And The Truth Shall Set You Free
Excerpts from Judd's Journal
Jan 7, 02
Jace left this morning. Six weeks of flying around the country signing his new book. This is only the third time he has had to do this since we became a couple. Definitely not often enough for me to get used to it. I am already lonesome for him.
I've spent the day thinking about the Deason family. Just some notes on my thoughts:
I was 13 and small for my age when Jace left home. Grandpa was always saying, "He's going to be just like Jace. When he hits sixteen, you'll think he's never going to stop growing." Well, he was right in more ways than that, because I turned out to be just like Jace in more ways than anyone expected. Not only was I just as tall as him, I looked more like him than any of his brothers. To top it off, I turned out to be gay just like him.
That's another thing that is very curious. When Jace got caught playing with a hired hand in the barn, why did Grandpa lose it? He took a raw hide rope to him, swearing that he'd beat the queerness out of him. And yet, when he'd caught Joe and Hank a couple of years earlier doing the same thing, he only reprimanded them for not being more discrete. Why the discrepancy in his behavior toward his sons?
Then there's the whole mystery of Dad's strained relationship with Grandpa. They barely abide each other's presence. And yet nobody seems the least bit curious about it, except me. When I asked my uncles about it, they referred me to my dad, and Dad's reply was for me not to worry about it, and to just stay out of Grandpa's way.
I've studied the interaction of my grandparents, parents and uncles for years. There's definitely some terrible things that have happened in this family that no one is willing to talk about. I sometimes feel that my mother is blissfully ignorant of it all, and then at other times, that she's simply putting on an act and just chooses to ignore all of the animosity between the men. Another thing, she doesn't seem to question at all, is the many hunting and fishing trips that Dad takes with my uncle, Mom's brother, Jim Brandis, who owns the ranch east of us. The two of them are the best of friends and yet, Mom and Nan Brandis (we've never called her aunt) don't socialize at all. Personally, Mom could be a good Stepford Wife; she sees to her husband's and sons' needs without any complaint. She seldom shows that she is upset. Of course, she has been known to lose her patience and her temper, but those rare times are over with almost as fast as they come on.
When Dad's at home, he is a completely different person than the one that is uptight and on edge whenever Grandpa is around. At home he's relaxed, loving and gentle. But once he steps into the yard he becomes a hard, no nonsense man, especially if Grandpa is near. I've never heard Dad call Grandpa 'Dad', it's always ‘Old Man'.
Uncle Joe seems to always be just Joe. Always the same. Nothing bothers him. He's always got a ready joke, a kind word and a smile for everyone. Then there is Uncle Hank. I think something terrible must have happened to Hank when he was a kid, and whatever it was, I feel that it is the crux of the whole situation. He is afraid of Grandpa, although he tries to act like he's not. He is very close to Joe, and spends most of his time with him. I sometimes feel they are married to each other, but I've never witnessed any PDA between them. Hank is always near Joe, no matter what they are doing. Hank looks at Dad like he is some kind of god, too. Joe and Hank live in the middle house, which they had built after Jace left home. I've never been in it except when it was being built. It has one very large bedroom and bath at the back with just a big kitchen and living room in the front.
That leaves the last brother. The youngest. Jace. Jace is different from his brothers. He doesn't have that protective shell the other three seem to have. One could almost say that compared to them, he is delicate. Yet delicate is not a word that fits Jace at all. Jace has a vulnerability about him that is lacking in Dad and Joe. Hank seems to have a similar vulnerability, but it's more like he has been very badly abused or something, kind of like a mistreated animal.
I've tried to talk to Jace about Grandpa and his relationship with his four sons. Jace's response was that the subject was closed. Tabu was the word he used.
All of these things keep floating around in my head. I know there is a story to be told about this family. And I think I shall soon write one. It obviously will be a fiction based on my conjectures, since no one will out the truth to me.
I'm nearly twenty- eight now. I've followed in my beloved's footsteps. Since graduating from UCLA, I've been lead writer on two successful TV sitcoms, and I've got a novel being published. The release date is in three months. I guess I'll be doing the same thing Jace is doing right now. Out on tour, signing books.
With these accomplishments under my belt, and my inheritance, I can just sit back and write what I want. Which is exactly what I shall do at the end of my present contract with HBO.
