Dear Mr President

Dear Mr. President ♥ Jaelyn Storm PROLOGUE Dear Mr. President, My name is Bobby Thirske. I am 8 years old. I go to Wi...

Author: Storm Jaelyn

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Dear Mr. President ♥ Jaelyn Storm

PROLOGUE

Dear Mr. President, My name is Bobby Thirske. I am 8 years old. I go to Wilhelm School for the Gifted. I live in Baltimore, Maryland. I would like to say congratulations on being President. I am writing to you today because my teacher said we had to for homework. Mrs. Pavel said that you are history. She says that you are a sign that America is finally learning to treat everyone equal like she says it says in the Constitution. I wish that she is right but I don’t think so because if she was then Veronica and I would have a real family by now. God took my parents away when I was 4. My Uncle Mike says that He needed them more than we did. So I guess it’s okay, but I still miss them sometimes and it took me a long time to be okay which only happened because of my best friend Veronica. Instead of parents I have My Uncle Mike. He is the best uncle but at first he was very sad when he got me even though he loved me very much. He missed my mom and dad too and he was lonely too. So then Veronica and I wrote Santa to find him and her dad somebody. We thought Santa would not be able to find them anybody because they were homosexuals. I wrote it momosexuals

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because I was five and I thought that was how you say it. Anyway! Santa did not have a hard time at all. He just put them together which was real good because Uncle Lucas can’t cook or anything. So he was happy to have us come live with him when our apartment building caught on fire on Thanksgiving. We lived with Veronica and Uncle Lucas ever since. Uncle Mike says that it goes to show you that there’s a silver lining in every cloud. I just think that God works in mysterious ways, just like Pastor Lane says at our church. Mr. President I said all this to say. If everyone is supposed to be equal, why can’t we be a real family? You know let my two uncles get married. (They aren’t really my uncles just Uncle Mike, so it would be okay for them to get married. I asked Pastor Lane just to make sure). Some people say that God would not like it but since God took my parents and then my home on Thanksgiving and told Santa to put Uncle Mike and Uncle Lucas together then how does it go against God? Since you are making history and telling the U.S. that everybody is equal can you make a law that says my uncles can get married and we can be a real family?

Sincerely, Bobby Thirske

P.S. You should have the Secret Service talk to Tommy Sherman. He is the biggest bully in the school and calls you all types of words I’m not supposed to say. He even says his daddy is going to get you. So be real careful when go down Oketo Street. That’s where Tommy lives.

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I

“UNCLE Mike! Uncle Lucas! The president’s coming to our school!” Bobby bellowed as he ran into the kitchen. Slamming his book bag on the counter, he dashed around the house waving his arms about and looking like an overexcited puppy. Veronica was right behind her best friend, running into her father’s arms as he came out of his office. She was chattering away while he swung her up into his arms. “He’s coming on Friday to visit our class because we wrote letters to honor him for becoming our new president,” Veronica explained, giving her father a hug before wiggling to get down and dance around with her friend. “You don’t say, Roni?” Lucas Townsend teased, setting his daughter down and tousling her red-gold curls. “Yes, and he’s supposed to have a special surprise for some of us. He wrote us a letter, and our teacher read it to us. He said that he hoped to see us and our parents there. Can you come, Daddy?” Veronica asked, her golden hair shining in the late-day sun.

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“Friday I have a lot of meetings that I can’t miss, Roni, but I wish that I could be there,” Lucas answered with real regret. Immediately the two children turned to their other parent with hopeful looks, and Veronica tried again. “What about you, Uncle Mike? Can you come?” “I don’t have class Friday. So I should make it no problem, Pumpkin,” Mike replied, leaning down to swing her and then Bobby around, making them both giggle. “Now off you two go. There are snacks in the fridge, and I’ll be down to help you with your homework by the time you’ve finished eating.” “Yes, sir,” the pair said in unison before trooping off like good little soldiers. Mike turned to Lucas with a shy, sweet smile in greetings. Lucas loved that smile. Mike reserved it for him, and it spoke volumes of the love he felt for Lucas. Lured in by that smile, Lucas leaned down to kiss Mike’s soft lips, causing Mike to make a little sound and wrap his arms around his lover’s neck. They kissed hungrily for a few seconds, forgetting everything but each other. A loud giggle from the kitchen had them separating with an almost guilty look. Three years and their passion had yet to wane. It was still as strong as the first days and often swept them away on a cloud of heat. Giving Mike a rueful grin, Lucas said softly, “How was your day?”

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“It was pretty good. I got a call from an agent who would like for me to work with their client.” Mike’s pleasure was evident in his shining eyes and excited tone. “Really? That’s great. Do you know who the agent was representing?” Lucas asked curiously. “No, he had to take another call before he could tell me. He wants me to go to his office tomorrow to discuss it.” Mike sighed. “I hate going downtown. It’s always a mess around Harborplace.” “It isn’t so bad if you take the MARC instead of a cab. Then you can meet me for lunch afterward, and I’ll drive you back.” “That sounds good,” Mike admitted grudgingly, and then he headed up to change before starting dinner and overseeing homework.

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II

FOR the unconventional family, the week flew by until Friday morning dawned bright and early. The children were eager to get to school, each bathing thoroughly before donning their best outfits. Mike smiled at their antics as they rushed about the house trying to make sure that they had everything. For the first time in months, he did not have to send Bobby back after checking behind his ears. The skin had been scrubbed to a healthy pink, and his teeth had been brushed without an argument. Mike had actually found himself hard-pressed to have breakfast on the table by the time they were ready to go. The pair had eaten in record speed despite cautions from him and Lucas to slow down before they choked. Still, it was good to see Veronica and Bobby so excited. It was one of the reasons he had wanted to stay to help out that afternoon when their teacher had asked. In fact, now that he was working as a dance instructor, he never missed an opportunity to volunteer at the school. He was at every parent meeting and supported each fundraiser. The principal knew him by name and had thanked him for being such a stalwart and involved parent. Mike had

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found the praise quite heady, especially when society at large condemned gay men as parents. The school was not far from their house. A bit of a walk, but it was nice out, and Mike tried to make sure that the kids got as much fresh air and exercise as possible. The kids enjoyed the walk also, going over and over again questions that they wanted to ask the president. Mike listened to them chatter with only half an ear. While they were oblivious to their surroundings, Mike could not help but notice the dramatic increase in the number of law enforcement personnel in the area. It was most likely standard operating procedure when the president was near, but it still was a little daunting to feel all those eyes watching your every move. Entering the school was an ordeal of its own. Mike had to show his ID and then tell what class Bobby and Veronica were heading to and the name of their teacher to a grizzled agent who looked as though he could break him in half with a thought. Mike told himself not to make any sudden moves, especially when the big man studied Mike with a harsh glare. “Do you think that the president is scared of guinea pigs, Uncle Mike?” Veronica asked suddenly with a worried look on her face. “We could take Ginny next door if he is. You know how thrilled room 204 is to see our guinea pig. That’s why we write 203 on everything we got, because we have the good stuff.”

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“The other third-grade class isn’t that bad. And as for the president being afraid of guinea pigs, I don’t know, Pumpkin, but I’m sure that his people will handle it if there’s really a problem,” Mike answered, looking down on Veronica with a quick smile. When Mike looked up, he was surprised that a miraculous smile had cracked the agent’s craggy face as he looked at the little girl. Amusement danced in the man’s eyes and he said to Veronica, “Mr. President has a guinea pig and two hamsters at the White House. He and his daughters clean their cages every Saturday morning.” Veronica’s eyes grew wide in wonder and she had to ask, “What’s their names?” “His daughters’ or his pets’?” The agent asked. “His pets’, silly. Everybody knows his daughters’ names. They’re all over TV. I even have a Bratz doll just like they do,” she replied, looking up at the big man. Before the unexpectedly cordial agent could answer, Bobby grabbed his best friend’s hand and urged, “Come on, Roni, we have to go! We promised Mrs. Pavel to help her put up the decorations this morning!” Veronica managed a quick wave to the nice man before running off to her classroom. Mike gave the officer a wry grin, his shoulders rising in an apologetic shrug. “Kids. What can I say?”

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“Yeah, I have a little girl just like that one at home. You’re a good uncle to keep up with her like that. Families nowadays aren’t so tight. It’s like everyone’s for themselves.” “Yeah, well, I don’t have much left of mine left, so I try to hold on to the little I’ve got,” Mike offered before asking, “Am I free to head up to the classroom?” “Sure, you’re all clear,” the agent said, and Mike headed off with a nod of thanks. The kids’ classroom was on the second floor, and Mike climbed the stairs two at a time. He could tell by the chattering that Veronica and Bobby were already there along with several of their friends. He entered the room to a scene of enthusiastic chaos as about ten children tried to help Mrs. Pavel get the room ready for the day. She gave a pained smile full of entreaty when she saw Mike, and he grinned, wading into the fray with expert ease. “All right, students, let’s sit on the carpet and make a list of everything that needs to be done, and then we’ll make a plan of how we’re going to do it,” Mike commanded, and the students scampered over to the rug eager to be doing something. He caught Mrs. Pavel’s mouthed “thank you” as he commandeered the easel and began to bring some order to the room. In no time, he had a job for everyone, and the students working smoothly to finish cleaning up the room. He walked around supervising each child, praising them for

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doing a good job or giving advice and encouragement where needed. “Great job, Gina, but I think that you might need to wash the board a second time. It was pretty dirty,” Mike told a caramel-skinned little girl, her dark hair braided and festooned with a dozen colorful barrettes that clinked softly whenever she turned her head. “Okay, Mr. Anderson,” the little one agreed before running off to get more water. Mrs. Pavel caught him on his third circuit around the classroom. “Thank you so much for coming in, Mr. Anderson. It means a lot to Bobby and Veronica to have you here today.” “I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Mike said. “Those two have been on their best behavior lest the president find out. It reminds me a lot of Christmas what with how excited they’ve been.” “Yes, the entire class has been rather energetic since I made the announcement. We managed to pull together a nice program for the afternoon despite it all. It should be quite lovely,” Mrs. Pavel said proudly, though Mike could hear the hint of frayed exhaustion in her voice saying that the poor teacher would need the weekend to recuperate from this harrowing week. “What do you need me to do?” he asked, showing his support.

