Choices and Changes Read online

  “Yeah, I’m good. Andrew, come meet Annette.” He waved Andrew over.

  They all went into the kitchen and held up the countertop, beers passed around. “What are you doing here, Annie? And how did you get here?” Dean wondered briefly if she’d literally supervised the movers from Texas to New York.

  “I flew in this morning, crazy. I see your gears turning, Dean.” She laughed, obviously knowing what he was thinking. He watched as her face changed in an instant, from one thought to the next, sadness filling her eyes along with the tears. “I wanted to see Xander, you, and Dusty—make sure the three of you were really okay.”

  “Oh Annie, come here.” He pulled her into a tight hug, laughing when she shrieked.

  “Brute!” She smacked his shoulder, sniffling and accepting the paper towel Adam handed her, wiping her eyes. “Well, do I get the five-cent tour, or what? And where is the baby? I have to hold him and squish those cheeks.”

  Later that day after Andrew went home, securing a promise that they’d all come down to the house for dinner the following day, and Adam was upstairs with Tristan putting beds, the baby’s crib, and other odd furniture together, Dean finally had the opportunity to talk to Annette alone. “I know you too well Annie, well enough to know there’s something you aren’t telling me.”

  He watched her stand and walk over to where her bags sat by the door, opening one and pulling out a box, then coming back over to sit beside him on the couch. She set the box in his lap, her words broken and full of emotion when she finally spoke. “This…there are pictures and videos for Dusty and Xander. I, well, I thought it would be good for them to be able to see their mom full of life. Not just remember and miss her, you know?”

  “Yeah,” he whispered, staring at the box in his lap like it might jump up and bite him.

  Annie removed the lid and set it aside, reaching into the box and grabbing a four-by-six photo book with a blue pacifier and little white-and-blue booties etched onto the front of it. “This album has pictures from the hospital and the weeks after they brought Xander home in it.”

  The first image in the album cut like a knife, deep in his gut. Maggie sat in her hospital bed leaning against a stack of pillows, cradling baby Xander in her arms. She smiled down at him, his tiny hand sticking out of the bundle he was wrapped in as if he was reaching for her. Isaac sat beside her, he too smiling down at his son. “There’s a video in the box, Dean: Mommy Loves Me. Isaac took it the day they brought Xander home from the hospital. I realize he is far too young to know what’s happened or make sense of it. But, when he’s older, he’ll have questions and this box,” she took the album and placed it back into the box before sliding the lid back on top and closing it, setting it on the table in front of them, “is full of memories of Maggie for both of her boys, so they can carry her through life with them.”

  “It fucking sucks, Annie. They came here so Maggie could see Dusty and he could get to know his little brother—and to be taken away from Dusty and Xander, such a senseless act of violence. It makes me so mad that I want to beat the shit out of somebody until they hurt all over like I do.” Dean pushed the words out through clenched teeth, the anger roiling in his gut.

  All it took was one gentle touch to calm his radical nerves. “None of that now; you know how she loathed violence.” She stood and walked toward the stairs. “I’m going to go spend some time with my godson.”

  He could hear the sadness in her voice and wondered—how long would this go on? How long before they could begin to heal, to move past what had been taken from them? It suddenly occurred to him the one thing that they hadn’t done. When people died, there were funerals and wakes, visitation with the dearly departed. With the request for cremation and ashes being passed around in pretty urns, buying the house, moving and their lives being uprooted, turned upside down in the blink of an eye…no one had considered a memorial service. They’d abided by Maggie and Isaac’s request to be cremated, their ashes split between three urns: one for Isaac’s parents, a second for Dusty, and the third held the ashes of both parents for Xander. There had been no mention of a memorial, so it had completely slipped Dean’s mind.

  Reaching for his phone, Dean made a couple of calls and set things in motion to rectify the situation. It seemed like kismet that it took the arrival of Maggie’s oldest and dearest friend to knock some sense into him. Almost as if Annette was channeling Maggie from heaven, telling Dean, “Get up, get over yourself and keep moving. Otherwise, life will pass you by, darling.”

  ***

  Dean was actually shocked that Andrew and Adam managed to pull everything together in less than twenty-four hours. With Annette scheduled to fly back to Texas that weekend, Andrew argued there was no time to waste. “Besides, you don’t want her going home with only the memory of her best friend’s memorial service, do you? This way, you have some time to create fun memories before Annette leaves.”

  This is why Dean found himself dressed in his best Sunday suit, standing on Victor’s boat dock on the Sound, holding the urn with Maggie’s ashes. Dusty stood to his left wearing a pair of severely starched Wranglers, a white button-down with a black tie and a suit coat he borrowed from Andrew, holding baby Xan in his arms. Annette dug the cream-colored christening gown Dusty had worn when he was a baby out of one of the boxes in the basement, and it fit eight-week-old Xander perfectly. She stood to his right in a simple black dress, a well-worn letter clutched in her hands.