Feb 23, 02
Jace returned last night from his book signing tour for his latest novel, 'The Rainbow's Reflection'. His last four novels have been best sellers. He says mine is better than his. Well, I guess sales will reveal the truth once it gets published. God, it is so wonderful having him back, being able to touch him and be touched by him.
Feb 27, 02
Grandpa died last night. Dad called first thing this morning. Jace and I will be flying back for the funeral. Dad's meeting us in El Paso. Midland- Odessa is a lot closer, but Dad insists on us flying into El Paso. I guess he wants some time with us without the rest of the family.
I was never close with my grandfather. I tried to be, but he seemed to shy away from me. I remember once when I was about ten, he was trying to correct the way I flicked my wrist when throwing a rope. He was kneeling behind me with his hands on mine holding the rope. Both of us were intent on the lesson, and didn't hear my dad walk up. He cleared his throat and Grandpa nearly jumped out of his skin. He stood up and tried to explain to Dad about what he was teaching me.
"You keep your hands off my son. You hear me, Old Man?" he said.
His voice scared me. It was so cold and emotionless. It must have scared Grandpa, too, because he just affirmed that he had heard, turned on his heels and walked into the house. The next time I saw him, his eyes had such a pained expression when he looked at me. I wanted to run to him and tell him everything was okay, but I knew it wasn't. I've never known why it wasn't, but the knowledge that it wasn't, was there.
Mar 02, 02
The funeral was a weird experience. The day was cold, overcast and blustery The service was at the grave side on hill over looking the ranch. There was no preacher to preside over it. Several of the neighboring ranchers spoke, telling of their memories of the man they knew and remembered. Dad stood at the foot of the grave with his hat clasped in both hands and looked up at the grey cold sky, and prayed, "God, on behalf of my father, I beseech You to forgive him his sins and trespasses. I believe he suffered enough on this earth to make up for the things he did. Let him have the peace and love everyman deserves at Your side. Amen."
With a nod from Dad, my three brothers and I, his four grandsons, lifted the casket with one of us on each end of the two ropes, while Dad and Joe pulled the two 4X4s away that it was resting on. We then gently let the ropes play out, lowering the casket to the bottom of the grave.
The excavated dirt had been piled on each side of the six foot deep hole. Dad then took a shovel of dirt and tossed it on the casket. Each of my uncles did the same with their shovels. Dad and Jace dug into one pile while Joe and Hank dug into the other. I had moved from the side of the grave, where I had stood next to Jace, to the foot of it to stand with Uncle Jim. Then my three uncles and my dad each took their turns tossing shovelfuls until the hole was filled. While I watched with Uncle Jim's arm around my shoulders, I wondered what Grandpa had done that Dad referred to in his prayer.
Grandma and Mom sat together, bundled against the cold wind at the head of the grave with my three brothers. The two oldest with their wives at their sides, and the youngest with his fiancee. We all watched until the earth was piled high on top of the grave.
When the job was finished, those four men, my three uncles and my father, looked at each other with a sigh of relief and then grinned at each other.... then Hank started bawling and collapsed into Joe's arms. Dad and Jace strode over Grampa's grave to get to him. The four men stood in a huddle, hugging and consoling Hank. In that moment, I realized a truth that had been around all my life. A nightmare that they had lived with, most of their lives, had ended... somehow... with Grandpa's death.
While I stood at the foot of Grandpa's grave watching Dad and his brothers hugging, I remembered the day when I was thirteen, that Grandpa had caught Jace with the hired hand and tried to beat him. Dad was away that day.
It was one of those hot white days. The air was so dry that there was hardly any blue in the sky. The wispy little clouds were almost indiscernible; white on near-white. It was quiet. The birds that usually twittered in the leafy shade of the single tree in that barren backyard were still. Out past the corral a big old black bird sat on a fence post occasionally shattering the silence with a loud raucous squawk.
I was sitting in the old tire swing under the big old elm tree that grew near the corner of my grandparents' house. All the grownups were out of sight. Grandpa had left in his pickup. I knew Jace was in his room with Grandma doctoring his back where the skin had been cut by the rawhide rope that Grandpa had used on him.
