Second Wind

Chapter One

Ben

I left the lawyer's office after signing away my life and drove to Florham Park. I pulled into the driveway of the three-bedroom ranch house that now owned me. Yeah, I'd just bought the house but for the next twenty years on the first of every month it was going to remind me that I was the one who was owned.

I parked in the driveway, opened the back door and hooked Lula up to her leash, then we just stood there and stared at the house. It was more space than I needed and my friends had urged me to buy a townhouse instead but I'm more of a house person. Besides, condos had so many restrictions on pets, even a quiet little beagle like Lula. And as expensive as the house was, I could afford it. Not that I made tons of money, but I'd spent ten years saving up, not with this in mind exactly, but I still had a good down payment.

My name is Ben Donnelly. I'm 32 years old. I've worked as an accountant for a large firm in Livingston since graduating from Montclair State ten years ago. I love my job and it is the main reason I bought this house. I've only got a three-mile commute. Yeah, it's an expensive area to live in but I had a little help with the down payment. My parents divorced when I was ten and I'm an only child, so they've made a lifestyle out of competing for my love. They seem to think that I can't possibly love both of them. Actually, I do, though I find it hard to like either of them a lot of the time. Dad is a dermatologist with a Park Avenue practice and lives in the city with his new wife, Lori, who is three years younger than me. Mom is an interior designer and is married to Sam, the CFO of a small pharmaceutical company. They live in an overstated mansion in Short Hills, which is where I'd been staying for a few months since I moved out of Paul's house. Anyway, they each kicked in quite a bit when I told them I wanted to buy a place of my own. And since Paul had made so much more than me I had been saving a good chunk of my earnings for years, so I wound up with a fifty percent down payment. Life sucks sometimes, you know?

I'm not really the spoiled brat that makes me sound like. I know I've been very fortunate in my life, financially anyhow. And I know my parents love me, though most of the time they each seem to love themselves a lot more. In one area I'm pretty lucky with Mother (she wants me to call her Gale so I insist on calling her Mother) and Dad. Neither one had a problem when I told them I was gay. I thought at the least they'd be upset over never having grandchildren but Mother insists that she'll never be old enough to be a grandmother and I think Dad is thinking about starting a new family with Lori.

"Let's go take a look at your new home, girl. Last one, I promise."

I let us in, turned Lula loose and wandered around the empty house. Formal living room and dining room, eat-in kitchen with a counter separating it from a family room, and the bedrooms and two baths down the hall. It really was a nice place although it would be a lot nicer with furniture and stuff. Empty, it was a little spooky. I stopped in the master bedroom in front of the mirror-covered closet doors and stared at the reflection. Just me and a big empty room. Without any warning there were tears running down my face. I backed away from the mirror and bumped into the wall opposite it and then slid down until I was sitting on the floor. I put my head in my hands and lost it, lost all of the control I'd been maintaining since that horrible day in April.

Fuck! This was supposed to be a happy day, a fresh new start. And all I could do was think about that Monday when my life ground to a halt. It hadn't been a bad day for a Monday. Tax season had ended the week before and we were all taking it easy for the first time in months. I'd spent quite a bit of the day thinking about the party I wanted. We hadn't talked about it much, but Paul and I had agreed months before that ten years together deserved a celebration and our anniversary was coming up in June. Monday was my bowling night so I didn't see Paul after work. I'd joined a gay league the previous fall and since we weren't able to eat together anyway, after a while Paul had started working late and grabbing a bite to eat on this way home on Mondays. It was after eleven when I got in from bowling and his car still wasn't in the garage. That was unusual. The light on the answering machine was blinking in the dark kitchen when I walked in. I hit the button.

"Hey, Ben, it's me. I just wanted to let you know that I'm okay but I won't be home tonight. I'll call you tomorrow."

That was it. Nothing more. Won't be home? What the hell was he talking about? Where was he? In nearly ten years together he'd been home every night. I didn't sleep much that night, tossing and turning alone in our king-size bed. I dragged myself into work the next morning. By the time he called at ten I was totally stressed out but since I shared an office with three other guys I tried to act cool.

"So what's up, Paul? Where are you?"

"Right now I'm at work." He paused a few seconds and seemed hesitant when he went on. It was so unlike him. "I need some time to think, Ben."

"Think? About what?" Another long pause.

"I've met someone. I have to decide what I'm going to do."

I felt like I'd been punched in the stomach. My hands started to shake and I was having trouble breathing.

"Look, Ben, this isn't a good time to talk. I'll call you in a couple of days. Like I said, I need time to think. I'll stop by the house for a few things this afternoon before you get home. Don't worry about me, I'll be okay." As if worrying about him would be foremost in my mind after the bombshell he'd just dropped.

He hung up. Two days went by with no word from him. Every time I called his office he was with a client. Every time I called his cell phone it went right to voice mail. He finally called me at work Friday morning and suggested we meet for lunch.

He always looked so good in his tailor-made suits but when I looked at his face I could tell that this wasn't going to be good. He waited until we had ordered and the waitress had brought our drinks to tell me.