  Behind them stood the wall of courage, or at least that’s what Dean had decided to call them. Victor, Andrew, Mattie, and Astrid had opened their hearts and home to them for the memorial. Every single man that worked for All Cocks was present and accounted for—all of them and their partners. The entire Brennan clan was there, including an oddly frightening little Irish woman that scared the shit out of Dean as well as a very pregnant Kassie, her husband by her side. Dean didn’t quite understand how a woman that was due to pop any day now—with twins no less, could wear the black stilettos with pink soles Kassie wore, but to each their own.

  It was time. Sucking in a deep breath, he spoke from his heart. “Your mom’s due date with you was Valentine’s Day, but you were almost a month late.” Dean laughed; he’d decided to share something wondrous, a magnificent memory of life with Dusty, when they said good-bye to Maggie. “I can remember it like it was yesterday, Maggie sitting on the couch in the living room asking you, in her swollen belly, if she was ever going to get to meet you. And then when you were born, she held you in her arms and told you that you would always be loved. I didn’t think I’d ever seen anything more beautiful than her holding you and promising to always be there for you.”

  “She’ll always be with you, in here.” Dean tapped his chest, looking toward his son. Dusty rewarded him with a watery smile. Squatting, Dean worked the top off the urn and reached inside, grabbing a small handful of ashes and dropping them into the water of the Sound. “Sleep well, love, and be at peace. I’ll protect them, look after them, and make sure Xander knows who you and Isaac were, I promise.”

  Standing on shaking legs, Dean took a moment to gather himself before turning and nodding to Annette. Maggie had been his wife for more than half his life, Dusty and Xander’s mother for all of theirs. But there was a different kind of bond between Maggie and Annette, a bond only best friends, sisters of choice could share. The beautiful, statuesque women with strawberry-blonde hair and a temper to match had lost someone vital to her as well when Maggie was taken from them, a part of her soul that could never be replaced.

  Annette stepped to the edge of the dock, smiling down at the urn at her feet. “What am I going to do without you, Mags? Who’s going to be my partner in crime now?” Her shoulders shook as Annette took a few deep breaths, composing herself before speaking again. “I can’t remember a time in my life when you weren’t in it, and I don’t really know how to be me without you.”

  Her words tore at Dean’s composure, threatening to tear down the façade he’d e
rected before stepping onto the dock. “I love you Mags, and I’ll miss you, miss our late night talks, our girls-only slumber parties where all we did was curl up in bed, watch cheesy horror movies, and drink wine until we couldn’t see straight. You know, it’s funny; when I landed here in New York my first thought was, I need to call Mags and tell her how foggy and dismal this place is. I wonder if a time will ever come when I don’t want to call you or tell you my secrets.”

  She knelt and took a handful of ashes, holding her closed hand over the water. “That’s what scares me the most Maggie. That I won’t think of calling you first, that I’ll stop remembering you.” Annette turned her hand over and let the breeze carry the ashes from her fingers before standing and taking Xander from Dusty so he could say his good-byes to his mother.

  It was hard for Dean to not to follow Dusty when he took the urn and walked to the end of the slip. He could see his son’s lips moving, but the distance between them and the sounds of the world continuing to spin around them prevented Dean from hearing him. After he too spread a handful of ashes, Dusty stood and turned, smiling at him and all the worry seeped away. His son continued to surprise him, far more grown up than Dean gave him credit for at times. As long as they stayed together, took strength from each other, they’d make it as a family.

  ~ Chapter 22 | Great Minds Think Alike ~

  Adam rolled the windows in his BMW down and cranked the radio as he made the drive from Manhattan to Mamaroneck. David had finals and Dusty was shooting a scene the following day at the All Cocks studios, so the two of them would be spending the weekend in the city at the house Adam still owned. He didn’t think of it as home anymore. No, his home was in Mamaroneck with Dean and the boys. He was looking forward to some alone time with Dean, well, almost alone time because they’d still have Xander with them. The infant generally slept, ate and shit—pretty much in that order, though. Turning off the interstate onto the road that would take him home, Adam picked up the small blue felt box from the console, nerves getting the best of him once again.

  He’d talked to Dusty and David at length about his plan to propose to Dean and both young men had been ecstatic. “You don’t think it’s too soon?” He’d been concerned that Dusty might think Adam was moving too fast. Granted, they’d only known each other for six months and been together that long as well. But if the shit they’d been through in those six months proved anything it was that life was too goddamn short.

  “Hell no, Adam, I think you two are perfect together. Honestly, I don’t know if Dad could have gotten through losing Mom without you by his side. I’d be honored to consider you my stepfather.” Dusty had brought Adam to tears with his words.

  After focusing on nothing but the memory of Patrick and his work for so many years, Adam had surprised even himself when he fell in love with Dean so quickly. The ready-made family wasn’t expected—becoming a father to an infant and two full grown young men, and yet, he welcomed that too. His parents were flying in at the end of the month to meet Dean and the boys and Adam wanted a promise to marry secured prior to their arrival.