I could see Mom at her kitchen window doing something at the sink. She kept glancing down the road. I guess she was watching for Dad or Grandpa to return. She saw me looking at her and smiled at me. My brothers were playing with their toy trucks in the shade of the tree. I could tell that they instinctively knew that something major had happened by the way they were behaving. My other two uncles had gone off somewhere by themselves right after Grandpa left. Hank had been acting kinda weird, like he was scared of his own shadow. Joe was being very solicitous to him.
Grandpa drove into the yard and parked near the barn. He sat there staring straight ahead for a long time before getting out and trudging inside. After a bit, I wandered over and peeked around the edge of the big double door. It was dark inside. Flies were buzzing around in lazy circles. I didn't see Grandpa at first, and then he swatted at the gnats. He was sitting on a bale of straw, resting his forearms on his knees. His head hung down in defeat. When he let out a big audible sigh, I turned and meandered back to the swing and the cool shade of the tree. I knew Dad would be angry with me if I tried to talk to Grandpa.
A while later, I saw a cloud of dust rising behind Dad's pickup as it flew towards us. He came to a crunching, skidding stop by the back door of Grandma's house. He leapt out of the pickup before it completely stopped and sprinted up the steps and through the back door. I turned and looked at Mom watching from her kitchen window, her gaze intent on the door Dad had gone through.
Just moments later, Dad came back out, pushing the screen door out of his way so hard it slammed against the wall and bounced back hitting his shoulder. Grandma and Jace followed him out, but stopped at the edge of the steps. Grandma yelled out to him, "Tom, don't do anything you'll regret."
He strode to the barn, ignoring Grandma. I jumped out of the swing and ran over to listen. He stopped in the doorway. In the quiet heat, I heard him talking to Grandpa in a sad low voice.
"I should whip you within an inch of your life with the same rope you used on Jace. But Jace begged me not to do it. Why'd you do it, Old Man? You know you've lost the only son that still loved, don't you?"
I had crept over to stand behind Dad. I heard Grampa sigh, and then say, "You'll never understand. So there's no reason for me to try explaining it to you."
"No, I don't understand. You must have some hellacious demon inside you that makes you do the things you've done to your own sons."
I kicked a stone with the toe of my boot. Dad turned and looked down at me.
"Judd, go inside and see if your mother needs any help."
I cocked my head to the side and looked up at him, trying to convey that I wanted to stay. One side of his mouth quirked into an almost smile. His eyes sparkled with love for me.
"Go on, Son. You don't need to hear this."
When Dad looked at me like that, it always made me feel good and made me want to do what he told me. I turned and ran across the dusty yard into our house. I've always wondered what was said after I left. My brothers didn't seem interested at all. They just went on playing with their trucks.
Mar 3, 02 Mon
We stayed a couple of days, after the funeral, visiting with Grandma and the rest of the family. Dad and Uncle Jim took us back to El Paso to catch a flight back to L.A. Jace again rode in the front with Dad while Jim kept me company in the back. Both coming and going, I tried to hear what Dad and Jace were discussing, but Jim kept up a constant discussion with me. I swear it was on purpose. Every once in a while I'd catch Jace looking at me. I couldn't decipher his expression. And I'd catch Dad looking at me in the mirror, too. They were definitely talking about me.
Standing at the gate ready to board, Dad and Uncle Jim hugged us one last time. As Dad hugged Jace, I heard him murmur to him, "In two weeks then."
We waved goodbye and got on the plane. When we settled into our first class seats, Jace reached over and squeezed my hand with a big sigh. I looked at him with a silent query and he just smiled at me, laid his head back and closed his eyes. I looked around; it appeared that we would be the only ones in this section.
"What's happening in two weeks?" I asked.
"You heard that, huh?"
I mentally called him a damned Yankee, answering my question with another question. I kept silent. He opened one eye and glanced at me. Seeing that I was still looking at him, waiting for an answer, he closed his eyes.
"Your dad and Jim are going hunting," he said.
"Yeah?" I urged.
"You want to join them?"
"You're joking. No one has ever been allowed to join them."
Without opening his eyes, he raised his eyebrows. "Times have changed. Mom's moving to Dallas. Your mom and Nan, Jim's wife, are both seeking divorces. Your brothers, Tommy and Jimmy are building themselves houses over at the springs at Flat Top. And Bobby has been given permission to move into the big house when he gets married this next spring."
