Feels Like Starting Over

Talia's pregnant according to my mother. Ex wifey called her to share the news so she could let me know. She and lawyer man are breeding. That's... That baby's going to be born with horns and a tail, I know it.

I'd actually wish them well if I hadn't found out Talia spilled the details of our marriage to some rag. All that goodwill I'd worked so very hard to feel towards her went away just like that.

The one thing I did right in our marriage was not get crazy and insist on having a kid with her after she "lost" the first one. I'd be tied to the witch forever.

My Ann and Helene's kid is going to be so much cuter than that spawn of evil.

Shit. I should take that back. I keep forgetting I'm trying to be a better person.

It's not the kid's fault it's going to be born to the icy bitch and the shyster them. I hope it's born healthy and grows up to be intelligent and well-liked, thus, guaranteeing it won't follow in its parents' footsteps. Poor kid.

Mom knows that I'm not a practicing Catholic. She knows that I only do the Big Masses when I'm in the mood and that's about it. So why would she scold me for not going to church on Wednesday (Ash Wednesday - which I actually forgot because the Catholic fucking church is not really on my mind much these days) and not giving up anything for Lent? Believe it or not, there's an answer.

She wants to make sure that God sees fit to make sure the baby's born healthy, and, since I'm the father, it's important for me to "be vigilant" while Ann's pregnant. (Maybe angry hordes are on the hunt for her and the bambino...?) I'm not sure if she knows that Ann's an agnostic.

I don't know when my mother turned into a religious freak and lost her grip on reality. You'd think that there would be warning signs or something. I didn't have the energy to tell her that if my being a good little boy is what would keep the baby safe, the poor kid wouldn't have a chance.

My mother is usually a very rational, grounded woman, so I know that all the excitement about Baby is making her a little loony. I'm thinking of humoring her and telling her that I'll give up scotch starting today. I won't, but I'll tell her I did.

The Morning After

That's a song by Maureen McGovern from The Poseidon Adventure. It won an Oscar for Best Song and became a hit the summer after I was born. Much like Eric Cartman from South Park, I know the whole song and can sing it for you any time you'd like to hear my butchered rendition. Mom used to play it so much when I was growing up, I didn't really have much choice but to learn it by heart.

When I was 10, I asked Mom why she listened to it so often, and she told me that if I really listened to the words, I'd find hope in them. The moment I did that, I understood. Mom clung to that song the way I used to cling to my favorite teddy bear - the one with the missing eye and torn ear I'd never let her fix. It was her comfort whenever my father would dole out his "punishment." The mornings he would leave for work and I would have to get myself off to school, I knew it was because he'd been too rough with her the night before. I could hear the muted strains of the song coming from their room, and if I pressed my ear to the door, I could hear Mom crying. She never wanted me to see her cry, so I would leave without saying goodbye. I knew that she would be having a particularly bad day if I still heard the song playing when I came home. On those days, I would go into her room and curl up on the bed next to her. We wouldn't ever talk about it, and we would always be up and have dinner ready before Dad came home.

When I got married, the one thing I insisted on was that the song Mom and I danced to be The Morning After. No one understood why we hadn't chosen a more traditional song for the occasion, and Talia continued to voice her displeasure long after the reception had ended. I never felt the need to explain myself to her, though.

The day Dad died, I left work and rushed home to be with Mom. Dad had suffered a massive coronary while he was changing a light bulb in the hall closet. It had been quick, and no manner of life saving measures would have saved him. He was probably dead before he hit the ground, they said. When I arrived at the house, the coroner had just left, and Mom was sitting in the living room, a glass of Dad's favorite scotch in her hand. She asked me to play that song for her, and for the first time in my life, when I looked at her face as it played, I saw hope.

[locked from Orlando]

I called Ray's boss today to see if he could get time off for Orli's party. Man, Ray wasn't kidding about that guy. He was gruff, no nonsense, and had no idea who Orlando is. I heard him ask someone there (a secretary, assistant, fellow officer maybe?), then I heard a lot of chatter before he got back on the phone. He said, and I have to quote this because it made me giggle, "Apparently, some of my female staff have heard of him." Then he asked who I was, and once it was established that I wasn't some nutball (not an easy feat, you know), he finally heard me out.