  Pulling into the driveway of the house he shared with Dean was welcoming, comforting. Having someone to come home to at the end of the day reminded Adam that life was for the living. Not for those that mourned daily. His office at the hospital no longer looked like a shrine to his life with Patrick, many of the images replaced with ones of him and Dean and their family. His favorite was a picture Kory had taken at Central Park. It had been an emotional day for them all, revisiting the place where Maggie and Isaac had spent their last precious moments together. In the image David sat on one of the horses with Xander in his arms, Dusty on one side, Dean and Adam on the other, all four of them grinning like mad. Adam had enlarged the image to fit an eleven-by-eighteen frame and hung it in the center of the wall behind his desk. It was the first thing he saw when he walked into his office and it was a constant reminder of the second chance at happiness he’d been given.

  The picture of him and Patrick in Ireland remained on his desk at Dean’s insistence. “There is too much love in this image to hide it in a box, Adam. No, it needs to be seen. If for no other reason than to remind your patients why it is you fight so hard for them.” Dean’s words, his understanding that Patrick would always be a part of him, much like Adam knew that Maggie would always be a part of Dean, forged a bond between them built of love, pain, and understanding. The pictures of their past lives, as it were, Patrick and Maggie, were now protected in several family photo albums that lined one of the shelves on a floor to ceiling bookshelf in the den of their new home.

  “Honey, I’m home!” Adam called out when he walked into the house, kicking off his shoes and hanging his keys on the key hanger by the front door. It was a housewarming gift from Chris and Linc, a large key with four hooks along the length of it, one for each of them.

  Dean appeared around the corner from the kitchen, smiling. “Hey, how was your day?”

  Adam stole a quick kiss before responding. “Good, better now, yours?”

  “Pretty good, actually.”

  It took a few minutes for Adam to notice exactly how quiet the house was. “Is Xander sleeping? It’s awful late for a nap, but too soon for bed.”

  Dean placed the lid back on the pot of stroganoff he was cooking, grinning at Adam over his shoulder. “Xander is spending the night with Astrid. So, it would seem we have the house all to ourselves.”

  Adam was off the counter and on Dean in an instant. They were kissing, biting skin, and clawing at clothes in an attempt to get each other naked. “Wait.” Dean laughed, pulling free of Adam’s grip and turning the stove off before following Adam up the stairs to their bedroom, their pants falling to the floor as they entered, shirts having been discarded downstairs in the kitchen.

  He pushed Dean down onto their bed, crawling on top of him and taking more kisses. “Goddamn, I want you baby, so bad.” He reached for the bottle of slick they kept on the bedside table, laying his long body out beside Dean. They’d stopped using condoms when they moved in together, unnecessary testing showing they were both clean to put Adam’s mind at ease. Thirty years as a doctor that specialized in HIV made him possibly the most sexually conscious person on the planet.

  Staring down into the eyes of the man he loved, seeing that love mirrored in Dean’s eyes, Adam watched as desire became confusion when he poured some lube into his palm and used it to slick Dean’s cock. “Are you sure?” Dean asked.

  He could see the unease in his lover’s eyes. They’d briefly discussed switching a couple of times, Dean seeming to be content with bottoming. But Adam wanted to share the one part of himself that he’d never shared with another. He wanted Dean to make love to him. “I love you Dean, and I trust you. I want you to make love to me. I want to know what it is that has you squirming, screaming and writhing underneath me when I’m inside you. I want to feel that.” He whispered the last few words, rolling onto his back and spreading his legs, reaching for Dean and pulling him on top of him.

  Not having to be told twice, Dean sat up and quickly moved into his space, grabbing the bottle of lube from him. Gone was the confusion; the look on his lover’s face was one of confidence and want, greedy anticipation. Dean leaned over him, his tongue sliding into Adam’s mouth as one of Dean’s fingers slid into his virgin hole. It was only mildly uncomfortable, no pain, this wasn’t so bad. When Dean added a second finger, there was a slight burn; a third had Adam questioning this grand plan to let his partner fuck him.

  “Relax baby, let me in,” Dean whispered against his lips. Scant seconds away from tossing Dean off him, Adam jerked and shouted when Dean rubbed his fingers over his prostate once, then twice, almost making him come from the touch alone. “There you are. See, feels fantastic, doesn’t it baby?” Dean cooed, licking the seam of Adam’s lips, sliding his tongue back into his mouth. He continued to fuck Adam with his fingers, stretching him, getting Adam ready to accept his girth.

  Removing his f
ingers from Adam’s body, Dean knelt between his legs and Adam felt the press of his cockhead at his opening. “Ready?” Adam nodded, hissing as soon as Dean pushed forward. The pain of Dean pushing past the tight ring of muscle at his opening was intense but brief. Adam did his best to relax his inner muscles, to let Dean slide all the way in.