"I already knew that, but I hadn't heard about the divorces. You'd think that Mom would have told me."
Jace just shrugged.
I thought about all this for several minutes. The implications. My conjectures.
"So we're invited to join them?" I asked.
"In a sense. They are coming out to stay with us."
"Oh." I thought about the implications then asked, "You just up and invited them?"
"No. Your dad just informed me that that was what's going to happen."
"Sounds like Dad."
Silence fell between us. We were in the air now, so Jace laid his seat back and closed his eyes. I stared out the window watching an occasional puff of cloud whisk by as the plane flew over the New Mexico landscape.
"Jace?"
An eyebrow raised.
"How long have Uncle Jim and Dad been lovers?"
"Who says they are?"
"Oh come off it!" I laid my seat back so that we were eye to eye, even though his eyes were still closed. "You know they are, as well as I do."
Both of his eyebrows shot up as if he were surprised that I knew. "I suppose since they were young boys."
"That's kind of what I have figured. Where are we going to put them up?"
"How would you feel about getting another bed and setting it up next to ours? There plenty of room, just move things around a little."
"Don't you think they'd enjoy a bit of privacy?"
"It was Tom's suggestion."
This was making me very uneasy. Jace has always referred to his brother when talking to me as 'your dad,' and here suddenly, it's 'Tom.'
"What about our privacy?"
He shrugged. "We'll put a couple of partitions between the beds if that will make you more comfortable."
"They'd still be able to hear us," I said.
"We'll be able to hear them, too."
"Well, yeah...... doesn't that make you uncomfortable?"
Jace opened both eyes and looked at me. "So what do you want to do?" he asked.
I brought my seat back to an erect position and stared out the window. There was an undercurrent here. I was missing something. I turned and looked at Jace. He was watching me. I looked back out the window. I refused to let myself think the thoughts that kept trying to emerge. They sneaked in anyway.
I had never seen my dad naked. Even when he took his shirt off, he wore an undershirt, one of the kind some call a wife beater. Now, here I was wondering what he looked like naked. And then I thought about Jim. He and Dad were like salt and pepper. Where Dad was blonde, Jim had brown hair. I conjectured that he was as hairy as us, judging from his arms and the hair sticking out of his shirt collar.
I looked back a Jace. He was still watching me. I wondered if he could detect my thoughts. I know I blushed. He gave me a knowing smile. Did he know where my mind was. I laid my seat back and faced him again.
"Jace, I've never had sex with anyone but you," I murmured.
He grinned. "And I have been true to you all these years."
I nodded, but didn't smile. This conversation had me totally weirded out. Not what had been said, but what had been left unsaid. The implications of what might happen. Jace was being close-mouthed. I had no idea how he felt about this. Maybe I was just building towers out of clouds. I undid my seatbelt, stood up and looked down at him. He was still staring at me. His expression unreadable.
"Where're you going?" he asked.
"Gotta piss."
"Mmm."
He closed his eyes. I moved toward the toilet. Once inside I stared at my reflection as I relieved myself. I washed my hands and then splashed my face. I studied myself in the mirror as I blotted off the water. There was a scared rabbit look in my eyes. I wondered if Jace saw it. And if he did, why was he being so unresponsive? He's my lover, he should be comforting me, instead of just watching me like he was expecting something more out of me.
I stepped out of the cubicle. Jace's eyes were closed. If he heard me, he gave no indication. I hesitated, and then went to the back row and sat down. The steward asked me if I'd like a drink. I hadn't touched alcohol since nearly killing myself with it. I shuddered and asked for a Coke. When he brought it, he tried to strike up a conversation. He could tell I was distracted and finally left.
Crazy thoughts fluttered through my mind as I stared over the seat backs at the top of Jace's head. Over the years we had ogled good-looking guys together. But the thought of anyone touching me intimately other than Jace was verging on the abhorrent. And I couldn't quite imagine Jace wanting to get intimate with someone else. It just wasn't in his nature. So what was going on now?
When we landed at LAX, Jace looked momentarily surprised that I was sitting by myself in the back row and then acted as though nothing was out of the ordinary. I decided to act the same.
