Shattered Glass

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Shattered Glass Page 27

by A. C. Katt


  “Menendez, you nailed it,” Sam said with a smile. “Liam wrote that arrangement for Milo’s birthday the day our original singer left the band. He did his audition with it.”

  “I did,” Liam affirmed. “And Sam acted like a pokey bastard about both me and the sax until he heard me sing. Next thing, he ran down to Lily with Milo, asking her if I could join the band.” Liam stopped cold for a moment, and then softly continued, “Although I think you heard that tale once already today.”

  Joe answered, “It means even more now. I never would have associated it with my favorite track. It makes sense now. It’s the only cover Shattered Glass ever did. The arrangement is a thing of beauty, genius, I always thought. You wrote it as a love song to Milo, didn’t you?”

  “Fuck, after all these years, finally someone figures it out,” Liam grumbled.

  Milo came up behind Liam and kissed him on the back of the neck. “I knew, baby. I always knew. That’s why it was the one song I never played all the time we were apart. So let’s do it now and see what Joe can do with a sax between his teeth.”

  They played ‘Lover’s Suite’ first for a sound check and a second time to set the beats and cues. To Sam, Liam, and Milo it was déjà vu. To Joe and J.B., it was magical.

  Milo played the cord combo that repeated four times and slid his mellow voice over the intro. “Turn around…”

  Liam picked up his cue exactly three beats after Milo. “Know that I’m in love with you.”

  Then the lonely sound of a sax floated round the blended voices as they reached a crescendo.

  Liam hit the last stanza full voiced, and the sax made its own statement in conjunction with his voice.

  Turn around look at the view

  Know that I’m in love with you,

  Waiting for the time you see

  That you can be in love with me

  It’s way too early to feel this way

  But I need you to let me stay

  Until the day you see me

  The lover who will set you free

  “Fuck,” exclaimed Sam, “when we finally threw in the sax, it sounded even better than the original.”

  “I kept trying to tell you, but you wouldn’t listen,” Liam said, wagging his finger at his friend. Milo and J.B. laughed at the two of them until tears ran down their cheeks. Joe sat on his stool in astonishment that he actually had a part in making that awesome sound. A wake-up call became unnecessary. They jammed right up until it was time to leave the house to catch the plane.

  As Milo locked up and set his auto-timers for the gardens’ drip watering system, Liam looked around. “Milo, you’ll invite me back?”

  “Baby, this is your home now, too. You know, I sold the house in Rumson, but after a few years, I bought it back. I couldn’t stand the idea of anyone else being there but you and me. That is also your home, if you want it to be. I don’t know how many ways I can say it. I love you. I need you, and I want you to be mine forever. Those words aren’t song lyrics, baby, they are my personal truth.” Milo pulled Liam back against him. Liam felt Milo’s hard cock rubbing against his ass through the worn material of his blue jeans.

  “I was always yours, Milo, and it was always forever. This time, let’s just take the forever and add together,” Liam replied.

  “Brat.”

  “Yours.”

  “Always mine.” Milo, as usual, had the last word.

  * * * *

  Five tired but happy men boarded the Gulfstream 550 taking off from the Double Eagle airport on the west side of Rio Rancho. It didn’t have the promised bedroom, but it did have seven divans, so that five men could be comfortable during the seven-hour flight to New Jersey.

  They landed at the Farmingdale/Belmar airport mid-afternoon. Sam arranged for the party to be met by a limousine and a private car. The car would carry Joe—who, with the permission of his producers, joined the entourage—and J.B. to the Rumson house to check on its security in preparation of Liam and Milo’s arrival. They also decided to stop at Liam’s place to determine if there were any additional presents left at his door or in his mailbox.

  The limousine journeyed in rural western New Jersey, the home of Redbrook House, a residential drug treatment center that offered a two-pronged rehabilitation program. Rick initially spent five weeks in the Redbrook facility in Pennsylvania, where he spent his time in detox while receiving a matrix of interdisciplinary therapies using a holistic approach to the treatment of his addiction and hepatitis. After a five-week treatment, Rick then transferred to a second, transitional facility tucked away in Upper Freehold Township. This part of Rick’s rehabilitation was designed for those patients who faced severe physical disability and whose condition shortened their life span as a consequence of their drug habit.