I explained that Ray and I are acquaintances (I didn't want to say friends in case it sounded too casual) and that I'm concerned about problems with the press at Orlando's party. I told him I wanted to know if he could please allow Ray to fly out and act as security for Orli since I already know and trust him. He said he'd discuss it with Ray and thanked me for my call. I'm not sure if that's good or bad. Anyway, he seemed like a decent guy and I'm pretty sure he'll give the okay for Ray. I'm going to make a donation to the Chicago Police Department Memorial Foundation regardless.

[/locked]

Birds of a feather really do flock together, don't they? I was thinking about Mom and her friends today (no particular reason other than general musing) and it occurred to me that they're so different, but so alike. If anyone ever got on their bad side, they'd probably rip them apart as a group. It's a little frightening how vicious females can be when they gather. It makes me very, very happy to no longer be married to one. I've got some stories about Talia, but they're best saved for a night of drinking with the guys.

I love my mom. She's the sweetest woman I know, but I know she's got a bitchy side to her when she gets pissed off enough. My bitchy side has got to come from her. Like mother, like son. I refuse to believe I have any of my father's temper. He was unnecessarily cruel and I would never dream of doing the things he did when he got angry. Okay, enough talking about Dad. (How's hell, you bastard?)

I heard from Sandy today!! She broke up with what's his name and is thinking of moving out here!! She can't stand HF anymore and is putting out some feelers for the east coast. I have to discuss this with Orli, but I was thinking that maybe she could work for me again. Once we start doing our traveling, we'll need someone to take care of the house and the animals, as well as things like paying the bills, easing our minds in general so we can be gone without worrying about things back home. She's amazing, I adore her, I trust her and I miss her so much! She was the best assistant I ever had.

And randomly: the way Orli squeezes his eyes shut when he laughs makes me want to cover his sweet little face with kisses. There is no one on the planet more adorable than he is.

:-D

I called Mom to check and see how she was doing, and she started crying. She'd gotten so used to having me and the puppies in the house, now it feels really lonely without us. I think I'll buy her a couple of pups of her own. I feel so bad. I called Peter and told him to go have dinner with her tonight. This weekend, I'll go up to Hartford to get the rest of my stuff and spend some time with her. And remind her that once the baby comes, she'll forget all about me! I know she really won't, but she'll at least forget to be so lonely.

------
My Orli thought of the day (in haiku form):

Little tea drinker
So careful when you prepare
You make it the best

(Told you I'd subject you to my haikus one day!!)

Janice called back. It's up to him to call her after the new year. She was happy to hear from me and asked how I was doing. I froze. Conditioning! But I said fine and asked for a referral for myself.

I have a sinus thing but it's not a cold. No fever. Just sniffles and congestion. Nonetheless, Mom's drowning me in chicken soup. And hot toddies. I keep passing out. Now, I just pour them down the drain before I get alcohol poisoning.

Peter broke up with the boytoy because he was too immature. Pot. Kettle. Black. Kidding. It sounds like they wanted different things from life. The boytoy wanted to go out every night, get drunk, do drugs, be an all around hot little party monster. And Peter's 34. Heh. I should remember that for the next time I talk to him.

Talia called to tell me lawyer man broke the lamp I gave her for a wedding gift and asked for the name of the store where I bought it. Bastard probably did it on purpose because he hates Tiffany lamps. She heard about Lesbian Knock Up 2007 and congratulated me on my impending fatherhood. Then she went into a long, sad discussion about the baby we lost and how he or she would have turned thirteen this year, she and I would probably still be happily married and I wouldn't have felt the need to "become involved in that gay nonsense" since I would have had fatherly responsibilities. I honestly didn't know where to start telling her what was wrong with pretty much everything that she said beginning with the lesbians. She did get the age of the kid right, though. God, me with a teenager? Jesus wept.