Mar 7, 02 Fri
Everything is back to the norm, at least on the surface. The impending visit hasn't been mentioned. I've done my best not to think about it until now.
Jace is over at the USC library doing research for the background of his next novel. I've been sitting here thinking, and staring at this screen for a couple of hours. I know what I will do! I will rearrange this whole place and set it up where Dad and Jim will have as much privacy as can possibly be done with these movable partitions.
* * *
I did it. At the back of the storage cage by the lift I'd found sixteen partition walls like the ones that Jace had around the kitchen area. Whoever designed them was a genius. They are six foot long by eight feet high. If I had to lift them, I'd never been able to do it by myself, even though they are quite light for their cumbersome size, but they had built in rollers and fold out stabilizers that make them easy for one man to handle.
I turned our bedroom sideways to what it was, and tightened it into the corner with a solid wall separating it from another area the same size where I placed the new king size mattress and the bedroom furniture that Jace had purchased and had delivered. Both rooms have access to the one bath that way, without exposure to the other. Well, more or less. It's not like having doors and hallways, although the dividing wall has a 'T' in front of the bathroom door, giving the effect of a hallway.
Mar 10, 02 Mon.
We got a call from Dad this evening. I answered the phone. Dad talked to me about inconsequentials for a couple of minutes and then asked to talk to Jace. Jace took the phone and wandered away from the desk where I had been writing. He stood at the window looking out over downtown while he talked. All of my apprehension came back as he would turn and glance back at me occasionally with a slight frown on his face, but when I caught his glance, he smiled at me. I didn't know what they were talking about, or what Jace was covering up with his smile, but it was beginning to piss me off.
When he ended the conversation, he set the phone on the table in front of the window and headed for the bathroom. He glanced at me as he went through the door. It was with a look of concern that quickly turned into just another smile when he saw I was looking at him. What did that smile mean? What was he and Dad cooking up that involved me?
When I was thirteen and Jace left for California, I knew that I loved him, that I was in love with him. At 22, I was still in love with him and it was at that time that I decided to take matters into my own hands. I applied for admission to UCLA and got it. And then I convinced Dad that he should talk Jace into letting me go out to L.A. and stay with him for a while. I was sure I could convince Jace to love me. I didn't tell Dad my intentions.
In all my years of secretly loving Jace, I had never thought about incest. And when I finally did, I saw no need to be concerned about it. I mean...get real...incest is all about genetics, and neither of us were going to get pregnant.
But that was with Jace. As I sat there waiting for him to come back into the living area, my mind was going wild imaging what they were planning on happening when Dad and Jim arrive. Being that I wasn't in on the plans, I was imaging all kinds of crazy things - mostly involving sex. And I wasn't ready to have sex with my dad. Jeez, he's my dad. Or with my dad's lover.
When Jace didn't come back, I got up and walked into the bedroom to find him in bed, apparently asleep. I sat down beside him on the bed. He opened his eyes and looked at me.
"Are you feeling ill?" I asked.
"No, I feel fine. Just felt like a nap."
"So what did you and Dad talk about?"
"Oh, not much really."
"Well, I must have been much of the subject the way you kept looking back at me. What was said?"
"We were just discussing how successful your book is going to be."
"Oh," I said, and stood up. I walked over to the chifferobe, opened it, took out a fresh shirt and started changing into it.
"What are you doing?" Jace asked watching me.
"Putting on a fresh shirt."
"I can see that. Why?"
"I've had that one on all day. It's kind of smelly."
I walked over to the dresser as I tucked the tails into my jeans. I picked up my wallet and keys, stuffing them into my pockets.
"Where are you going?"
"Out."
"Why?" he asked, sitting up.
I turned and faced him.
"You won't talk to me. Maybe some stranger in a bar will."
The clear golden skin of Jace's face turned kind of blotchy. It's a weird thing about us Deasons when we get upset. Ignoring the fact that he was upset, I turned and walked away from the bed.
"Please, don't, Judd."
I turned and looked at him.
"Ever since the funeral you've made me feel like you're hiding something from me. In the last twelve days I've continually caught you frowning at me, yet you smile at me when you realize I've caught you. You talk on the phone to Dad and keep looking at me with a strange expression on your face. I don't know what's going on and I'm fed up. So give me a reason to stay."
