  I sat for a few minutes beside him and we talked about some of the things on the site.  I realized the time and told him that I had to go and check on everyone else and would be back to see how he was doing in a bit.  "Please, don't look at any porn sites while I am gone," I cautioned.  Ephraim looked as if I had physically struck him.

"You can trust me, really," he assured me.

"I'm sure I can," I told Ephraim.  "I need you to understand, though, that if someone were to find out that you did that here, I could lose custody of Derek and Brendan, and possibly even go to jail."

"I won't leave this site, I promise," Ephraim vowed.

I headed for the kitchen, remembering my promise to feed Janice and Beth.  When I arrived, I found everyone already involved in cooking.  Edan, Beth, and Janice were all busy with different aspects of the food preparation and the two boys were setting the table.

"I'm sorry, Janice," I began.  "I didn't intend for you to have cook your own meal."

"We're all right," Beth replied.  "Just because we're lesbians doesn't mean we can't find our way around in the kitchen."  The boys both burst out laughing and left the room.  I had to admit, I was grinning myself.

"If you've got Ephraim opening up to you, that's much more important," Janice told me seriously.  "He hasn't spoken much to anyone since we got him.  He has to be going through hell right now, but he won't let us help him.  You're better than nothing at all, I guess."  I was about to reply, but Brendan beat me to it.  He had just walked back into the kitchen.

"Are you kidding?" Brendan asked.  "This is middle-aged mutant ninja brother.  He can do anything."  Janice and Beth laughed until they were in tears.  Edan glared at Brendan, however.

"If he's middle-aged, what exactly does that make me?" Edan demanded.

"Older than dirt," Derek offered as he joined us.  I left the room so Edan could not see me giggling, but I did hear his response to Derek.

"Funny, that's what you're having for dinner; dirt," Edan snapped.  Janice and Beth were gasping for air in near hysteria.

Ephraim assured me that he had read only the site that I had shown him when I returned to check on him.  I just smiled.  I knew I could trust him to make the right choice if he understood the consequences.

We talked a while longer about questions he had about the site and his feelings.  He was relieved to know that he wouldn't go to hell just because he liked boys.  He jokingly suggested that he would like to share the knowledge with his father, but since there was a restraining order to keep them apart, he couldn't. 

Ephraim and I were just walking out of the bedroom as Derek came to announce dinner.  Ephraim and Derek bumped into each other in the doorway in fact.  Their heads knocked together pretty solidly.  They each stepped back rubbing their bruises and glaring at me for laughing at them.

"Just what I always wanted," I giggled.  "A matching pair of knot heads."  They groaned and walked away from me.  I followed them to the dining room where we all had hot dogs, hamburgers, and chips.  I looked over at Beth during dinner and explained that I had planned to do authentic Japanese stir-fry for them.

"We can come back," she answered with a smile.

"A lot," Janice added with her mouth full of burger.  Her manners had not improved any since we were in high school.

After dinner, Janice and Beth got ready to leave.  Ephraim got up to go with them, but I called out and stopped them.  I knew that Janice had planned for this to happen, but I would let it slide this time.  She was right, after all.  Ephraim needed someone to talk to about what was happening in his life and in his body.  If he were comfortable with me for that, I certainly couldn't turn him away.

"You would take him back to that place tonight if I didn't stop you, wouldn't you?" I asked Janice.  She attempted to look innocent.

"I never force a child on anyone.  The parents must ask for another child," she responded officially.

"I may be a new foster parent, but I know how it works," I told her.  "What's more, I think it's a good system in this case."  I looked at Ephraim and said, "I would not have known that this special person existed if you hadn't brought him along today."

"I don't expect you to take him right away," Janice began.  "There are the usual papers to be drawn up and filed first.  I was just thinking that you might keep him for the weekend."

"It's not up to me alone, of course," I said softly.

"He can stay in my bed until we get him one of his own," Derek offered.  "I will sleep with Brendan."

"Works for me," Brendan said with a mischievous wink.

"Horndog!" Edan scolded with a grin.  "I wouldn't mind having another person around the place, though.  We'll get the yard work done in no time."

"This is not a workhouse, Simon Legree," I told him.  "Besides, he's my kitchen assistant."  I turned to look back at Ephraim.  "That is if you want to be?"  The boy lunged forward and tackled me in an embrace that toppled me onto the couch, but he still didn't let go.

"Come on, babe," Janice told Beth.  "Our date just dumped us.  Men, they're all alike, even when they're boys."  Ephraim either ignored her, or actually didn't hear her.  "Unfortunately, I can't supply him with any money or clothes until Monday."  Edan answered for me.

"Don't worry about it.  He'll have everything he needs and then some."  I nodded as I held my new foster son.

"Come on, Ephraim," Derek called.  "You can wear some of my stuff until you get your own clothes.  They'll be baggy, but it beats the hell out of that orange shit."

"Derek, please watch your language," I requested.  "Profanity is proof of ignorance.  Is there a more intelligent way to say that?"

"Sorry, Dad," Derek mumbled.  He looked at Ephraim and said, "You will be more comfortable in some other clothing."

"That sounded better," Ephraim admitted.  "But you were right the first time," he added with a giggle.  He got up to follow Derek, but stopped at the doorway.  He walked back over to me and said, "Would it be all right if I called you Dad, like Derek does?"

"That would be fine with me," I told him.  I kissed him on the nose, and then said, "Now go get out of that thing.  You look like an orange Popsicle."

I walked outside to see Janice and Beth off.  I decided to wait a little bit to talk to them about my idea.  I wanted to get a little more information from Ephraim first.  They drove away and I went back in the house to see Ephraim walking out of the kitchen with a cookie in each hand.  What startled me was that he appeared to be wearing a dress. 

A closer look proved the garment in question to be one of Edan's t-shirts.  The sleeves, which were short on Edan, reached almost to Ephraim's wrists.  The waistline was only a few inches from the floor.  He saw me looking and grinned.

"Pop said I could sleep in this since I am used to pajamas," Ephraim told me.  "I'll save Derek's clothes for tomorrow."

"Pop?" I questioned.

"Well, I can't call you both Dad," the boy explained with a bashful grin.  He had a valid point there.

I walked into the living room and joined Edan on the couch.  He said that Brendan and Derek had headed off to bed.  He then informed me that he had allowed Ephraim one raid of the cookie jar before he too went upstairs.

"That's fine," I told the boy, then looked over at Edan.  "Are you about ready for bed, Pop?" Edan blushed, but beamed happily.  "You have that look," I said with a smile of my own.

"What look?" he asked.

"The one you say I get when Derek calls me Dad," I answered.

"It feels good to hear it, doesn't it?" he stated more than questioned.

"It sure does," I agreed.  Ephraim walked in then and stood in front of us.

"I used to kiss my parents goodnight before bed," the boy began quietly.  "I guess it's kind of babyish."

"Not if you're comfortable doing it," Edan told him.  Ephraim nodded his head, and then shifted his feet nervously.

"Do you want to kiss us goodnight, Ephraim?" I asked him.  He nodded again bashfully.  "I think that would be just fine with me," I told him.  He grinned and leaned forward to give each of us a peck on the cheek.

"Goodnight, Dad, goodnight, Pop," he said quickly and then ran off for the stairs.

Edan and I watched television for a few more minutes longer.  I started yawning, and then so did he.  At mutual unspoken consent, we stood and went to our room.  I was headed for bed, but I felt as if I were already asleep, because I was living a dream come true.  Not only did I have the man I loved to share my life with, but I had a houseful of family as well.  Life was good.