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“Could you please oversee the seating and the putting up of the artwork?” she replied. “Sure, no problem,” Mike agreed easily, taking a stack of pictures from the teacher and a roll of masking tape. He was an old hand at decorating the walls and bulletin boards thanks to hours spent volunteering at the school. Mike tried to spend at least an hour each week helping out around the school and had even started an after-school program teaching dance on Wednesdays. A few teachers had told him that he should become a teacher, but he was happy with his small dance school and volunteering. Veronica and Bobby floated over to help their Uncle Mike and were immediately put to work, breaking off pieces of tape and readying the pictures for the wall. They spackled the wall with colorful pieces of art depicting patriotic scenes and events in American history, finishing just as the bell rang. The rest of the class started filing in, excited chatter punctuating their every move as they got ready for this unusual day of learning. Mike remained in the classroom while Mrs. Pavel put her class through their paces for the morning reading hour, which was followed by an hour of math. It was obvious that they were all anticipating the visit from the president. The room was charged with a frenetic energy that permeated every nook and cranny. But Mrs. Pavel was a wise and wily teacher; she knew the signs of

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trouble brewing from such exuberant spirits and called on Mike for an impromptu dance session to get some of the high spirits out of the way. Mike rose to the occasion, pulling out his MP3 player and plugging it in to the radio. Setting it on his ’50s rock hits list, he showed the kids how to hand jive. Enthusiastically, the class went through several songs, little hands and heads flying as they learned the intricate moves from a bygone era, until lunchtime arrived, taking everyone by surprise. Lunch was sandwiches, milk, and cookies, specially made for the occasion to minimize damage to appearances by accidental spills before the president’s arrival. The students ate quickly, still overly chatty but noticeably calmer, especially when several more of their parents arrived to share the momentous occasion with their offspring. After a bathroom break, the students filed back in for a quick rehearsal of what they were going to do and say when the president arrived. Unfortunately, just minutes before he was scheduled to arrive, they received word that the president was delayed, throwing the students into a chaotic despair, fearing that he would not show up. Mike went back into the fray, putting on Johnny Otis’s “Willie and the Hand Jive.” A half-hour later, he’d choreographed a simple dance routine that the kids were proud to show off. It was while the kids were strutting around showing their stuff that the president came in unannounced. Mrs. Pavel nearly fainted when she looked up from dancing with her students to find the principal, several men in suits, a

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camera crew, and the man who had been a fixture on just about every television station for the past year with his history-changing campaign. Her first thought was that he was even more handsome in person. It was quickly followed by how she must look at that moment, and in front of the President of the United States of America of all people. Fortunately, her students did not realize that they had visitors until the song ended and the music was replaced with applause. If she wasn’t so horrified herself she probably would have laughed as everyone else in the room froze in a tableau of embarrassed incredulity. However, the children utilized their amazing recuperative powers, and they turned quickly toward the visitors with shining faces full of anticipation. The president stepped forward with a sincere smile that said without words how happy he was to be there and charmed everyone in room 203. Julia, a red-haired girl whose face was covered in freckles, greeted the president just like she’d rehearsed a thousand times. She had a career in the hospitality industry or public speaking, Mike thought, seeing into her future. Each child stepped forward and spoke to the president, introducing themselves and shaking his hand. The head of the country greeted each student with a weighted solemnity, making them feel very important, especially when he referred to something each of them had written in their letters to him. They were low on time because of his late arrival, so Mrs. Pavel asked that they begin the presentation right

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away. The president was given the seat of honor as desks were pushed out of the way and the students took their places. Mike whipped out a video camera to record the small program, which began with the singing of the national anthem. The students sang exuberantly off-key as they belted out the patriotic words. The class had created what had to be the longest acrostic poem ever written and was eager to recite it. They each held a letter as they stood in a line spelling out The United States of America. Veronica was holding the U while Bobby held the T in United. When Veronica’s turn came, she stood proud and announced loudly, “U is for unity, because together we stand ready to create a great country.” Three letters later Bobby stepped forward, his chest puffed out like a rooster, and nearly shouted, “T is for Tolerance, something everyone in this country needs to exsor-exercise. We should love each other no matter race, gender, or lifestyle!” Mike raised an eyebrow at Bobby’s words. Mike had been furious the day after the election when Proposition 8, a bill banning same-sex marriages, had been passed by the general public in California. Bobby had been concerned, seeing his uncle so upset, and had asked Mike loads of questions for a bit. A week or two later it seemed as though his nephew had forgotten all about it. However, it was obvious now that

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Mike’s vehement ranting over the attack on “alternative lifestyles” had influenced Bobby more than Mike had thought. It was probably time for them to have another heart-to-heart chat. At the end of the poem, Mrs. Pavel presented their august guest with a copy of the poem decorated and signed by the entire class. The president accepted with another one of his appealing smiles and then stood to speak. Sensing that something momentous was about to happen, the third graders sat immobile, barely breathing in anticipation. “Boys and girls of room 203, I am pleased and honored to be here today. You are a bright batch of young people that do credit to our nation. I was impressed by your presentation. The poem was beautiful, and I was truly touched by it. I was also touched by your letters. I have never been so moved as when I read them.” The president paused, studying the faces of his young audience. It was a diverse group representing nearly every nationality in the melting pot. He hated himself for thinking how great a photo op this was going to be and how he was going to use the publicity. “Looking at your shining faces, I know that each of you will grow up to be extraordinary human beings, and as citizens of the United States you will take our nation to great heights. I can rest easy that when my time to lead is over, knowing there are young people like you ready in the wings to take over. Thank you so much for your letters, and I

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would like to ask your permission to post them on my Web site so that I may share them with others.” His request was met with stunned silence while the children struggled to take in what he had just said. It was difficult for them to believe that their third-grade writing was so good that even the president wanted others to see it. Big smiles seemed to pass from face to face until every student wore one, except for a dark-haired boy with a buzz cut and pale glistening blue eyes. It was obvious that the boy was suffering from regret, probably from a missed opportunity. The president studied the young boy for a moment before adding, “I know that some of you might not have finished your letters in time to send to me or maybe you want to add some things to it. I’ll be happy to accept more letters from your class and will leave an envelope with your teacher to send them to me. Now, my assistant, Mrs. Johnson, will pass out treats and presents to you while I meet with your parents.” The kids greeted the news with cheers, and the aide moved around the room passing out cupcakes made by the White House chef and a goody bag filled with books, crayons, and other items carrying the presidential seal. Mike kept an eye on the kids as the president made the rounds with the parents. He shook his head ruefully as he went through a list of things to say to the president that did not sound dorky or militant. Mike wanted to tell the man how his triumph filled so many with hope. He also wanted to beg the man to do more for equality, especially when it

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seemed as though blatant acts of racism and bigotry were on the rise. “You must be Mike Anderson.” Mike had been so deep in thought that he had been unaware of the president’s approach. He turned with a blush and addressed the commander in chief. “Mr. President, I must say how honored I am to meet you.” “I understand that you serve as a guardian for Veronica Townsend and Bobby Thirske.” “I’m Bobby’s uncle, and Lucas, Veronica’s father, has signed papers so that I can act as her guardian in emergency situations,” Mike explained, surprised that the president knew so much about his home life. “It’s only in emergency situations,” the president repeated to himself before further questioning Mike. “Will Veronica’s father be here today?” “No, he had an important meeting today that he could not reschedule,” Mike answered slowly, wondering what was going on. He might have been a little star-struck, but he was aware enough to smell something fishy in the works. “Hmm.” The president paused, thinking quickly. “I would like to speak with you and Lucas about having your children help me with an important project. When do you think would be a good time for me to meet with you and your family to discuss it?”

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Mike eyes were just about ready to pop out of his head in surprise at the president’s words. It was incredibly unexpected that the president would select them out of all the families in the country for his special project. He did not know what to say. “I—I, Lucas should be home by six o’clock tonight.” “Then someone from my office will call, let’s say around eight tonight,” the president said, getting ready to turn away. “Wait, what project did you want our help with?” “Aside from a financial crisis, the nation seems to be facing a familial crisis, also. The traditional family unit that was the norm a half-century ago is not so normal today. It’s time that we have a paradigm shift and recognize the nontraditional families socially and legally. I would like for your family to be one of the representatives of the new family units in America. Children need lots of love and nurturing, and it shouldn’t matter who it comes from, whether it be grandparents, aunts and uncles, fathers or same sexparents.” The president’s words rang with convincing sincerity that touched off a spray of hope deep within Mike. “I—we’ll stammered.

look

forward

to

that

call,”

Mike

nearly

“Good, and it was my pleasure meeting you, Mr. Anderson. You and your partner have done a wonderful job with those children, and I would like for the world to know that,” the president said, shaking Mike’s hand before his

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people stepped forward to whisk him away just as the endof-the-day bell rang. Mike helped clean up the classroom and hustle students out of the door on automatic pilot. He was simply floored by what the president wanted from his family. It was a large responsibility that would not always be pleasant, but Mike felt it was too important to shirk because of a bit of unpleasantness. He couldn’t wait to get home and tell Lucas about it.