"I love you. And I'm asking you to not go out."
"But you won't tell me what's going on."
"I can't. I promised Tom I wouldn't."
"I see."
I turned on my heels and walked into the livingroom. I picked up the phone and dialed Dad's number.
"Who are you calling?" Jace asked, standing next to the sofa, bare assed. God he is so beautiful. I could almost give in and take him to bed. I raised my eyebrows at him.
Dad answered. I didn't even greet him.
"This is Judd. I just want you to know that I'm ready to walk out on Jace. I don't know what you two are up to. He says you made him promise not to tell me. I am not sticking around feeling like a fifth wheel in my own home. So... it's on your head."
I hung up without giving him a chance to reply. I had never talked to my dad like that. The phone was ringing before I could get to the door. Jace picked it up. There was a lot of whispered arguing. I put on a light jacket, acting unconcerned, but dying to know what was being said and hoping my ploy was going to work.
"Judd, your dad wants to talk to you." I grimaced at him, sauntered over and took the phone from his hand, ignoring the frown on his face.
"Yes?" I said into the mouth piece.
"Son, I don't know what's going on in your head to make you react this way. And before I have to admit to what Jace and I have been discussing, let me ask you one question. When is your birthday?"
With out thinking I answered.
"March 23rd."
"And today is?"
"The tenth."
"Good. Now, two and two are...?"
"Four." I answered automatically wondering what he was getting at.
"Ah, so you can put two and two together and come up with the right answer. Need I say anymore?"
"No, sir," I said, feeling foolish for not having figured it out by myself before now.
"Good. Let me speak to Jace. And Judd, I love you, Son."
"I love you, Dad."
I handed the phone to Jace and moved over to sit on a barstool at the kitchen counter. I watched him in deep discussion again. And then he turned and walked close enough that I could hear dad tell him that if I gave him any more grief to call him back. Jace looked at me and grinned. I was still feeling pissy about the situation. I had a gut feeling that something still wasn't right. I just stared back at him.
When he set the phone down, he walked up to me. I couldn't, for the life of me, keep from enjoying looking at his long lanky body.
"You still going out?"
I shrugged and said, "I might."
"You're not still mad at me are you?"
He rubbed his thighs against my knees. I couldn't help but watch his pendulous cock swinging above my legs. I resisted reaching for it and looked him in the face.
"Yeah. I am."
"Can you tell me why?" he asked in a quiet soothing voice.
I stood up, making him back away and then I strode across the room.
"I am angry because you let me stew in my maddening imagination all this time."
He stood there in all his naked glory with his eyebrows raised, waiting for me to say more.
I sighed. "Maybe I'm angry at myself for being able to imagine the things I did."
"So are you angry at me, or yourself?"
"Both. Fuck!" I raised my voice. "Just don't talk to me. I need to think about this."
Jace chuckled, "First he wants me to talk to him and then he doesn't want me to talk to him, what's a guy to do?"
He went into the kitchen talking to the ceiling, or maybe God. He raised his hands in supplication and pulled a big bottle of Coke out of the fridge. He held it up and looked at me. I nodded without thinking about what he was doing. He filled two glasses with ice and Coke. I moved into the kitchen and took the drink as he held it out to me. I kissed him thanks. He grinned at me which made me realize what had just happened. Damn, we are so much of one mind that we don't even have to talk to communicate.
"You shit heel. You just did that on purpose, didn't you?" I frowned at him, doing my best to be aggravated at him, and not succeeding.
"You got the message didn't you," he said with a shit eatin' grin.
I grimaced as I sat my drink down on the counter and took his from him and set it next to mine. I wrapped my arms around him and pressed my lips against his. His tongue sought entrance. I let him in and we danced from mouth to mouth. My hands were exploring his naked skin from his neck down to his thighs.
Jace had his hand inside my shirt which I wasn't even aware that he had pulled loose from my jeans. He broke the kiss. "You've got too many clothes on."
I stepped back and started pulling my jacket off. Jace was helping by unbuckling my belt and unbuttoning my Levi's. As I pulled my shirt over my head, I was at the same time scraping the heel of one boot against the edge of the sole on the other. Jace knelt and helped get them off my feet, and then grabbed my pant legs and pulled my jeans off along with my socks. I was naked like him.