"It's just not working for us, Ben. I can't do this any more."

"What do you mean, not working? It's working for me. You haven't said anything about being unhappy."

"Maybe unhappy is too strong a word but I haven't been happy. We've just been going through the motions for so long with nothing behind them."

"Nothing behind them? I love you and I thought you loved me. I just don’t know what you're talking about. I've been happy and I've tried to make you happy. I've tried to be just what you wanted me to be and I've done everything you ever asked."

"I know, Ben. You've been good to me. But I need something more."

"Like this guy you've met? Who is he, anyway? Where'd he come from?"

"I represented him in an auto accident case last fall. When I got a good settlement for him, he took me out for a drink to celebrate. One thing led to another."

Oh God, this couldn't be happening. I looked around the restaurant, wondering why no one else was dying.

"How long have you been seeing him? How could you be seeing him? We're together all the time." I still couldn't believe this was real.

"It's been a few of months. We have lunch a couple of times a week and have been spending time together Monday evenings."

"What's he got that I haven't?" God, I sounded like an old cliché.

"I can't put my finger on it but he's exciting. He challenges me, surprises me. He's fun. We haven't been fun in ages, Ben."

"Fun. You want to throw out ten good years for a little fun?"

"I don’t want to argue, Ben. And I really don’t want to hurt you but there's no other way. I think in the long run you'll see this is best for both of us."

And that was that. Except for one final slap, adding insult to injury.

"I hate to do this, Ben, but I'm going to have to ask you to move out as soon as possible. It is my house, you know. I'm staying at the Hilton and that's getting pretty expensive."

"The Hilton? You're not staying at his place?" Maybe there was hope.

Paul looked uncomfortable again. "He, uh, still lives with his parents."

"Shit! You're dumping me for a kid?"

"He's not a kid. He's twenty-two."

"Oh, pardon me. Half your age. That's all grown up."

There was no way I could sit there any longer. I started to get up to leave.

"Don't go, Ben. The food will be here in a minute. We have to talk about this."

"I'm not hungry and there's not much left to talk about, is there? Don't worry; I'll be out of the house tomorrow. And I'm taking Lula. You never wanted her anyway."

My trip down misery lane was interrupted by the doorbell. I got up off the floor, dried my tears with my shirtsleeves and headed out to the living room. I opened the door to my best friend, Becky, who was standing there holding an African violet. She pushed her way into the house and went into the kitchen. After watering the plant she put it on the counter and looked at me.

"You've been crying again, haven't you?"

"Just a little. Tears of happiness, I swear."

"Yeah, right. You've got to get over that fuckin' bastard. He's not worth your tears."

"I don’t want to talk about him, Beck."

"Believe me, neither do I. So when is the furniture coming?"

"The bedroom stuff should be here any minute. The rest is being delivered sometime over the next week. I'm not really sure. Mother is taking care of all of that."

"Are you sure you're gay? What kind of stereotype are you, letting your straight mother decorate your house?"

"She's a professional, Becky. Besides, you know I have no taste. Look at my love life."

"I'll agree with you there, though I haven't met most of your recent tricks."

"One night stands don't count. They're just distractions."

"I never would have known you had a slut hiding inside you, Ben. For years there was only Paul. In the past three months how many have there been? Ten? Twelve?"

"Probably more like twenty, but who's counting? They don't matter anyway. It's not really the sex. It's just that sometimes I need someone to hold me, to be with me."

"Yeah, so you go out and get drunk, go home with a stranger, roll over and get plowed for a few minutes. That makes you feel better?"

When she got like this I had to keep reminding myself that her candor had been one of the things I had originally found refreshing in her.

"In the long run, no, but at least I'm not alone for a little while. I do feel better for a little bit, anyway."

"You'd feel better for longer if you found someone to date, someone who was more than just a fuck."

"Yeah, but a fuck is easier to find. Besides, I'm not ready for any kind of relationship, even casual dating. I don’t know if I'll ever be able to open myself to that kind of hurt again."

"You've got to try, Ben. Whoring around just isn't you and isn't going to make you happy."

"Maybe not, Beck, but it's all I can handle right now."

Joey

I woke up and squinted at the clock next to the bed. Ten to seven. I flipped the alarm switch to off. I don't know why I set the damn thing; I never slept long enough for it to go off. I lay on my back and stared at the ceiling. Another day just like all the others. Nothing ever changes. Not that life is all bad; there are actually some good things in it and one wonderful thing. Just thinking of Connor made me smile. He always does. He's the reason I get up and go through the motions every day.

I heard a little giggle, almost a gurgle, across the room. He must have heard me thinking about him. I got up, walked over to the crib and looked down at the most beautiful boy in the world. He gave me a big smile and stretched both of his arms up toward me. I reached down and swept him up in my arms and carried him back to the bed and lay down on my back, hugging him to my bare chest.

"Good morning, love. How are you this beautiful day?"

Connor giggled again and grabbed at me, like he was trying to hug me. I held him, rubbing him lightly, humming to him. This was my favorite part of the day, lying here with my son, absorbing all of his love. He gave me strength, he gave me the will to get up and go on every day. I didn't know what I'd do without him.