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III

VERONICA and Bobby were in their rooms packing for an overnight stay with their pretend uncles, Sean and Taylor, Mike’s best friends, when Lucas came home. Still excited about their day, they dashed down the stairs to give him a blow-by-blow report on their meeting with the president in vivid detail. Mike came down the steps at a more sedate pace, smiling as he watched the pair’s antics. They were so cute; one would wiggle and dance around Lucas while the other spoke. Then they would exchange places whenever the other wanted to interject something or the one couldn’t sit still any longer. It reminded him of bees dancing to tell the hive where to find the nectar. Veronica and Bobby were just about wound down when Taylor and Sean arrived. The children were torn between needing to tell their story again and finishing packing so they could go to the early show and Pizza Rat Café. Seeing their dilemma, Lucas took the choice out of their hands and escorted the kids back upstairs, leaving Mike behind to talk to his friends. “Thanks a lot for taking them tonight,” Mike said for what had to be the hundredth time since the pair had

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volunteered. Sean and Taylor were roommates, Mike’s best friends, and flamboyantly gay. Surprisingly enough, the three of them had avoided becoming lovers, wanting to keep their friendship unsullied. “Hey, no probs. Besides, you and Lucas need a break so you can have some time to work on your relationship.” Sean shrugged, the lights of deviltry dancing in his eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with my relationship.” Mike’s words had a defensive edge to them. “Honey, please. Of course there is. You have two little ragamuffins keeping that delicious man of yours from making you scream.” Sean and Taylor laughed as Mike turned fiery red, unable to hide his shy nature. But he was a performer used to battling with his timidity. So Mike laughed and cocked his hip out in his classic Shakira emulating pose and challenged, “Maybe it’s me who makes Lucas scream.” “Whatever, honey,” Sean said, waving away the comeback, “but I know it isn’t happening while you two have kids sleeping less than ten feet away, and that’s enough to put a strain on anyone’s relationship. So tonight I want you two to go wild. Cook something with loads of eggs, onions, and oysters and then make love in every room in the house.” “Yeah, just because you two goody two-shoes have settled down together, there’s no reason for you to have to

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completely abstain from having wild, passionate, kinky sex,” Taylor interjected with a smirk, before turning sincere. “Besides, you two deserve it more than anyone we know. In the three years since you two got together, you haven’t taken much time to just be with each other with the exception of an occasional date or two. Dr. Phil says that couples need time to manage relationships just as they do for investments, property, etc.” Mike groaned. He couldn’t believe that his friend was quoting the TV talk-show therapist. However, he was grateful for their thoughtfulness, no matter the reason, and had been looking forward to a little alone time with Lucas all week. So, he couldn’t resist thanking his friends one more time. Luckily, he was saved from any pithy comments by Veronica and Bobby running down the stairs revving to go. Mike and Lucas went into the kitchen to make dinner. They decided on something quick and simple. Linguini and grilled shrimp in a delicate cream sauce was on the table in less time than it would have taken to order pizza. Lucas looked at the table in amazement. He couldn’t believe that he had helped cook such a meal. It was worthy of any fine restaurant. Not only had he helped make it but he could and had made it on his own without help. Until Mike came along, he’d been hopeless in the kitchen. But Mike had a way when he was teaching that soothed his pupils’ fears and at the same time made them want to do their best. Mike had allowed them to soar beyond imagination. Lucas had been no exception, and it was one of

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the reasons he loved Mike. Over dinner they spoke of their day. Lucas’s meeting had gone well. His friendly takeover of a Japanese concern would nearly triple his company assets and make him a tidy sum to boot. It was good to hear that some companies were still doing well despite the limping economy. However, this new venture worried Mike. It meant that Lucas would be spending a lot of time away from home on business trips to Japan. Mike knew from pillow talk that it was an affair with a Japanese businessman that had caused the breakup of Lucas’s marriage. It frightened Mike, the thought of Lucas going astray again. An affair would most likely break them up and their family, also. The worst was that aside from whispered promises there was really no real commitment between them. It was a topic that Mike had been loath to discuss with Lucas. Lucas had sworn off marriage and had never given any indication that he wanted something permanent. For all Mike knew, Lucas could have plans to end it once the children were old enough to understand. Mike felt terrible for thinking that way, especially whenever Lucas professed his love, which happened in the bedroom and only there, because he could not keep the negative thoughts at bay. Mike had had one too many bad relationships to be a cheerful optimist when it came to matters of the heart. He had hung up his hopeless-romantic hat and given up his happily-ever-after dreams a long time

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ago. Still, Mike wanted to know where he stood but was far too afraid to confront Lucas. Instead, he changed the subject by giving his own impressions of meeting the president. “He is definitely yummier in person than on TV,” Mike teased, loving the glint that popped into Lucas’s eyes. “Oh really?” he asked, his voice threaded with silky menace. Mike let loose a little laugh that was suspiciously close to a girlish giggle before answering. “Oh yes, but he’s got nothing on you.” Lucas sat back with a pleased smile before asking, “So aside from a photo op, why did he pick Roni and Bobby’s school?” “He said it was because of the kids’ letters.” “You know, there’s already footage of it up on the Web. From what I saw he seemed to be interested in speaking with everyone. He went out of his way to look good in front of the cameras. Though, he seemed to be genuinely interested and not just posing for the media. I’m sure he said something memorable; he’s such a great speaker. Tell me what he said to you,” Lucas ordered eagerly. “That was the strangest part. When he circulated amongst the parents, he came to me last. He, uh… wanted help with a project.”

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“What, he wanted to learn how to dance? But how would the president know you taught dance?” Lucas paused, puzzled, but then slapped his forehead with the heel of his hand in realization. “Duh, he’s the president of the United States of America. He probably had everyone in the school and their parents investigated.” “He does not want to learn how to dance,” Mike said softly, knowing that there was a good chance that Lucas would find this part offensive. Lucas hated anything that publicly proclaimed his sexual identity. It was understandable after what Cynthia put him and Veronica through, but still, there were times when Mike wanted to stand up with his much-beleaguered brothers and sisters but had remained silent in deference to Lucas. “Then what did he want?” Lucas asked, his voice dropping an octave as if he sensed that the answer would be unpleasant. “He wants our family to be one of many showcased in his campaign to get the nation to respect nontraditional families and treat them in the same light as normal pairings.” “He wants us to be part of some dog and pony show? No, I will not have it. I will not put Veronica through something like that,” Lucas said firmly. “Lucas, it might not be all that bad. Someone from his office is supposed to call in about,” Mike paused to check the clock, “in about a half–hour. Why don’t you listen to what

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they have to say before you make a decision?” “I’ll listen, but you know Roni’s and Bobby’s well-being comes first. I will not have them held up to ridicule and scorn because of how we choose to live our lives.” “I know, and I understand, but no matter what, children will always be teased about something. We can’t protect them from everything.” “But we can protect them from this. You know the Fundies and the right-wing nut jobs would not hesitate to tear into children. Hell, Cynthia did it to her own daughter; I shudder to think about what total strangers might stoop to saying or doing.” “I understand, but you should hear it out. That’s all I’m asking,” Mike pleaded. “All right, I’ll do it for you on one condition,” Lucas capitulated. “Which is?” “That after the call we don’t speak of it again until tomorrow. I have no intention of wasting our night alone arguing over our gay responsibilities.” Mike agreed grudgingly, and the rest of the meal was completed in silence. Both men ate, retreating into their own thoughts, and did not resurface until they were cuddling on a sofa beside the fire sipping a finely aged red wine. Despite their differences, neither wanted the night to be spoiled, and

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they each made an effort to raise their spirits. Mike was reluctant to move when the phone rang, fearful of losing what might be one of the few cozy moments they would have together. So Lucas reached behind him with one of his long arms and snagged the receiver from the console table. “'The Townsend and Anderson residence.” Lucas’s deep voice was smooth and business appropriate, honed from years in the industry. He knew a good greeting could make a deal. It was something he strove to impress upon both of their kids. “Please hold for the president,” a brisk, faceless voice intoned a second before a Muzak version of the national anthem filled his ears. Lucas stared at the receiver in shock. Mike had said that the president’s office would be calling, leading Lucas to believe that some smooth-talking lackey would be relegated to convincing them to go along with the plan. He never dreamed that it would be the president himself calling about their home. Lucas was grateful for being on hold; it gave him some time to pull himself together. Mike saw the astounded look on Lucas and sat up. “What is it? What's wrong?” Mike asked. The fear of something happening to one of the kids was clear in his voice. Lucas smiled ruefully and squeezed Mike gently before answering. “Nothing’s wrong. I just didn’t expect that I would

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be talking to the president tonight.” “Well, now you’ve gotta listen. You voted for the man so you should keep an open mind,” Mike pointed out with a great amount of satisfaction. Lucas merely grumbled something unintelligible in reply, which Mike decided to ignore. Instead, he grabbed Lucas’s arm and said with quite some exuberance, “Put him on speakerphone when he comes on.” Lucas was about to answer when a deep, familiar, smooth voice tinged with humor said, “I think that’s a wonderful idea. I would like to speak to you both at length.” Mechanically, Lucas hit the speaker button, berating himself for getting caught with his pants down by the president of all people. “Sure. Mr. President, you’re on speaker now,” Lucas said to cover up his embarrassment. “Thank you. I believe that I heard Mike in the background, which would most likely make you Lucas. Correct?” “Correct, sir. How can we help you today?” “I know that the Republicans are infamous for going to war on something, whether it is drugs or terrorism. Publicly, I don’t want to use this phrase, but for expedience sake let’s just say that I want to go to war on intolerance. We are a nation divided by hate, and the chasm seems to be getting wider. It is past time that the nation’s leader should take

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matters into his or her own hands and make an effort to heal this breach. I think the place to start should be families. If we can show America how much this hurts children then we have a good chance of pulling a lot more people toward achieving my goal.” The President explained. Mike and Lucas could hear him pause to take a sip of something before continuing. “My opponents did too good of a job feeding people’s fears—and unfortunately fear, when left unchecked, can turn into something extremely ugly and destructive. However, fear cannot be rationalized into going away. It must be countered with something strong, something that can be felt in the heart.” “So why us?” Lucas asked the obvious. He was moved by the president’s words but was far from convinced that letting his family be used in what promised to be a media circus was in their own best interest. “Your children’s letters. They are very much aware of the hatred that’s out of control nowadays, and they’re not happy with it.” Lucas and Mike echoed. “I take it that neither of you read them?” “No, our babysitter helped them with it while we were running some errands,” Mike explained. “In fact, those little stinkers were very determined to

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have Rachel help them instead of us. I should have suspected they were up to something,” Lucas said in mild disgust. The president laughed and commiserated. “'I understand how you feel. It seems as though I need to get up at four in the morning and watch everything carefully or else my girls would pull the rug out from under me if I let them. They aren’t bad kids, but all children learn at an early age how to get their way, and most parents struggle to stay one step ahead of their kids.” “That’s the truth!” Mike and Lucas agreed. “Well then, I think the two of you should hear this,” the president said before reading Bobby’s and then Veronica’s letter. Bobby’s letter was profound, showing an unexpectedly strong opinion about what was happening in his country. It was sad to hear the first stirrings of cynicism in the eightyear-old’s words. It was obvious that he found his countrymen’s narrow-mindedness alarmingly disgusting. It was easy to imagine that if he were given half a chance, Bobby would be all too happy to give those bigoted hate mongers a piece of his mind. Mike could see his sister’s fiery activistic nature in her son and smiled sadly as he thought of his twin. While Bobby’s letter was moving, Lucas would find Veronica’s letter especially hard to sit through. Mike and Lucas listened silently as Veronica voiced how much she