Ann and Helene came by. They've decided that Ann will carry the bambino. Good choice. She's prettier, more intelligent, athletic, great sense of humor, no visible deformities and I would actually have sex with her if they wanted to do it that way. Okay, that last part's a lie, but the rest is true. I love Helene, and it's not as if she could pass for the Creature from the Black Lagoon or anything. Ann's just got more of everything. It's kind of like me and Orli. On my own, I'm not bad. But Orli's got more of everything. Anyway, Operation Babymaker looks like it's really going to happen this time. And I've decided not to have anything to do with the offspring other than them sending me pictures so I have proof it didn't turn out looking like an ape. It's not going to be my child and if they want to have a father figure in its life, they can sure as hell do better than me. And if anything happens to this one, too, I don't want to be able to care so much. Mom's ready to play Grandma, though, and scolded me quite handily when I reminded her that it wouldn't really be her grandchild after the papers are all signed. She said, and I quote, "William, I would be a grandmother to that baby if Mickey Mouse was the father. These girls are my friends and have asked me to be involved, and I will be for as long as they need me." Then I made a comment about the set of ears that kid would have if Mickey was the dad, not to mention being born with big, puffy, white glove-clad hands. She kicked me out of the kitchen and finished her tea with the ladies. Ann and Helene were laughing, though. See? Lesbians aren't all granola-crunching, Birkenstock-wearing, "global-warming-is-real"-gabbing, "I-lost-my-sense-of-humor-the-first-time-a -girl-went-down-on-me"-doing, man-hating, feminazis. In fact, I would be willing to bet that most of them are like Ann and Helene. And, as with any group, the extremists get all the press.

Evie called just to say hi. She's so sweet. I mean, even if she wasn't my sister (allegedly - DNA test next month), I would really like her. Get this: she says stuff the way I do. I know it's the other way around and is due to Dad, but every now and then she sounds like me. Is that freaky or what? And kind of cool. From the sounds of things, her brother - our brother - is just like Dad. Poor bastard. But she told me all about her latest casting project and how much trouble they're having finding someone to play the lead. I told her I'd do it as a favor but she had to promise not to want to cast me in everything after that because I just wouldn't have the time and would hate to feel obligated. Then I told her about my engagement, she screamed and congratulated me. I love this girl already.

Wendell and Blade are in love. Er, I mean, they're just "really good friends" who never leave each other's side, snuggle at night and do the same cute little doggie moves that make Mom want to deck them out in horrendous doggie sweaters. Poor babies. If I see them donning spandex and going for bike rides, I'm going to nickname them "Gyllenstrong."

The new year is almost here and the possibilities are endless. Please, God, don't let Orli break up with me.

Will had told himself he wouldn't let what Peter had said bother him, and because he wanted to enjoy the first official day of his engagement to his sweetheart, he managed to succeed for a while. It wasn't until he decided to take a few minutes to call his mom and wish her a Merry Christmas that he thought about talking to Peter, too. Pete would be over at Inez's, along with the lesbians and his mother's gentleman friend, and he knew that his mom would put Peter on the phone.

Sure enough, after he had told her everything about the previous evening (almost everything) and listened to her gush for a while about wanting to tell all her friends the good news, she told him to hold on while she hunted down Peter. Will didn't have a choice, really. He didn't want his mom to know that anything was wrong.

"Hi, Will. Merry Christmas." Pete sounded contrite. Good, Will thought.

"Thanks, Pete. Merry Christmas to you, too." Will cleared his throat. "I just called to talk to Mom and I didn't want to tell her not to bother you. You know she worries when she thinks we're fighting."

"Will, I'm sorry. I'm a jerk. I didn't mean to dump all over you like that." Peter sighed, and Will could imagine him rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. He always did that when he was nervous or upset.

"You mean there was another way you wanted to dump on me?" Will smiled, not sure why he was kidding around. His feelings had really been hurt, but he didn't want to hold onto anything that could ruin this day.

"I'm serious, Will," Peter continued. "Listen, let me take you out to dinner when you get back."

"Okay, I'll ask Orli if he--"

"Just you," Peter said, cutting him off. "I owe you an apology and we need to talk some things out."

Will almost said that he was tired of talking things out with Pete, but he kept that to himself. "Peter, anything you have to say to me, especially about this, you can say in front of Orli."

"No, I can't, Will. Please?"

"Fine," Will sighed, relenting. "But, please, stop insulting me, okay? Every time you take a cheap shot it makes me question our friendship."

"Will!" Peter sounded so shocked, it actually startled Will. "That's the one thing you're not supposed to ever question. Remember? We always said that no matter what happened or who came into our lives, we were going to love each other the best and the most."

Will pressed his lips together and rubbed his eyes, suddenly tired. Of course he remembered that. He'd even told Kevin that when they'd started getting serious, forcing him to accept that Peter would come first. But that was when he'd assumed that no one could ever make him love them more than Peter. That had completely changed now and it made him sad that his friend wouldn't accept it. He knew he'd already told Peter that couldn't be true anymore, but he didn't want to rehash that on the phone.