I lifted my head until my chin was on my chest and looked at him. He looked up into my eyes. He took after me so much with my dark Italian coloring, all but his eyes. He had Jenny's bright blue eyes. There must have been a recessive blue gene hanging out in me though you'd never know it looking at my family.

Just thinking about Jenny brought me down again. I'll never get over her, never move on. Her family had lived across the street and we grew up together. My brothers and sister were so much older than me and she was an only child so we were the only kids our age on the block. Growing up she was quite a tomboy and we were buddies, best friends. When we got to high school our hanging out together just naturally turned into dating. Everyone assumed we'd get married and once I got my associates degree from County College we did. After a few years and a couple of miscarriages, she got pregnant with Connor and this time it seemed to work. Neither of us had ever been so happy.

Her blood pressure had gone up toward the end of the pregnancy and she was always complaining of headaches, but nothing major. The delivery had seemed to go all right. Connor was perfectly healthy and she held him a minute while I cut the umbilical cord. A nurse had just taken him to clean him up when Jenny went into convulsions. Eclampsia, I was told later. I don't know any medical terms and I wish I'd never heard of that one. It was horrible, the doctor and nurses rushing around, pushing me out of the way. I was so helpless while they worked on her. It only lasted a few minutes, but when the seizures ended, she was unconscious, in a coma. She never came out of it. A week later, her kidneys and liver began to fail and she slipped away. It happened so fast. I was devastated. I'd lost my best friend, the only girl I'd ever loved.

"Oh, Connor," I whispered as I felt a tear run down the side of my face, "what am I gonna do? What are we gonna do?"

Just then the door opened and Mom walked in.

"You could at least knock, Ma." She never did and I knew she wasn't ever going to.

"And risk waking the baby? You know you shouldn't have him in bed with you when you're naked."

"I'm not naked. I've got my boxers on. Besides, I read it's good for babies to have skin to skin contact."

"I've raised five kids and you've got to read a book to find out what's good for babies? Just ask me, I'll tell you."

"You'll tell me even if I don't ask," I murmured.

"I heard that, wise guy. You've got five minutes to get downstairs or I'll throw out your breakfast." She turned and walked out, leaving the door open. I got up, put Connor back in the crib and pulled yesterday's tee shirt over my head. I went across the hall to the bathroom, peed, hurriedly brushed my teeth and splashed some cold water on my face. No way was she going to throw away food but there was no point in crossing her.

I checked Connor's diaper before I carried him down to the kitchen. I'd just changed him when I was up around five but you can never tell. Mom had bacon, eggs, toast, OJ and coffee on the table and Connor's cereal on the tray of his high chair. It had been nearly a year since Connor and I had moved home and I kept telling Mom she didn't have to do this every morning but it was like talking to a wall. She was born to feed her family and she was very good at it.

"Where's Pop? Don’t tell me he's sleeping in."

"You know better than that. He went to the nursery early today. John wanted to talk to him before he started."

Pop owns Ridgedale Nursery and the whole family works there. I guess I should introduce all of them. It all started with Tony and Rose Napoli, Pop and Mom, both 66 now. My brothers Anthony, 44, and Vinnie, 39, manage the nursery. My brother John, 42, and brother-in-law Sal run a landscaping business connected to the nursery. Sal is married to my sister, Donna Marie, 41. My brothers are all married to nice Italian women and everyone lives here in Madison within walking distance of Mom and Pop's house. Between them all I've got 15 nieces and nephews, ranging in age from 5 to 22.When the whole family gets together it's a madhouse. Fortunately, that only happens once a week, twice at most.

And me? I'm Joe, 26, the baby of the family, the mistake. Mom insists on calling me an afterthought but I don't know that any thought really went into it. Of course, I work at the nursery, too. I do landscape design, run the computer and generally help out with whatever needs to be done.

Mom poured me a second cup of coffee while I made a futile attempt to get more cereal in Connor's mouth than on his bib. Mom cleaned up the counter a bit and then leaned back against it.

"I ran into Angie Carrino at the A&P yesterday."

"Oh yeah? I thought she was living on Long Island with some guy."

"They broke up and she moved back with her parents. She's looking pretty good."

"And your point is? I think I can see where you're going with this."

"I'm just saying that you two always got along in high school. She's a nice Italian girl and single. You're a nice Italian boy and single. Would it hurt to call her?"

"Ma, I'm just not ready to date. It's too soon. Leave me alone, okay?"

Mom came over and hugged my head to her ample bosom and ran her fingers through my hair.

"I know how much you loved Jenny, son. We all loved her. She was a part of this family her whole life. But it's been over a year now. You've got to get on with your life. Think about Connor. He needs a mother."

"He had a mother, Ma, and now he's got me. And you're doing a pretty good job taking care of him, loving him and spoiling him. I don't think he's missing out on anything."

"I'm an old lady. I'm not going to live forever, you know."

"Is that a promise?"

"Oh, I give up, for now anyway. Go get ready for work. I'll clean up the baby."