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loved her dad and her Uncle Mike and how she was afraid that since they were not married her uncle would decide to leave. She was hurt, and she was often teased about this fact. In fact, the teasing had been so bad that she had stopped calling Bobby her brother because of it. However, she wanted them to be a real family very badly and wanted the president to make a law that either said her father and uncle could marry or declared that they were a real family. That way no one could ever tease her again. Lucas sat on the edge of the couch and put his face in his hands. He felt like such a failure. He had tried so hard to shield his daughter from ridicule due to his life choice but it was obvious that his efforts had not been good enough. He would have preferred a kick in the crotch to this news. However, Lucas was a top executive used to thinking fast when disaster hit. He did not believe in spending time on recriminations and blame. Instead, he would always set his mind to the situation at hand; damage control first, and then he’d figure out how he could turn it into an advantage. Thankfully, Lucas’s brain went its familiar route, pushing his upset away and tuning in to hear the rest of what the president had to say, because the head of state had begun to relate his plan to the couple. He wanted to start off by posting the class’s letters on a forum he had specially designed for the public to be able to express their opinions and ideas about issues. At some later time he would also like to hold a Web discussion with the children hosting the talks, without cameras and last names,

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of course, to help protect the children by keeping their identities confidential. If all went well he would like to up the exposure with a few public service announcements and then maybe even an appearance or two on a few talk shows. It was difficult after hearing Veronica’s letter, but Lucas did listen to the plan with an open mind. When the president came to a close, Lucas decided that he needed more time to think about the proposition before answering. He relayed this fact to the president, who understood Lucas’s reluctance completely. However, he did ask if it was all right if Veronica’s letter was put up on the Web. Lucas did not see any harm in it and gave his permission for that right away. Knowing that he had gotten the best answer he would get that night, the president thanked them both for their time and told them to have a good night. Lucas and Mike echoed the goodbye and in seconds they were left to stare at each other. Mike wanted to speak about what had been said but had promised Lucas that he would leave it alone for the night. So, he stood and led his partner up to the bedroom. If not with their words, they could communicate with their lips. In their bedroom, Lucas wasted little time. He kissed Mike hungrily, pressing him against the door before it had fully closed and undressing him impatiently. Mike gave himself up to the rough, hungry treatment, finding being wanted so badly erotically intoxicating. It was going to be a hot night, and with any luck Mike would be able to report that there had indeed been some screaming going on.

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IV

MIKE sighed as he cleaned up after Sunday dinner. Lucas had retreated to his office to avoid having to speak to Mike while the kids watched a National Geographic show about an Australian theme park where the people can actually pet the tigers. Mike didn’t know what to do. There had been a strained peace between them, as if by dint of will they could keep the inevitable argument from occurring. So, Lucas had been distant, making every effort to avoid talking, which had been going on since Friday night. This behavior held true in every instance except one: bedtime. In bed Lucas made love to him like a desperate man. Mike was a little sore and extremely satisfied, at least physically. Mentally was another matter altogether. Mike felt brittle, as if he would fall apart with the slightest tap. He was afraid to push one way or another. Especially after overhearing Lucas talking about his upcoming trip to Japan with his personal assistant Saturday morning. He would be leaving sometime next month but hadn’t said a word about it yet. The only reason that Mike could think of why Lucas would keep the trip secret was if he planned to do a little sneaking around, the thought of which brought tears to Mike’s eyes.

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If it was over, he wished that Lucas was would just let him know. Mike was the kind of guy who preferred ripping the bandage off and getting the painful part behind him as quickly as possible. He had no wish to linger over misery. Worse yet, his confusion was sending Mike into a deadly spiral of self-doubt far more devastating than any of his other boyfriends’ departures. Even the bitter ending he had with Christopher, who’d been jealous over the attention Mike was paying to his newly orphaned nephew and had taken money to testify that Mike was a pedophile, did not hurt as much as the thought of Lucas being unfaithful. Mike finally finished washing the dishes and went into the TV room. To his surprise Lucas was already there, with Bobby half-lying across his lap completely engrossed in the program. Bobby’s latest interest was in zoology, big cats to be specific, and his enthusiasm had swept Veronica along with him. Mike couldn’t help but smile at the scene. Lucas had accepted Bobby with open arms, and Bobby had reciprocated the feelings of love from Lucas a hundredfold. They really were a close-knit family. He just wished that the world could see and understand the rare treasure that they had found together. A light bulb went off in Mike’s head. They were a tight family, drawn close with bonds of love, and if those were the only bonds that tied them together, then Mike could live with that. He would put his trust in their love and stop worrying about problems that his insecure imagination drummed up.

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Going over to the couch, Mike scooped up Roni and set her on his lap. She cuddled in before giving a whispered explanation of what they had seen so far. She was completely enthralled with watching the tiger cubs be raised so that they would be docile around human beings. When the show was over, the adults were subjected to a round of questioning. Mike and Lucas shared a wry grin. Being interrogated was par for the course when there were two intelligent and curious children dwelling in the house. Oddly enough, Lucas always encouraged their questions, firmly believing it was imperative for children to be curious if they were to grow intellectually. “Uncle Mike, can we go to Australia for my birthday?” Bobby asked excitedly. “Probably not, squirt. It’s pretty far away, and it costs a lot of money,” Mike answered honestly. “Oh,” Bobby said, only slightly deflated as he concentrated on the problem. After a moment, he turned to ask, “Uncle Lucas, could you take us?” “Please, Daddy,” Roni chimed in, giving him her most adorably pleading look. “We’ll see, honey,” Lucas said soothingly, which she accepted without argument. It was better than an outright no. However, she and Bobby were going to have to be real good for a while to show that they deserved to go. Never one

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to procrastinate, she hopped to it. “Well then, I guess we better get ready for bed. Tomorrow is a school day, you know,” she said nonchalantly, before turning to her best friend. “Come on, Bobby,” she ordered, giving him a look that spoke volumes when he started to protest. Bobby was pretty quick on the uptake and knew when Veronica was up to something. Changing his tune, he said, “Oh yeah, right. Good night, Uncle Mike and Uncle Lucas.” Bobby gave each a quick kiss before heading to his room. Roni came back and did the same before following her best friend. “Methinks that they are up to something.” Lucas suppressed a chuckle over the kids’ transparent plotting. “You are probably right. I bet you that they’re upstairs making plans as we speak,” Mike agreed. “That's a sucker’s bet.” Lucas shook his head. It felt good being back on easy ground with Mike after the tension of the past few days. He just wished he knew what to do about the silent stalemate that they seemed to be locked into. After all the fights in his marriage, Lucas had no wish to engage in the acrimonious and pointless activity with Mike. He had been avoiding the subject of the president’s proposal, hoping that if he delayed long enough then it would be dropped.

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V

BOBBY and Veronica were full of news when Lucas picked them up from school. It seems that during the break, their letters had been posted on a special Web page. “The Presi-den-chal Seal and everything is on that page!” Bobby revealed, stumbling over the pronunciation of presidential in his haste. “Yeah, Mrs. Pavel showed it to us this afternoon during social studies. And under every letter the president had written an answer,” Veronica piped in, not wanting to be left out. “Is that so?” Lucas remarked with appropriate interest, despite his lack of enthusiasm for the subject. Still, he was proud of his daughter and supported her in every endeavor. So putting his own feelings aside, he asked, “What did he say about your letter, honey?” “I don’t know!” Veronica sighed dramatically. “Mrs. Pavel did not have time to read everyone’s. She said to ask our parents if they would allow us to read them at home tonight.” Lucas cut in before his daughter could ask the obvious question, for permission to see the Web site. “What about

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you, Bobby? Did they read yours?” Bobby wrinkled his nose in disgust as he answered. “No, she read that doofus face Tommy Sherman’s letter and then what the president said to him. I wanted to say that was so unfair because Bobby didn’t even turn a letter in for the project. She should have pretended like she never saw it, especially with all the bad things Tommy has been saying about the president.” Out of the corner of his eye, Lucas could see Bobby slouched and pouting, his dark curly hair looking like a wild mop. It was definitely time for a trip to the barber, Lucas was thinking, when Bobby yelled out, “Ooh!”Bobby sat straighter in the car seat. “I should write Mr. President and tell him what Tommy has been saying so he’d get rid of Tommy’s letter.” “That would not be very nice, Bobby,” Lucas said, showing his obvious disapproval of the scheme. “People who do bad things usually get their comeuppance in the end. Besides, didn’t they teach you in Sunday school that if someone wrongs you, you should turn the other cheek?” “Yeah, well what do you do when you run out of cheeks? I only have two, and I turned them both way back in September,” Bobby pointed out in a much-aggrieved grumble. Lucas bit the inside of his lip to keep from laughing. Bobby looked absolutely adorable with his face twisted up in annoyance.

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Instead Lucas said, “It’s the proverbial cheek, which isn’t real, so you can have as many as you want.” Bobby scowled and crossed his arms over his thin little chest defiantly as he fired back, “What if you don’t want any more cheeks? Cuz, I have turned about a gazillion of them.” Lucas was glad that they were in the garage so he could talk to Bobby without distraction. Wrapping an arm around Bobby’s little shoulders, he said, “If you are getting teased that much you should let me or your uncle know. We don’t ever want you hurting on the inside without saying something to someone. When you keep silent about important problems, we can’t help solve the problem, and the hurt will just keep happening or maybe even get worse.” “I’m not hurting, Uncle Lucas, just angry. Roni’s the one Tommy made cry,” Bobby revealed. Lucas swung around to look at his daughter in the backseat. Veronica’s head hung low, and all he could see was a crown of strawberry curls and a pair of slumped shoulders. “Honey, why didn’t you tell me about this?” Lucas asked gently. “Because Bobby socked him and made Tommy cry. Mrs. Pavel said that she was going to call our house, but I guess she forgot, and I didn’t want to bring it up and get Bobby in trouble,” Veronica said softly, giving Bobby an apologetic look.