  Sam had studied countless brochures since placing Rick in his first drug rehab stint at Betty Ford. Since then, he’d been through this cycle many times. Redbrook appealed to Sam because the atmosphere was both private and luxurious, but not designed with celebrity residents in mind. The program, though unusual in its approach, successfully treated patients with a long history of recidivism. Sam needed this treatment to take because Rick would soon run out of the physical stamina needed to survive an ongoing drug addiction. Although Sam hadn’t told Milo, Rick’s experiences over the last year had included an AIDS scare from a dirty needle, two incidents of hospitalization due to “accidental” overdose, and a permanent case of hepatitis C.

  The hepatitis C sent Sam to Milo and Liam, and led eventually to Redbrook. He’d previously felt that his friends were responsible for Rick’s physical and emotional state. He’d been so very wrong.

  Liam and Milo were victims, and Rick, part of the problem. That his friends stood ready and willing to help—despite what Rick had done—stunned him. He had forgotten in the intervening years how the four men bonded back in the beginning. How they regarded each other as brothers of the heart, which held a far deeper obligation than mere blood. Sam was glad that he turned to them in his fear for Rick because it brought back his early realization that these two men became his friends forever, no matter what occurred in the past six years.

  Sam determined never to let them down again.

  Now, with no one else around but the three of them, it became time for him to divulge how bad Rick’s condition had become. Milo and Liam sat across from him, sprawled on the bench seat. Milo couldn’t seem to let go of Liam. They touched each other constantly. While they walked, Milo held Liam’s hand, and in the plane Liam and Milo shared a divan. Milo’s arm never left Liam’s waist. Here in the limousine, Liam sat between Milo’s legs, leaning back against his chest. Milo’s arms snaked around Liam, pulling him close. They exchanged whispers and kisses. Milo’s open displays of affection for Liam floored Sam.

  Milo’s phobia about sissy-like behavior continued even after he admitted he loved Liam and fucked him exclusively. Sam thought that would change when Milo’s old man died. Milo got worse instead of better, and Sam felt that Milo’s paranoia in part led to the debacle. Now that Sam knew that Bart and his brother fed Milo’s paranoia, Sam had no idea how he could ever make it up to Milo.

  “Hey, you two,” Sam said. “I hate to interrupt the party, but I need to tell you guys a few things before you see Rick.”

  “Sure, Sam. Shoot,” Milo answered.

  “This is hard for me. Very, very hard.” Sam swallowed.

  “You don’t have to tell us anything that makes you uncomfortable,” Liam said. “Or if you just want to talk to Milo, I understand. I’ll get the driver to stop, and I’ll run in for some soda, so you guys have a chance to—”

  “Please stay, Liam. Well, like you said, Milo, no more lies for any of us. Rick’s been diagnosed with hepatitis C. He’s doing as well as can be expected. He’s ineligible to take the antiviral drugs that could have bought him more time because he was still using. Now, there’s considerable liver damage. We’re talking in months, not years. He wanted to be on stage one more
time so he can go with some dignity.”

  “Fuck.” The word came out simultaneously from both Liam and Milo.

  “Does he know he’s terminal?” Liam asked softly.

  “Yes, he knows. He doesn’t think you could forgive him. He doesn’t know about the tour or my machinations to shame you guys into helping me. You are already aware of how horrible I feel now that I know the truth. Rick won’t be expecting your generosity of spirit. I think he’s going to be a bit overwhelmed.”

  “Don’t worry.” Milo moved across to his bench seat and gave him a bear hug. “We’ll be there for both of you, no matter what.”

  “I hope Bart rots in hell for this,” Liam said through clenched teeth. “He is responsible for my Dad, Lily, Milo and I splitting up—anything rotten that happened to any of us, Hedge stood behind it.”

