conversation, and treated as if he belonged.
And the most amazing part was he actually did.
Michael rubbed his hair with a towel and walked to the window in the room he'd been assigned.
It was almost midnight, and with the exception of the crashing waves and the occasional seagull,
everything was quiet outside. The bright moon as well as the garden lights made it possible for him
to see everything, and he took a moment to take in the surroundings.
The island was magnificent, and he couldn't wait to explore it in the morning. His cousin Steven,
who was one year older than Michael, had offered to give him the grand tour, and later on he was
scheduled to go snorkeling with his cousin Melissa and her girlfriend Tonya.
Yup. He definitely loved his family.
He put on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, and walked over to the door. Once he'd made the coast
was clear, he tip-toed his way down the stairs and sneaked into his grandpa's office. He closed the door, turned the light on, and headed straight for the bookcase.
The journals were dated—thank God—and neatly organized. He chose the ones for 1968, 1969,
and 1970, then sat behind his grandpa's desk and started reading. He knew he wouldn't be able to
sleep until he had answers for his most pressing questions.
January 29, 1968
Mary Elizabeth called me a deviant and demanded I go see a shrink. If I don't, she'll never let me see my son
again. I told her I'm not sick, and I won't expose my orientation to someone with the power to get me committed, or
report me to the authorities and send me to jail. She said I have no choice.
I begged to differ.
February 14, 1968
Mary Elizabeth has lost her mind.
Not only she refuses to discuss things in a civilized manner, but says she doesn't want to see me ever again. She
asked for a quick, discreet divorce and enough money to live comfortably for the rest of her life. I have been denied
access to my own house, and I've been ordered to stay away.
From now on I am to pretend Mary Elizabeth and my son are dead and if I don't, she will make sure I regret
the day I was born. She said I don't really want to try her patience. That she will not hesitate to show me and my
perverted lover a world of hurt.
I did not want to believe the implications behind my wife's words. I refused to think of her as someone capable of
harming a human being, especially herself and her own son. But she's blinded by her disgust of who I really am, and
also by hatred, jealousy, and shame.
She said one rumor is all it'll take for Manny's teammates to take matters into their own hands and teach him
how to be a real man. She said one rumor is all it will take for my career to go to hell.
Obviously she doesn't know me at all. Being an actor stopped mattering a long time ago.
I don't care about my Hollywood career. In fact, I have relied on Benjamin to let everyone know I am retiring
effective immediately, and he doesn't know where I have gone. What I care about is finding a way to see my son, and
retrieving my personal belongings from my house. It kills me knowing that Mary Elizabeth has read my thoughts.
That she now knows every intimacy I ever shared with the man I love. What if she shows my journals to others?
What will happen if such irrefutable, incriminating proof of my desire for another man falls in the wrong hands?
How would I be able to protect Manny from that?
I can't let her keep my journals. I can't let her take my son. I'm afraid for Manny. Terrified for my baby…
I don't know what to do…
"Jesus."
Michael rubbed his eyes and shook his head in disgust.
Knowing his grandma had succeeded in keeping father and son apart didn't make reading about
her antics any easier. He understood her attitude to a point. It'd been the 60s, and back then
homosexuality was classified as a mental disorder. She hadn't known any better and as fucked up as
it was, it was only natural she thought of Richard as dangerous. He could see why she wouldn't want
her husband to be around.
But to threaten to start rumors that could get Manny beaten up—or worse—was a completely
different monster. It was plain evil, vindictive shit. It didn't have anything to do with protecting her
son. It was about inflicting emotional pain and punishing Richard for loving a man instead of her.
But that was water under the bridge.
Richard and Manny were together, and Michael's grandpa had always been a part of his life. One
day he would read all the journal entries. He'd learn every detail about his grandpa's journey, but not tonight.
This was a happy time, and he'd rather focus on finding out how Richard had managed to stay
out of the public eye, and how he got his man back.
Michael flipped the pages and scanned the entries for any mention of Manny.
December 24, 1968
I am in Manny's house today.
Benjamin tells me that although Manny had every intention of selling it and had found the perfect buyers, he
couldn't go through with it at the end. I am so happy he changed his mind. I can't conceive anyone else living inside this
walls.
This was our sanctuary. It is the place where we managed to leave prejudice behind for a couple of hours and gave
ourselves to each other mind, body, and soul. It didn't happen often enough. I am convinced three times every day
wouldn't have been often enough. Not with the way we loved, needed, and craved. But once a month was better than
never, and worth every risk we took.
The house has been empty since Manny got traded to a team back East. He pays people to take care of it, and
Benjamin has a key for emergencies. I stole it from him today.
The time has come for me to decide what to do with my life. I am divorced. I can't see my son. I can't keep hiding
in Benjamin's house.
He's been incredibly supportive. More than I ever gave him credit for. Thanks to him I have a publishing contract
under a name that will preserve my anonymity; a way of making a living and send money to Mary Elizabeth. It was
Benjamin who helped me color my hair and suggested I grew a beard. He helped me change my look and came up with
my new identity as a reclusive up and coming writer. He even used his contacts to get me the paperwork.
R.B. Lewis.
That's who I am now. Someday I'll get used to it.
Benjamin is the best friend a man could ask for. He's the one who meets with Mary Elizabeth and gets to see my
son, and I'm extremely grateful for that. He has also kept me sober when all I wanted was to drown my sorrows and
despair in alcohol. He promised Helen he would take care of me, and he has. I can talk to him about anything and
know he'll understand.
Today I needed more than a friend, though. I must decide where to go, and that's something I needed to discuss
with Manny. I still hope she'll join me someday, and so he has a say on wherever it is we'll go.
He hasn't been in his house in months, but I can sense his presence. If I close my eyes, I can almost feel his arms
around my wais, and his tongue sliding down the column of my neck and my spine, then playing hide and sick in that
special place no other but him has ever touched.