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“I see,” Lucas said softly. “Honey, if something or someone is hurting you, I want you to tell me or Mike right away. We’ll worry about who will or might be in trouble later, because who gets punished is not what’s important. Stopping your pain is. Okay?” “Yes, Daddy,” Veronica said. “That’s my girl. Now come on. Let’s get inside and see what Mike left us for snacks this afternoon. I hope it’s apples and peanut butter.” Lucas injected enthusiasm into his words, trying to lighten the mood. It worked because both Veronica and Bobby groaned loudly in mock protest as they teased. “Oh no, you always eat up all the apples!” they shouted and then scrambled to get to the kitchen before Lucas could snatch away the precious snacks. Lucas kept his conversation with the kids to himself that night but Mike sensed something was wrong, especially when they made love. Mike moaned into the pillow as Lucas drove into him. He felt surrounded by Lucas, who had him pinned flat on his stomach with just enough room for Lucas to slide a hand between the bed and Mike’s lower body with the other arm pushed beneath Mike to cradle his chin. With every deep thrust, Mike was rocked against Lucas’s big hand, which was cupping him intimately and created a delicious friction. Mike could not move much, not even to buck in pleasure; Lucas was so much heavier than he. Mike did not mind that

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feeling of being completely helpless, at least when it came to being at Lucas’s mercy, and he always came hard when they were in this position. Unfortunately, Lucas only took Mike like this when he was upset. Mike bit down on the pillow again from another hard thrust, muffling the scream that came to his lips and pushing all coherent thoughts out of the way. Mike wanted to beg him to stop and beg for it not to stop. It was just that good. Even better was the fact that he could hear Lucas’s harsh, unsteady breathing and feel the warm air caressing his earlobes as it passed from Lucas’s lips. Every now and then, Lucas would flick a tongue along or nip the earlobe and Mike would be ready to swoon. It had taken Lucas less than a week to figure out that Mike’s ears were his lover’s weak spot, and he had been exploiting it ever since. When Mike thought it could not go on much longer, Lucas switched to a rolling hip motion and bit down on the ear he had been bedeviling, sending Mike into orbit. Lucas had to cover Mike’s mouth with his hand as his partner momentarily forgot where he was and who was sleeping a few doors away from them as his body convulsed, rapturous waves of release washing over him. Hot pleasure shot out to coat Lucas’s warm hand, and Mike’s body tightened around Lucas’s thick arousal. A few seconds later, Lucas was forced to press his face into Mike’s shoulder blades as his own release struck like lightning, brought on by Mike’s hot, milking body. He shuddered as

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seemingly unending jets of pleasure poured from his pulsing staff and turned his vision a snowy white. When Lucas came to his senses, he moved off of Mike with a barely intelligible apology. He felt spent and relaxed, his problems a million miles away. Only Mike had the ability to do that for him. Pulling his lover close, Lucas found his first smile of the night as he looked over his handiwork with pride. Mike’s curls were disheveled, damp ringlets. His face was flushed with kiss-swollen red lips and pleasure-glazed dark eyes. His chest was rising and falling rapidly as he tried to catch his breath and an occasional shiver would go through his entire body, which was still experiencing aftershocks from the climax. He was absolutely exquisite, and he was Lucas’s. “I love you, Mike,” Lucas whispered, stroking his partner’s cheek and feeling a bit overwhelmed with the emotion. “I love you too,” Mike said after a moment, even managing to muster up enough strength to give him a kiss before asking, “Are you going to tell me what’s been bugging you all night?” Lucas grimaced; the only downside to their relationship was that Mike could read him like a book. Lucas could rarely keep surprises hidden from him, let alone upsets. Mike could sniff out secrets like a bloodhound but he was never pushy about it or extra nosy. Lucas knew if he said he did not want to talk about it, Mike would drop it and wait patiently until Lucas was ready. However, Lucas’s own mind would heap

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guilt upon itself until he divulged whatever it was that he was hiding. “After dinner, I took another look at that Web page with the kids’ letters. There’s a section for comments, and some of them I read were pretty ugly. Nothing I’d want Veronica or Bobby to read. There was a lot of homophobic ranting, and most of those did not care that they were addressing a young child. It was exactly how I expected it to be,” Lucas said angrily. “Were there any locks or moderators?” Mike asked, sounding appalled. “The moderators were locking threads and deleting comments as fast as they could, but there were too many bloggers for them to control. I did a Web search and found some Web sites with pictures taken on the day of the president’s visit. Someone had labeled it with every child’s full name, which as you know puts all of the kids in danger, and there were some nasty slurs underneath just about every child.” “What was under Bobby’s and Veronica’s?” Mike asked, full of dread. “‘Her father’s a faggot’ under Veronica’s and ‘his uncle is probably doing him as well as her father’ with an arrow back to Veronica’s picture was under Bobby’s,” Lucas said flatly. “Well, that’s terrible, and I have no intention of taking this lying down,” Mike hissed angrily. Reaching for the

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phone, he called Taylor and started speaking as soon as his friend answered. “Taylor, are you still dating Pyro?” Mike paused to hear Taylor’s answer before going on. “Great. I need him to do us a favor. You’ve seen the Web site with Veronica and Bobby’s letters, right? Yes, they are great kids. Yes, I would like to take a baseball bat to the bastards saying all of those horrible things to children. Speaking of which, there’s some fucked-up Web sites with stuff about Bobby and Veronica on them. Do you think he would crash them for us? Oh, he’s there with you? I didn’t mean to interrupt. Oh, I’m glad. What did he say? Great! You’re the best, Taylor.” “I take it that Pyro is a hacker.” “Technically, no. He works for the FBI snooping out other hackers, but everybody has to have a hobby. Besides, Pyro says it’s how he keeps on top of things. He hacks Web sites that spread homophobic or other messages that are just wrong,” Mike explained. “Now are you going to tell me what else is bothering you? You were upset when I got home long before you got on the computer.” Lucas shook his head. He couldn’t keep even a tiny bit of himself from Mike’s all-seeing eyes. Pulling Mike tighter and tucking the dark curly head of the smaller man under his chin, Lucas started talking. “The talk on the way home from school today was very enlightening. I did not know that Veronica was being teased or that Bobby had gotten in a fight about it,” Lucas said,

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actually feeling relieved to finally be able to express himself about the situation. He had been holding it in since the car ride, unwilling to let the children see him upset. “Bobby had told me that a little boy had been teasing them. I sent a note to his teacher about it, and she said that she would take care of it. I had not heard anything else about the problem so I thought it was settled. I had no idea Bobby was fighting in school,” Mike replied, sharing Lucas’s upset for a few minutes until an entirely Neanderthal thought entered his head. He had to ask. “Did he win?” Lucas gave a snort of startled laughter before smacking Mike with a pillow for his silliness. Mike was too busy laughing to retaliate, and in a second Lucas joined him, laughing until the tears fell down his face. Lucas was grateful for the bit of hilarity that kept away his dark thoughts of self-recrimination. Wiping his eyes, he hugged Mike and said, “That’s why I love you. I’m ready to start in on the worst-father-in-theworld routine. Then you go and say something inane like that, and I can’t help but laugh. No matter what, you always know how to make me feel better.” “Why were you going into the worst-father-in-the-world routine? Teasing is a part of school life that no child ever escapes. It’s horrific and barbaric but unavoidable for the most part. All we can do is teach them how to handle it, which means I probably need to have a talk with Bobby about trying to solve problems without his fists.” Mike grew

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thoughtful, and his mind wandered back to his earlier question. “You still haven’t told me who won the fight.” “Roni said that Bobby made Tommy Sherman cry,” Lucas answered smugly. “Well then, I guess we’re raising him right. Tommy Sherman is the boy with the crew cut. He’s a little bully, and his father’s an ass. It was about time somebody gave him what he deserved. I just wish somebody would do the same to his father. Hmm. I guess that explains why he was so nice when I was there the day the president came. I assumed that he was being on his best behavior because of the occasion but now that I think about it, every time Tommy looked like he was going to get ugly Bobby would just look at him and shake his head. I am so glad that you talked me into putting him into that Tae Kwon Do class with Veronica. I do believe that I’ve gotten my money’s worth.” “You’re so bad. A parent is not supposed to be so bloodthirsty and taking pleasure in seeing another child get hurt is definitely on the ‘no-no’ list,” Lucas said reprovingly. “You’re only saying that because you have not met Tommy Sherman. Trust me; inside an hour you’d be wishing that someone gave him a good smackin’ because he’s just that obnoxious. I mean, I don’t want to see him hurt. I’m just glad that one of the kids finally stood up to him. It’s the only way to really deal with a bully.”

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“That’s true. Though, I think I would have preferred it if Roni had hit him,” Lucas said, only continuing when Mike looked at him with a raised eyebrow of inquiry. “First, it is embarrassing getting beat up by a girl. Tommy’s image would have been torn to shreds, and he wouldn’t be able to bully anyone in the class again. Second, it would turn into one of those rumor/legends as she grew older, and I would never have to worry about her dating. All the boys would be too scared to come near her. ‘Hey, isn’t she that girl that beat up a boy twice her size in third grade?’ ‘Dude, I heard that the boy was actually supposed to be in eighth grade but he had failed so many times that he could not get out of third grade and that she put him in the hospital.’” Mike fell over laughing as Lucas continued making up sensational stories about the imaginary event. Sharing their humor cleared the air completely, and they were able to settle down and try to sleep. “Tomorrow, I’ll talk to the kids and Mrs. Pavel about what happened,” Mike promised, smothering a yawn. “Good. Don’t forget that I’ll be home really late tomorrow night. I have to drive down to DC for a meeting and business dinner.” “Thanks. I’d forgotten all about it.” Mike muttered a last good night before falling asleep.