  “We all carry our share of remorse here,” Sam said. “Our only recourse is to do the best we can for the rest of the time we have, both with Rick and with each other. I don’t remember who said it, but living well is still the best revenge. We’re approaching the gate.” Sam stiffened his spine and put on a smile.

  Liam and Milo did their best to do the same.

  * * * *

  Redbrook looked like any other of the many large farmhouses in the township. Although the outbuildings looked newer, they didn’t seem out of place in their surroundings. Horses grazed in the meadow on what little grass remained in early March. They had been turned out from the barns at the end of the field. Men in heavy winter clothing chopped wood. Liam looked up and saw that at least six chimneys were on top of the three-story home. Six chimneys must eat lots of wood, he mused.

  As they came down the long drive, other men exercised the horses in a second field that sported a training oval. Liam heard the cacophony of barks as they pulled up to the house and rightly assumed that they kept dogs as well as horses. Their party came up the steps, and the director of the facility greeted them. As he spoke to Sam and Milo, Liam looked around the huge reception area. At least three cats draped themselves around the room as if they owned the joint.

  Liam realized that Redbrook’s matrix of therapy included using companion animals to give the residents a sense of responsibility. Sam would be taking an animal home with him, along with Rick. That wouldn’t go over too well in Sam’s New York apartment. The idea of the Rumson house in early March held no appeal to Liam, and he thought of the bright healing sun and fresh mountain air of Milo’s New Mexican retreat. In a matter of days, it had become home. He stepped up next to Milo to hear the rest of what the director said.

  Rick’s prognosis remained poor. The concert tour would be abbreviated, they knew that for certain. Liam decided he would speak to Sam. They didn’t need confrontation on this tour. He wanted to play at most three or four cities, and they should to be known as gay-friendly. Liam didn’t want this tour to be sullied for any of them.

  He pulled Milo aside and grabbed Sam before they could follow the director to see Rick. “I propose a change in plan. The jet’s still available, right?”

  “Yes,” answered Sam, albeit with caution.

  “Let’s take Rick back to the mountains, Milo. The sunshine and fresh air would have to be better for him than Jersey’s March damp and dank. J.B. has already set up an excellent security system there, and Joe can get Rick’s story. I think with our permission, Joe could get a book deal. It doesn’t have to be a tell-all to sell books. In our case, the truth will do. It would be of some consolation to gay teens and serve as a caution to kids tempted to do drugs. Even as a love story, it would sell. True love wins in the end, that much advance publicity might keep Bart away from us.”

  “What do you think, Sam? Are you up for your third bi-coastal trip in five days?”

  “As long as we’re not flying commercial, smartass, I’m up for anything,” Sam replied.

  “Then call the guys. We’ll pick them up in Rumson and stop at Liam’s so he can get some clothes. You do have more clothes, don’t you, baby?” Milo teased.

  Liam smiled back at Milo. “Honey, I never liked shopping like you did. I loved clothes, just hated the hassle of the stores. I haven’t bought anything in a store since we split. I bought my jeans online and T-shirts in airports when I found one I liked while waiting for a plane. Any clothes I have are in my duffle. What’s left never got unpacked since it arrived from the Rumson house. I couldn’t face it.”

  “Shit, Liam, now he’ll want to go to the mall. Security will be a nightmare,” grumbled Sam.

  “No, Sam,” answered Milo. “We won’t go shopping until we get home. Baby’s going to get some cowboy gear.”

  Liam’s mouth dropped open and he sputtered in protest.

  “Pipe down, Liam,” Sam said. “You’re going to wear what he wants you to wear anyway, because if it is important to him it is to you, so just go with the program. Besides, I see Rick coming down the stairs. Don’t look too shocked.”

  Liam looked up. The man coming down the stairs seemed to walk in slow motion. His swollen belly hung over his belt, and his skin…His skin was dark piss-yellow, dry, flaky, an irritated red from where he’d constantly scratched. Behind Rick followed a lively, gorgeously groomed Irish setter pup.

  Sam walked up to his brother and embraced him. Milo and Liam followed, each hugging Rick in turn. Rick shrank away at the sight of them.