Jace kissed his way up my thighs, bypassing my burgeoning equipment. He kissed his way up my belly and chest, stopped to tickle each of my nipples with his tongue and then attacked my mouth again.
And hour or so later we were sated. I couldn't recall doing it, but somewhere along the way we'd moved to the bed. I lay with my head on Jace's chest. His arm around me, my limp cock pressed against his thigh. I brushed a fingertip across his nipple. He grabbed my hand and pulled it to his lips. "Too sensitive," he muttered as he kissed my fingers.
"But, so tempting."
"Hmm."
Both of us dozed a bit. I felt Jace move and opened my eyes to see him pull on his scrotum.
"We've got to go shower. I'm sticking to myself."
"I don't think I can move. I'm stuck to your side," I muttered, not even attempting to move.
"Come on, Judd. I can't get up with you lying on me."
"I have no intention of moving. Besides, I think there is more than just my birthday coming up. A birthday surprise does not take that much arguing and secretiveness."
I felt Jace sigh and relax in resignation. He didn't say anything.
"Jace?" I paused, waiting for him to look at me. He didn't. "I was wondering. We've never kept anything from each other. No secrets. That was our agreement."
"True."
"So why now?"
"So why now what?"
"Why did you promise Dad to keep this, whatever he's planning, from me."
"It's his secret, not mine. And besides, it's nothing serious."
"No?"
"Not really."
"Letting me imagine all the horrible things I possibly could is not serious."
"You're just being neurotic," he said with a short bark-like laugh. "What have you been imaging, anyway?"
I pushed away from him and sat up. His cavalier attitude was angering me again.
"Neurotic, Mr. Kettle? How dare you, of all people, call me that."
Jace sighed, turning on his side and propping his head up with a scrunched pillow.
"Okay, Mr. Pot, I concede. I was out of line. What were you imaging?"
"It's too embarrassing to tell you."
"You don't have to then."
He rolled onto his back and closed his eyes. I sat there in a half lotus and stared at him.
"Jace?"
"Hmm?"
I stretched out and lay down beside him, my hands behind my head.
"You told me once that you and your brothers played around with each other."
"Mm Hmm."
"So did you do it with my dad?"
"Do what with your dad?"
"You know. Did you have sex with him."
"Why are you asking that?"
"Just curious?"
"And what brought on this curiosity?"
"Have you ever answered a question without asking a question?"
"Why do you want to know that, Judd?"
I knew he was ignoring my rhetorical question, and was referring to why I wanted to know about him and Dad.
"The answer might put my mind at ease."
"And if it doesn't?"
"Then I might just run screaming into the night." I was trying to put a bit of levity into the situation, but deep down I knew there was a germ of truth in it if any of my imagings came true.
"Well, I don't think you need to know the answer."
"So you did."
"I didn't say that."
"Well, if you hadn't, you'd have just said so," I insisted.
"Not necessarily."
"So was it often? Just once or twice? Or somewhere in between?"
Jace rolled his eyes up as though trying to see the top of his head, blinked a couple of times and sat up.
"I guess I'll go shower," he said.
I let him get to the bathroom door before stopping him.
"So we're back to where we were just before I called Dad."
Jace stood there with a hand on the door frame staring at me for a long time. I couldn't figure out what his expression meant. Finally he spoke.
"Judd, let me take a shower, and then I'll talk to Tom, again. I've changed my mind. I feel that you will not let this rest until you know all the truth. And it is not my place to tell you. So, please, don't ask me again. Tom will tell you when he gets here."
"What are you talking about?"
"Judd...." He held up his hands. "Please."
"So I have to wait until Friday?" Even to my own ears I sounded like a petulant spoiled brat.
"No. Tom had wanted to come tomorrow afternoon. I told him no. I'll call him back and tell him to come ahead."
He turned to go into the shower. I jumped off the bed and followed him.
"Jace, why does this make me feel frightened? What is so terrible that you have been arguing with him over it since Grandpa's funeral?"
Jace took me in his arms, pushing my head down onto his shoulder.
"Whatever it is, Judd, I'll still be loving you just as much after you find out. Come on, I need you to wash my back."
How could I resist that invitation. Jace certainly knows how to get my mind off of a subject.