If I close my eyes, I can pretend he's here with me…
That's good enough…
June 23, 1969
The island is officially mine.
I bought it from Benjamin and the deed is in my hands.
There will be no more clandestine meetings of kindred spirits. No more orgies between men living a deceitful life.
From now on only family and close friends will be welcome. Here I'll be able to write, and wait…
This is my safe place.
August 13, 1969
I went to Manny's game today.
I went to New Jersey to visit Helen and Robert and meet my new nephew, and asked Robert if he would go with
me to Pittsburgh to watch the game. Luckily for me, he agreed. Manny looked taller and stronger than ever. I was too far to see his face, but I didn't care.
He is alive.
He's safe.
August 20, 1969
I wrote Manny a letter today. I told him that I miss him. That I'm dying to see him. I asked if he has it in him
to forgive me.
I told him my new name and where to find me. I asked him to call me and included my number.
Now I wait.
September 1, 1969
Manny hasn't called.
September 8, 1969
Three years ago my son was born. Happy Birthday, Richard… Daddy misses you very much…
I did the right thing letting you go. I think I did…
November 20, 1969
I called Manny today.
After much begging on my part, Benjamin finally relented and gave me Manny's number. I could have kissed him,
that's how happy I was.
I can't put into words how I felt when I heard Manny's voice after so long, but I can say with all certainty that
nothing has changed.
I still love him. I still belong to him.
Manny was not thrilled to hear my voice though. He said he'll kill Benjamin for giving me the phone number, told
me to stop sending him letters, and asked me to please leave him alone.
He said that when he told me we were over he meant it...
I need a drink.
December 24, 1969
I had a few drinks with Manny tonight at our spot on the beach.
He hasn't called me, but I haven't stopped writing him letters. He hasn't returned any of them.
March 17, 1970
I figured out how to find my son. If I set up a trust fund to pay for his education and medical care I will know
where he is. I won't be able to approach him or talk to him, but I will know where he is. I trust Benjamin to talk
Mary Elizabeth into signing the paperwork. If anyone can convince her, it'll be Benjamin.
I'll drink to that.
May 25, 1970
I saw Manny today.
It is Benjamin's birthday and, per usual, he hosted a party to celebrate, and begged me to attend.
Manny was there, in the flesh, and this time I was close enough to see his face and inhale his scent. I almost pushed
him to the floor and straddled his body. I have never felt so out of control; so desperate to be consumed.
Manny didn't recognize me when I approached him. Not right away. I shook his hand and, in a very low voice,
told him I am his biggest fan. He did a double take and look into my eyes. I saw his Adam's apple bob when he saw
who I was. "Richard," he whispered. "My Richard…"
It became obvious calling me his Richard was a slip of the tongue, as he ran away from me two seconds after saying
it. But now I know.
Manny belongs to me, too.
September 8, 1970
Mary Elizabeth bought a house in Lake Tahoe. Thank God she's decided to settle down in one place.
Today my little Richard is four, and soon will be starting school. The moment he does I'll drive go visit. I'll stay in
the area and wait around his school until Mary Elizabeth drops him off.
I can't wait to see my boy.
February 14, 1971
Someone called the house today. They didn't say a word, and hung up after a few seconds. They called again three
hours later, but hung up even faster.
I know it was my Manny. I just know it.
May 23, 1971
One of my books is being made into a motion picture. Yet another thing Benjamin made possible. I owe that man
everything.
July 30, 1971
I received a letter from Manny today. He wrote me! It is only one line, and he wants to know what will it take for
me to leave him alone, but he wrote me!
I sent him a reply right away, telling him I will never stop reaching out to him. I told him it is time to come home. September 22, 1971
Manny hasn't written or called…
October 17, 1971
Manny's team won the World Series today, and he was named the MVP. I am so damn proud of him!
November 27, 1971
Today I saw on the news Manny has decided to retire from baseball and go back to Cuba. What does that mean?
Why would he do that? His family lives in Miami, and everyone know how bad the political situation is in his
country.
Is he crazy?
Why hasn't he called me?
November 30, 1971
Manny's number is disconnected.
December 12, 1971
My letters to Manny have been returned as undeliverable. He's not at his address anymore.
December 25, 1971
I went to the beach to have a few drinks with Manny tonight. I was half drunk, but I heard the boat. Strange, as
I wasn't expecting company.
Thinking some reporter had discovered my identity and location, I ran to the dock to warn them the island is private property, and I would call the authorities. I never did.
Standing there was my Manny, and he had luggage with him… lots of luggage.
He told me I was right; that it was time he came home. I am never letting him go.
Chapter Thriteen
The commotion outside the door woke Michael up.
There were people cheering and crying, and he couldn't figure out why.
He stretched his arms, then wrapped himself with the blanket someone had thrown over his
shoulders. Huh. He looked around. He was still in his grandpa's office… and he certainly hadn't
brought a blanket with him.
Busted
.
He shrugged.
He walked to the door and opened it. In the living area he saw his mom standing by the door
with a trembling hand over her mouth as she watched Grandpa and Dad hug the stuffing out of
each other. Half of the family surrounded them.
Michael wiped the tears from his eyes and approached his mom. She hugged him immediately.
"Oh, Michael," she said, "this is a miracle."
Michael nodded silently.
It was then that his Dad looked directly at him, and extended his arm. Michael joined them in
their first official Grandpa, Dad, and Son hug. "Thank you, Michael," his father sobbed. "Thank you for figuring out the truth."
Michael cried his heart out for the first time since finding out seven months ago he and Charlie
would not be going to the same university. Those had been tears of anguish, though, and this was all
joy.
Over him someone took a picture. Michael looked up and grinned at his best friend.