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VI

“LUCAS, where are you? I need you to call me back as soon as you get this message. I’m at Johns Hopkins Hospital. Veronica’s hurt. I think her arm is broken but they won’t treat her without your consent. I showed him those papers you had your lawyer draw up but they said that they weren’t going to honor them. Please call me as soon as you get this or call the hospital. I’ll try your office and see if they can catch up with you.” Lucas’s heart beat painfully fast as he listened to Mike’s frantic message. There were five more frantic messages from Mike, and Lucas had to force himself to calm down so he could think. Something was wrong with Roni, and it was going to take at least an hour to get to her. Turning toward his business associates, he made his excuses and was in his car and headed back to Baltimore in minutes. Scrolling through phone numbers as he drove, Lucas found the number he was looking for and hit his earpiece so that he could talk hands-free. He might not be able to get there for an hour, but he’d make sure that his daughter was seen to on the ride there. Meanwhile, Mike sat in the hospital holding Bobby on his lap. Bobby had cried himself to sleep, distraught over not

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only Veronica’s injury but having to hear her cry for Mike or her daddy or even Bobby as she sat alone in an ER examination cubby. Mike was not doing much better. He was only holding it together for Bobby’s sake. He wanted to go back outside and try to reach Lucas for the sixth or seventh time but was afraid to leave in case he missed something. Instead, he rocked Bobby and glared at the nasty intake nurse who gave him a smug look every time she looked his way. He’d made a point of reading her name tag. Nurse P. Geffen was a dried-up prune of a woman wearing a huge cross and WWJD earrings. She had to be the biggest hypocrite he’d ever met. She claimed to be a God-fearing Christian but did not have a Christian bone in her body. If she did, she would not let a child suffer just because of her parents’ so-called sin. It was definitely the opposite of “What Would Jesus Do?” despite the same expression the woman endorsed in her earrings. Mike had seen the light of recognition in the woman’s eyes when he first tried to admit Veronica. She’d also called Bobby by his name while Mike filled out the paperwork, further compounding Mike’s suspicions that the woman was a subscriber to one of the far-right sites proudly vilifying Mike and Lucas’s “ad hoc” family. So he wasn’t surprised when she told him that the papers giving him guardianship of Veronica in case of an emergency were no good and that she could not be admitted until a real parent arrived. Mike had started calling Lucas immediately, but with little luck. He’d also tried to call one of his friends to come

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and get Bobby. Unfortunately, Taylor and Sean were tied up and wouldn’t be able to get to the hospital until after six. After that Mike had run out of options and had returned to the waiting room and prayed that Nurse P. Geffen would change her mind. Thinking back gave Mike an idea. Lifting Bobby onto his hip, he went outside to make another call. At first, he wasn’t sure how to reach the person he needed, but that was the genius of this age of technology. With a quick Net search, he found what he was looking for and dialed the number. “Hello?” A female voice answered the phone on the second ring. “Hello, I’m looking for Cynthia Townsend, the mother of Veronica Townsend,” Mike said quickly. “It’s Cynthia Marsden now, but this is she. Who may I ask is calling?” Cynthia had a proper, upper-crust New England accent. She was obviously from old money. Mike hesitated for a second before speaking in a rush. “You don’t know me, but I’m a friend of Lucas’s. I’m sorry to be bothering you, but when I went to pick up Veronica from school, she’d just had an accident on the school playground. We’re at the hospital, but they won’t treat her because I’m not her guardian even though I have papers that give me the right in case of an emergency. Anyway, I was wondering if you could come down and admit her. She’s in a lot of pain.” “What hospital?” Cynthia asked quickly.

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“Johns Hopkins,” Mike answered. “And I can reach you at this number?” “Yes, but I might not have my phone on because I’ll be inside the hospital.” “You’re at the ER, and your name is?” “Yes, and my name is Mike.” “Well, Mike, I’m going to call what’s going on. need to reach me

I’ll be there in about twenty minutes, but my father and see if he’ll check in to see Now take down this number in case you and I’m in transit.”

Mike dutifully wrote down the cell phone number she rattled off and then thanked her profusely. He had not expected her to be so nice after the horror stories that Lucas and Veronica had told him about the divorce. Lucas had no idea how much Veronica knew had gone on during that time period. Someday, he would have to get the two to sit down and talk about it. It would probably take them a long way on the road of healing those hurts. Mike walked back in, feeling like a schmuck. If he had been calm and thinking clearly, Veronica would have been taken care of a long time ago. He couldn’t believe that he had forgotten about Veronica’s grandfather being a leading doctor here. They’d met last Christmas when he stopped by to give Veronica her presents from that side of the family. Veronica had been happy to see him and thrilled when he decided to stay for dinner. Dr. Randolph Marsden was actually quite

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happy to meet Mike, remarking on how much Veronica talked about him in their weekly phone visits. Mike had been surprised that the man had been so accepting of him. Dr. Marsden had caught Mike’s reaction and had explained that his daughter had always been a little high-strung but had grown rather rabid just after Veronica’s birth. The blowup and divorce had not taken him by surprise, though he had expected it to be over a woman instead of a man. On the other hand, he did not share his daughter’s almost pathological phobia of homosexuals. Dr. Marsden had been so supportive of their relationship it was a mystery to Mike that he could have forgotten all about him. Feeling relieved that he’d finally found a way to help Veronica, Mike took a deep breath for the first time in what seemed like hours. He closed his eyes and gave a little prayer of thanks, Bobby still sleeping in his arms. He finished just as his phone rang. The tension in his stomach and shoulders lessened greatly when he saw Lucas’s number on the caller ID screen before flipping the phone open. “Lucas.” He breathed his lover’s name as if it were a lifeline. “Mike, how is she?” Lucas asked without preamble. “I don’t know. They would not let me in with her,” Mike said, a lump in his throat making it difficult to speak. Lucas could hear the tears in Mike’s voice, and he spoke tenderly. “It’s okay. I’ll be there in an hour, less if traffic isn’t too heavy. Look, I want you to go back inside. I made a few

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calls, and the hospital director is coming down to straighten this mess out. If there are any other problems, call me. I’m in the car, and my phone is on,” Lucas said. “All right, Lucas,” Mike said with a little sniff. “Tell me how Veronica got hurt,” Lucas demanded, needing to know what happened. “She was playing on the jungle gym for recess when I got there. I had gone early to talk to their teacher, like I said I would last night. Though I did not get a chance to speak to Mrs. Pavel before she fell. In the ambulance she said that she was pushed, but she did not know who did it. Bobby didn’t see anything either, so I can’t tell you any more.” Lucas could hear the tears coloring Mike’s words. “Look, I’m going to let you go so I can concentrate on driving and get there faster.” “I’ll see you when you get here,” Mike whispered, sniffling at the thought of losing contact with Lucas for even an hour. “I’ll be there soon,” Lucas said into the phone, preparing to hang up, but hearing Mike sniff again changed his mind. “Mike,” Lucas called softly. “Yeah?” Mike asked, sounding small and alone. “I love you, baby,” Lucas said with sincere fervor. Then he added, “Everything will be all right.”

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Mike took strength from Lucas’s love and reassurance. Giving a watery smile, he said, “I know it will, babe. I’ll see you in a few.” This time when Lucas went to hang up, he felt better about Mike’s state of mind. Dropping his heel, Lucas began weaving in and out of traffic. He was driving a Mercedes. The German feat of engineering was made to chew up the autobahn at a hundred-plus miles per hour. It handled going seventy-five with an eager purr as Lucas sped home to get to his family. They needed him, and he hated being so far away from them at this moment. Mike went back into the hospital and within minutes there were three people in the ER looking for him and Veronica. Dr. Marsden arrived first, worry for his granddaughter etched clearly on his face. He greeted Mike quickly before brusquely asking the nurse where Veronica had been put. She directed him with a look of dismay, most likely surprised that someone from the hospital was asking about the girl. That look was nothing compared to the one on her face when the hospital director appeared, looking for Veronica’s admittance paperwork and Mike. Dr. Goldberg introduced herself, perused Mike’s papers of temporary guardianship and then told him everything was in order. She turned and proceeded to unleash hell on Nurse P. Geffen, who stood there in silence looking deathly pale. The stubborn nurse actually developed a nervous twitch when Dr. Goldberg demanded that she produce the

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admittance papers. The nurse stammered some excuse about having lost them, and the director opened up on her again. While the director was chewing the narrow-minded nurse out for ignoring hospital procedures, Cynthia arrived. Mike recognized her from the pictures Lucas kept around the house and waved her over. She heard just enough of the director’s tirade to get the gist of what was going on and joined in with some yelling of her own. He could understand why Lucas would avoid arguments after seeing Cynthia in action. She had the nurse on the verge of tears in seconds, shredding the woman’s smug superior attitude viciously. Mike would have found it funny if he wasn’t so worried about Veronica. The director got a hold of herself and quieted Cynthia before ordering the self-righteous prig of a woman to find the papers while she went to check on the patient. She escorted Mike and Cynthia back to Veronica, asking for a quick medical history as they walked, including a rundown of this current injury. Mike told her everything he knew, finishing just as they came to the curtain separating Veronica from the rest of the ER. Veronica gave a little cry of joy when she saw Mike, practically crawling into his lap she was so happy to see him. Her joy dimmed somewhat when she noticed her mother standing behind him. Mike soothed her, telling her how her mother had come to make sure that she got help. After a

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moment she relaxed a touch in Mike’s arms and gave her mother a tentative smile. Mike saw tears mist in Cynthia’s eyes as she whispered, “Oh, baby, I’ve missed you so much, and I’m so sorry for how I acted before.” Neither Mike nor Veronica was expecting that turn of events. It was a complete about-face from the Cynthia of nearly half a decade ago. They both watched as she delicately wiped the tears from her eyes and continued. “Baby, Mama was sick when you last saw her. No one knew just how sick. That’s why I was so hard to live with and so mean. I got some help and I’m doing so much better now. I wanted to call you and tell you but I was afraid that you wouldn’t want to have anything to do with me.” “Does this mean that I have to come live with you?” Veronica asked, suspicious of this woman who was behaving contrary to every memory she had of her mother. “No, baby. I’m not ready for that kind of responsibility again, and I’m not sure that I ever will be. But I would like to come visit you sometimes,” Cynthia reassured her daughter, and Veronica looked both relieved and happy. “I love you too, Mommy. I would hug you but it hurts to move,” Veronica said, deciding to give the woman who had birthed and tormented her another chance. “Thank you, baby. I knew from the moment you came into this world that you were something special,” Cynthia said, fighting to hold her tears at bay.

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“How could you tell?” Veronica asked, eager for a distraction. “All that pretty, curly strawberry-gold hair, of course,” Cynthia answered, stroking her daughter’s head lovingly. Dr. Goldberg interrupted the tender reunion, needing to take Veronica up to X-ray. She’d examined the little girl while everyone had been talking and was positive that her left arm was broken. However, she needed a few shots to see the extent of the damage. She allowed Mike to accompany the little girl, waving away any protests that the admittance nurse gave about the rules with a baleful look. Lucas rushed through the ER doors while his family was returning from the X-ray room. Unfortunately, he encountered the same nurse that Mike had at the front desk, and she was in a foul mood after not only being asked to take care of filth who were an affront against God and a corrupting influence to children, but getting chewed out by her bosses several times for her beliefs. Seeing Lucas, Nurse P. Geffen’s lip curled in utter loathing. She belonged to several online Christian communities that felt that the world’s moral compass was leading everyone away from God, and according to those Web sites which had reliable sources, Lucas and that man who had brought the child in were lovers, carrying on in the same house as two kids. She could not condone such a sinful lifestyle or the fact that they were not only exposing those children to such immoral ways, but they were actually having the little ones go out and promote that wickedness.