"Remember?" Peter repeated when Will didn't say anything.

"I remember," Will finally answered. "But, I need to go. I'll see you when I get back, all right?"

When Will closed his cell phone, he immediately went over to Orlando and hugged him tight. Being with him was the only thing that mattered right now.

[locked to Orlando]

Kevin's clean.

I contacted the detective who'd interviewed me after the shooting and told him my concerns about the attack. He said that he would contact the doctors who tested Kevin when he was taken to prison and try to let me know if I have anything to be worried about. We can't let anyone know that they told him, but he said he wanted to ease my mind. I guess that means that we just have to get tested to be sure and then... Well, you know. :-)

[/locked]

I called the woman claiming to be my sister. What convinced me to do it was an old letter Mom found among Dad's papers where some woman told him about her children missing their daddy. Mom told me that he'd received the letter about two years after she and Dad had gotten married but had told her that the woman was the widow of an old friend. She never questioned it until I showed her the letter I received and the woman said who her mother was. It was the same lady who'd sent my dad that letter all those years ago. It's not definitive proof, by any means, but it's a hell of a coincidence.

Anyway, I called the woman (Evelyn Harper, 34 of Los Angeles) and told her I'd be willing to take a DNA test. She told me how her mother had passed away in March of this year and it was after her death that she found out who her and her brother's real father was. She was in the process of trying to find him when she started seeing things about me in the papers and one article did a background feature and mentioned my parents. She said we have the same eyes and that's what made her write me. Now, that's weird, because I was always told I have my Uncle John's eyes and he was Mom's brother. I guess Dad had some hidden blue-eyed gene or something. I would laugh so hard if he had a gay brother, too, and that's why he was so afraid for me to turn out queer. Anyway, I should stop rambling.

Everything's still sort of a jumbled mess in my head right now, but here's what I know:

Cynthia Harper met my dad in 1968 when he was stationed at Fort Bliss. They never married and Dad refused to let their children have his name. They had a son together, Tobias Charles Harper, who was born on September 17, 1969. Evelyn Rose Harper was born on May 20, 1972. Charles, as he prefers to be called, lives in Austin, Texas, works for a bank(!) and is married with three children - two boys, ages 6 and 2, and one girl, age 4. Charles wants nothing to do with the search or with me and, apparently, he looks very much like Dad. Evelyn lives in L.A., works as a casting director, is single with no children.

The thing that I can't get over is the fact that Evie was just shy of seven months old and Charles was 3 when Dad married Mom. How could he do that? Even if he didn't know about her, he knew damn well he had a son. And how could he ignore the letter he received, knowing he had, by that time, a two year-old daughter and a five year-old son who needed their father? I suppose I've already decided that she's telling the truth, but the test will let us know for sure. Mom said that no matter what the results are, she still wants to get to know this woman, and if Charles changes his mind, him too. She wasn't angry with me or Cynthia (Evie's mom) or Evelyn or Charles. She's not upset that Dad had another family he didn't tell her about, because she'd always had her suspicions. She's angry with Dad for abandoning his children.

I love my mother so much.

And I just might have an older brother and sister.

My best friend is 34 today. Instead of the fruit of the month club idea I'd had for a present, I ended up giving him a monogrammed briefcase. He'd mentioning needing a new one a while back. I figure it's personal but not personal. I was going to take him out for dinner, but he's got plans with the guy he's been seeing. He hasn't let me meet him yet but apparently they're getting serious and Pete really likes him. I'm glad. And relieved. Mom said that she's met the guy, but it was an accident. She ran into the two of them at the market. He's got dark hair and blue eyes and Mom seems to think that means Pete's dating someone who looks like me. Bless her, but I'm sure she's overstating it.

I'm just happy that he's moving on instead of making me feel guilty for not loving him that way anymore. I didn't mean to hurt him. I just fell in love with someone who's filled my heart completely.

Less than two weeks until Christmas! I've given out some presents already, but I have to get the others delivered before it's too late. I love this time of year. I may even go to midnight mass on Christmas Eve. I wonder if Orli would want to go with me. We could come home and open presents afterwards.

I'm really, really, really happy.

That is all.