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She refused to have anything to do with such depravity. When Lucas spoke to her she pretended that he did not exist, which was hard because his dark auburn hair shone underneath the fluorescent lights, tempting her to run her fingers through it. It was a sin that this man was going against nature and copulating with men when there were so many women who were needy and alone. “I’m Lucas Townsend. Where is my daughter Veronica?” Lucas asked in an anxious rush. “She is not here,” the nurse told him, her blue eyes full of hatred. Lucas knew she was lying and demanded, “Tell me where my daughter is, woman, or I will call the director and have you fired!” “No. You are a monster teaching that little girl all types of perversions. It’s about time someone stepped in on the child’s behalf. God should strike you and your kind dead right here!” the woman thundered. Lucas stared at the woman in shock. His mind could not process the blatant, in-your-face discrimination. Most bigots were cowards preferring guerilla attacks as opposed to full-frontal assaults. He had never been subjected to such ignorant hate in person and had a difficult time believing that it was really happening. So, in a silky voice most people with a scrap of intelligence or sense of self-preservation would have found cause to back down, Lucas asked just two words.

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“My kind?” “Yes, you queers spreading the devil’s lies by trying to make everyone except sodomy as if it was a natural thing. In the Bible, God struck down Sodom and Gomorrah for those sins, and if we good Christians stand idly by and allow you sin-filled deviants to have your way then He will most assuredly strike down this great nation also,” the nurse preached, her face glowing as she began to detail the hellfire that Lucas and his “kind” deserved, and how they should have been too ashamed by their aberrant sexual appetites to have crawled out from under the rock that gays, beastfornicators, and child molesters had been hiding under since the time when Jesus walked the Earth. People in the waiting room turned, stunned by the vociferously vicious verbal attack pouring out of the woman’s frothing lips. Hospital staff came from all directions trying to quiet her, but with little success. Out of nowhere the director of Johns Hopkins Hospital appeared with several members of security. They forcibly escorted her to a back room where she would be fired and thrown off of the property in minutes. Lucas turned to see the last person he’d expected to see standing in a doorway, looking pale and full of self-reproach. “Cynthia?” Lucas wondered if he was hallucinating from his stressful day. “Yes, Lucas it’s me,” Cynthia said softly, looking in the direction that they had hustled the nurse toward rather than in her ex-husband’s eyes. “It’s very difficult for me to witness

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such behavior when I know that I was just as bad a few years ago. I’m sorry for what I put you and Veronica through. It was neither normal nor called for. I’d like to sit down with you over coffee and talk. I think it’s time we both found some closure.” Lucas was in shock. Never had his ex-wife been so rational before. During their marriage he had no idea what would set her off. Sometimes it was moving an object a fraction of an inch, or he did not notice that she had moved something that fraction of an inch. If everything wasn’t just right for Cynthia, Lucas usually ended up paying for it someway. He’ll never forget the flaming row that lasted for the first three months after moving into their house. She had discovered that one of the walls was off by a few millimeters. How she discovered Lucas would never know, but she had wanted to move immediately because the house was flawed. Lucas had refused, of course; they would not have the money for another down payment for several years, and the bank would not refund their money on such a flimsy reason. The fight carried on for months until Cynthia had come close to having a miscarriage. The stress from arguing had been too much on Cynthia’s beleaguered body. From that point on, Lucas had made it a policy to try to avoid the fruitless conflicts, and he had become quite successful at it. However, he’d lost pieces of himself in the process as she raked him through the coals in efforts to set him off.

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That woman was not the same woman standing before him, and he agreed to the offer of coffee more for Veronica’s sake than anything. Cynthia’s lack of nurturing had turned their daughter’s self-esteem to Swiss cheese. Maybe this new version of Cynthia could help heal some of that damage. After his acceptance, Cynthia gave him a quick update on their daughter’s condition and what had happened with Mike. Veronica had a compound fracture and her arm needed to be re-aligned. It was too swollen for a permanent cast, so she would be sent home with a splint and a bottle of children’s strength anti-inflammatory that would also help with the pain. Unfortunately, the delay in treatment might mean throwing off the realignment of the bone, so they might have to break the bone and reset it again. Lucas was furious. His company donated millions to this hospital, and it galled him that his daughter had been treated so poorly, especially when her grandfather worked there. It was intolerable, and he was determined to do what was necessary to keep this from happening again to him or anyone else. Lucas followed Cynthia to his daughter, who looked up at him with the bright green eyes she had inherited from him and began to cry. Lucas picked her up and rocked her gently, promising that everything would be all right, relieved to finally be with his daughter. Holding onto him tightly with her good arm, she quieted after a moment and allowed her tears to be dried.

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Relieved to see that Lucas had finally arrived, Mike gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, uncaring of who was watching, and scooped up Bobby, who had woken up as soon as they had reached the X-ray room. “Come on, squirt. We need to get out of the way so that the doctors can finish patching Roni up and we can go home,” Mike said, not wanting Bobby to have to be frightened by the procedure they were about to perform. He knew that it was pretty painful and decided that he better step outside to call Sean and Taylor. They were probably beside themselves with worry as they waited for an update on Roni’s condition. “But I don’t want to leave Roni,” Bobby protested. “Me either, but her dad and mom are there, and it’s too crowded for the doctors to get their job done without banging into somebody,” Mike explained, and he did not stop walking until he was through the emergency room doors. He inhaled deeply, thankful for the fresh air. He hated the tinny smell of blood and alcohol and other disinfectants. It burned his nose and made him wish to be nose-less. Looking down at Bobby’s too serious face, he voiced his thoughts, describing how he would look without a nose. The silliness sent the little boy into fits of giggles, making them both feel better. By the time Mike had made his calls, Taylor would not hang up until he had been reassured at least a hundred times that Veronica was going to be okay, and Lucas was

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carrying Veronica out still sniffling from the ordeal of having her arm reset. The hospital director had expedited the paperwork and sent them on their way as soon as the splint had been put on and instructions for care given. Both Lucas and Mike were grateful to head home. They picked up a pizza on the way and ate it on the floor of the family room while catching the tail end of a children’s comedy on TV. Bobby and Veronica fell asleep minutes after finishing dinner, worn out from the day’s events. Lucas and Mike decided to put them both in Veronica’s room in case of nightmares and put them to bed. Neither child woke as they were wrestled into pajamas and tucked in. In their own bed, Lucas and Mike had a long, serious talk. Lucas had had a radical shift in his stance on fighting for gay rights after what they had been through. He was furious that his daughter had been in agony because of the beliefs of a fanatic, and he was going to make people pay for it, which meant that he was ready to accept the president’s proposition. Lucas called the contact number he’d been given by the president as soon as he got into his office. He spoke with an aide who was obviously familiar with the project and the enlistees. The aide promised to deliver the message and asked for the number to Lucas’s private line in case they needed to reach him. Lucas glanced at the clock and sighed. In just under four minutes, he had just committed his family to something that would most likely turn their lives upside down. He was

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not sure if it was the best idea for the kids, but he knew that he could no longer stand on the sidelines. Bobby and Veronica were scrappers, and they had been ready for this fight before Mike and Lucas. Thinking of Mike and everything that stretched before them, Lucas worried that if it got too ugly Mike might take Bobby and run. There were no real ties to hold Mike to him. Lucas sighed, knowing that it was his own fault. He had married Cynthia after a whirlwind courtship. It had all been impulse spurred by Lucas’s deep-rooted wish to be normal. After it all fell apart, he had become gun-shy and had unwittingly been keeping Mike at a distance. As far as Lucas was concerned, there had been only one good thing that came from Veronica’s injury, which was that it cleared away the clutter in his mind and allowed him to focus on his relationship with Mike. Before the accident, their relationship had become strained. The knowledge that the distance had been mostly Lucas’s doing had caused a cancerous fear to begin growing in his heart that he was messing this up just like he had his marriage. Lucas had been too terrified to face it and had kept them locked in a holding pattern, hoping that everything would straighten out on its own. Then yesterday’s crisis with Veronica had made him see everything much clearer. Facing the possibility of losing someone you love had a way of making a person evaluate the rest of their relationships without rose-tinted glasses or fearmuddied vision. What Mike and he had was incomparable to

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his relationship with his ex-wife. Their love was true and strong, a real partnership. It was time for him to let go of the past just as his ex-wife had intimated at the hospital and begin living. Lucas made a point of calling Cynthia and inviting her to lunch, which she agreed to, letting him know that she was free this afternoon. So they made a date, and he made sure that his personal assistant cleared any meetings for a few hours. There was a lot that they needed to discuss. Lucas was concentrating on a sales report when his private line rang. Absentmindedly, he answered, indentifying himself. “Please hold for the president,” said the same disembodied voice as before, and Lucas found it no less disconcerting the second time around. “Lucas, how are you?” The president greeted him with unfeigned gusto. “I’m glad to hear that you’re throwing in on my project. Though, I do regret the events that most likely changed your mind. Believe me, Lucas, I would not wish that on any parent.” His comments made it clear to Lucas that the president was aware of their trip to the hospital yesterday, causing Lucas to stammer, “How—how did you know about that? Are you having me followed?” “No, though I’m sure that you would rather that than how I did find out about it. Somebody at the hospital videotaped the nurse. He caught her red-handed. Everything

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is on tape, from her throwing away Veronica’s intake papers to telling her all types of terrible things about you, to her final tirade. It seems that he’s an ambulance chaser and is using the footage as advertisement,” the president explained. “I don’t have people watching you, but ever since someone posted potentially harmful pictures of the grammar school class that I had visited a month ago, I’ve had people watching the Net for similar stuff in case of trouble. I apologize for the trouble it’s already brought your family.” “It is not your fault that there are a shitload of crackpots out there, but thanks anyway,” Lucas said with a sigh, before asking a question that had been dancing at the back of his head since the fist phone call. “I did not expect you to be so personally involved in this project. That’s not usual for most presidents, is it?” The president laughed and replied. “No, most presidents don’t. But I’m not like most presidents. I’m a hands-on guy, especially when it comes to things I believe in. And I really believe in this project.” “Well then, what’s the next step in your project?” Lucas asked, resisting the urge to call him Kimosabe. “Originally, I wanted to host some Web chats, but after what happened yesterday, I made a call to Oprah, and she can get you on her show next week. Do you think you and your family could make it?”

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Lucas flicked open his calendar and looked at his schedule, before replying, “Thursday and Friday are good for me.” “Great. I’ll tell Oprah to begin flipping her schedule around. I could also swing it so the rest of Bobby and Veronica’s class goes as a field trip. That way they won’t miss any school.” The president was on a roll. After a few more tweaks to the plan he ended the phone call to put his staff to work. Lucas leaned his head against the back of his chair. The Oprah show? Oh, he was in it now. While he had not tried to hide his sexual orientation or his relationship with Mike, he had never wanted to live his life “fabulously,” but he’d be damned if he lived another day waiting for this country to recognize that everyone had the right to be treated equal either. Lucas leaned forward, mentally preparing himself for getting to work, when his eyes fell on the picture of his family. Gently touching Mike’s image, Lucas had an idea on how to make it right between Mike and him.

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VII

“YOU’RE more nervous today than you were yesterday,” Mike said, looking up at his lover, who appeared as though he was about to faint from stage fright. Lucas gave Mike a wan look, before wrapping his arms around the slighter man and saying, “I know. This one seems harder than yesterday for some crazy reason. You would think I would be more terrified of one of those twenty-eight little boogers doing something unforgettably inappropriate on stage than a show with just my family. I guess it’s because we don’t have any distractions.” He buried his face in Mike’s dark curls, waiting for the Oprah show to begin. In a few minutes, his whole life was about to change, one way or another, in a very big way, and he was terrified. Lucas tensed as he heard the show’s opening music begin out in the studio. It was time, and he needed a little reassurance. “Mike, I love you,” Lucas said, kissing his cheek. “I love you too,” Mike said, squeezing him tightly and rubbing his back in an unconscious attempt to soothe whatever was bothering Lucas.

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The stage manager broke up their tender moment with a twenty-second warning and a couple of handlers brought Bobby and Veronica from the children’s playroom to join their parents. Smiling down at their children, Mike and Lucas took their hands, and as a family they walked onto the stage to show the world one of the many faces of love. The interviews went well. Everyone had a story to tell, speaking eloquently of their life experiences and their encounters with prejudice. Mike could see the stage lights reflecting off of the teary eyes in the audience, who were moved by his and Bobby’s story. However, it was Veronica’s and Lucas’s stories that got the most reaction from the crowd. Roni sat on her father’s lap with her bright pink cast sitting in plain view as she spoke of what it was like before Mike and after. Then she told what it was like to be in a waiting room alone with a broken arm and a fanatical nurse reviling her because her father and her uncle were in love. Mike and Bobby took over from there, reliving that horrible day last week, telling it from their individual points of view. Their words and bare emotions took the people listening along with them to viscerally experience a real-life nightmare, to have to sit by helpless while a loved one was forced to suffer because someone did not like the way a man lived his life. Then it was Lucas’s turn. Lucas’s voice broke as he spoke of that day. He did not rehash what had happened to him; it had been on the Web for a week, and the wire had picked it up. Instead, he talked about his feelings regarding what had happened. He spoke

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as a father rushing home to be with his injured daughter, connecting with the other fathers in the audience. He spoke as a man who loved maybe not wisely, but then one never had control of where the heart went, an experience that everyone no matter race, creed, religion, or gender shared. He spoke as a human being, mystified by the rampant hatred and discrimination wrought in the name of love. When Lucas finished he waited for Oprah to speak. His words had transformed the audience members’ emotions, already raw and inflamed from listening to his family, into a fiery outrage that would be tempered until it became firm resolve. Oprah stepped forward to point out that there had been no good reason for a child and her family, no matter how unconventional, to suffer like that. She likened it to the discrimination and prejudice her people had suffered since being brought over to the country. She reminded them that homosexuals had been burned beside Jews by the Nazis though no one spoke of the injustice. Oprah finished her monologue by saying that she had another guest waiting in the wings and brought out Cynthia, Lucas’s ex-wife. Everyone except for Lucas was shocked by the surprise guest. Cynthia showed her support of every member of the family on stage before sitting down in a chair next to Lucas and Veronica. She introduced herself to the audience, telling them that three years ago she had been hospitalized after her third attempt to take her own life. She had been a

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terrible wife and an even worse mother. It was a fact she’d always been aware of and had tried to fill the hole the knowledge had left by abusing prescription medication and fanatically clinging to a line of faith that was based on hatred. In the hospital, a kind sister took her in hand while she was finally diagnosed with clinical depression compounded by postpartum depression. She came to realize that most of her anger and hatred was actually how she felt about herself. It was the first step on the road to healing. Still, she was far from able to care for her child and was grateful that Veronica had Mike to care for her. Mike was wonderfully nurturing and was able to give her daughter all the things that she could not. Then Cynthia stood, taking Mike’s hand. “Thank you so much for being there for my daughter when I could not. I am glad that Lucas has finally found someone. He is a wonderful man and a good husband. I truly believe that the two of you will have a wonderful life together.” Mike looked bemused as she drew him from his seat to stand beside Lucas’s chair, before adding, “Lucas has something he wants to ask you.” With that she scooped up her daughter and stepped out of the way so that Lucas could slide to one knee. “Mike, I love you with all of my heart. I don’t know if this nation will ever allow us to express our love legally but I hope that someday you would marry me. Until then I want

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you to know that I am completely and utterly committed to you and our family, and I would love to perform a commitment service with you at your earliest convenience. Will you have me?” Lucas asked and then, feeling little hands on his shoulders showing their support, amended, “Us?” Mike threw himself into Lucas’s arms and nodded yes, too overcome to speak. As soon as he found his voice, Mike told him yes about forty times while the kids danced around them with glee and the audience clapped at the heartwarming moment. Everyone settled down when the president joined the show via satellite. On the show, he informed the nation of his feelings on the need for tolerance and understanding during these trying times. Lucas nodded his head, his expression serious as he listened to the president. He was a committed man— committed to fighting for GLBT rights, committed to raising two beautiful kids with intelligence and compassion, and committed to being a loving counterpoint to his beloved partner, Mike. “Drug use, gang violence, and other societal maladies that attack the conventional family unit are on the rise. Additionally, the number of parents forced to raise their children on their own with minimal support is also at an alltime high. The two-parent household is becoming a rarity more and more. Gone are the days of the Cleavers, but that

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does not mean that we are failing as a society. It means that we have to change our own paradigm. “But I want this country to know, there are still families out there, strong families who are standing tall and raising men and women who will become leaders of this nation. There are many courageous individuals who have stepped up to fill in the missing roles: grandparents, fathers, mothers, aunts, uncles, friends, and foster parents to form some rather unconventional, but strong families.” The president’s words brought applause from the audience. “We need to not just respect and honor these individuals but support them legally, so that they can act on a child’s behalf whenever possible. If Mike and Lucas had merely been single fathers who had banded together out of necessity, would Veronica’s treatment at the hospital have been different? Should it matter? It was the child’s welfare that was key, not who her parents were sleeping with. “It is why I am introducing a bill that will give individuals who form nontraditional family units and businesses that affect them a legal framework to deal with the phenomenon. This bill will cover everything from temporary guardians, to joint parenting by unmarried couples both romantically and platonically linked. It will also have provisions for adopting the many orphaned children who are being passed from home to home and give couples whether gay or straight the option of a commitment ceremony where marriage is either not possible or unwanted.

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“My plan is outlined in detail on the Web site, LovingFamilies.org. I hope that you will all write your congressperson and show your support for this initiative. Thank you, everyone, for taking the time out to listen to my plan. I hope you have a good morning. Oh, and Mike and Lucas—” the president started. “Yes, Mr. President?” “Congratulations on your upcoming ceremony. I have never met two people who fit so well together. Make sure you take care of each other and your little ones.” “Thank you, Mr. President. We will,” Mike and Lucas said before looking at each other. The last camera shot of the show captured a candid and tender look that would be splashed across the country. It was a look of love between two people that was undeniable and pure, especially as they scooped up Veronica and Bobby between them. They were a family that had been through the fire together and came out stronger than ever.

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JAELYN STORM has been a writing enthusiast and a bibliophile for nearly as long as she can remember. She started writing gay erotica in high school, though she will admit that it she was not very good at it back then. She lives in Chicago with her husband, whom she adores. She likes anime and manga, thinks yaoi is divine, and is a sci-fi buff. She is the perfect mate for her closet nerd of a husband, and they can be found haunting all types of “nerdy” conventions.

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Dear Mr. President ©Copyright Jaelyn Storm, 2009 Published by Dreamspinner Press 4760 Preston Road Suite 244-149 Frisco, TX 75034 http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/ This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. Cover Design by Catt Ford This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines and/or imprisonment. This eBook cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this eBook can be shared or reproduced without the express permission of the publisher. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press at: 4760 Preston Road, Suite 244-149, Frisco, TX 75034 http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/ Released in the United States of America June, 2009 eBook Edition eBook ISBN: 978-1-61581-001-7

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Dear Mr President

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Dear Mr. Bernard Shaw

Dear Mr Henshaw

Dear Mr. Capote (Lish, Gordon)

Dear Mr. Henshaw (rpkg) (Avon Camelot Books)

Dear Summer

Dear Fatty

Dear Bully

dear venus

Dear Devil

dear santa

Dear Santa

Dear Hacker

Dear Impostor

Dear Benefactor

Dear Irene

De President

De president

Madam President

De president

Madam President

Dear Prudence

Dear Sister

Dear Summer

Dear Husband

Dear Cary

Dear Gabriel

Dear Santa

Dear Dragon

Dear Annie

Dear Mr President

Mr. President Die Biografie

Dear Mr. Bernard Shaw

Dear Mr Henshaw

Dear Mr. Capote (Lish, Gordon)

Dear Mr. Henshaw (rpkg) (Avon Camelot Books)

Dear Summer

Dear Fatty

Dear Bully

dear venus

Dear Devil

dear santa

Dear Santa

Dear Hacker

Dear Impostor

Dear Benefactor

Dear Irene

De President

De president

Madam President

De president

Madam President

Dear Prudence

Dear Sister

Dear Summer

Dear Husband

Dear Cary

Dear Gabriel

Dear Santa

Dear Dragon

Dear Annie

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