  “I never expected to see you guys here,” Rick said. “After all I did to you, I figured you’d sooner shit on me than come to see me.”

  Liam answered for both Milo and himself. “Hush. We’ve come to take you home. Milo has this neat new house with a complete suite for each of us. It’ll be like old times.” Liam bent down next to the pup with the huge paws and caressed her shiny red coat. “Rick, you need to be reminded of your manners. You haven’t introduced us to this lovely lady.”

  Rick almost managed a smile. “This is my baby, Kathleen. She’s a pure bred Irish setter. Part of the program here at Redbrook House is to give recovering addicts responsibility for something other than themselves. When Sam found out that all the dogs were labs, spaniels, or golden retrievers, he went out and bought me an Irish setter. He knew I always wanted one.” Rick slowly knelt on one knee and hugged his canine beauty.

  “Jeez, Rick, if you wanted a dog, why didn’t you get yourself one?” Liam asked.

  “Because I couldn’t take adequate care of myself as an addict, and I would have badly neglected an animal. It would have been cruelty. I’ve had enough of that in my life already.”

  Milo, unable to ignore Rick’s self-criticism, stepped in. “Rick, we all made mistakes; big ones. And we all paid the price for our arrogance and foolishness. All that has to be put behind us now. We are brothers, brothers of the heart, just as we pledged almost twenty years ago. It’s time for us to pull together and take care of each other and punish the person responsible for attempting to tear us apart. We’re going home to New Mexico. You, Sam, Liam and I, and two others you’ll meet later.”

  “Are you and Liam sure you want me along?”

  “We’re sure,” answered Sam. “Bart took apart all of our psyches and knew just what buttons to push. J.B. has a report. Bart had it in for Liam all along. His mom was Frank’s girlfriend before Frank met Lily.”

  “Oh my God, Liam, even drugged I suspected there was a reason why he wanted so much information about you and Milo.” Rick hugged Liam and sobbed uncontrollably.

  Milo guided him over to one of the seating areas inhabited by the cats. He kissed Rick gently on the forehead and said, “Mi casa es su casa.”

  “He said,” Liam added, “My house is your house.”

  “Milo, I know that you probably feel like you have to have me as a guest for Sam’s sake. You don’t. Sam has no idea of the full extent of the unhappiness I caused the two of you. If he did, he wouldn’t ask you to put me up.”

  * * * *

  Milo spotted a small conversational grouping of furniture off in the corner of the big room. There
were four chairs and a few end tables. “Would you two mind getting us some drinks? I want to speak to Rick alone for a minute.”

  With the other men off to their assigned task, Milo sat Rick in a chair opposite his. Rick began to speak, but Milo held up his hand. “Not another word. Not until you let me have my say. You can try to hog the blame for what happened to Shattered Glass and our friendship, but no matter how hard you try, you can’t take all the credit or the blame. I’ll give you the short version. One, I chose to believe Bart instead of Liam.”

  Milo used his fingers to tick off his points. “Two, I didn’t listen to Liam when he told me Bart dealt drugs. Three, if I hadn’t been hiding so far in the closet that I couldn’t tell if it snowed or rained, Liam wouldn’t have been so needy. And those are just a few of the things I did. Bart Hedge wasn’t who or what he said. Yet none of us so-called responsible adults, did more than a cursory check on his background and credentials, thus putting Liam in terrible danger. There’s more than enough blame to go around this table multiple times. We need to heal, together. Can you do that?”

  “I can do that.” Rick smiled, and a heavy burden seemed to lift from his shoulders. “I’m long overdue for some forgiveness. May Kathleen and Mort come along?”

  “I’ve been introduced to the lovely Kathleen, but who is Mort?”

  He pointed to a nurse bringing a cat carrier down the stairs. Inside lay a solid grey alley cat with green eyes. “I adopted him. He keeps Kathy company.”

  “The more the merrier. I know Liam will lobby for kittens soon anyway.”

  “About the kittens—”

  “I don’t want to know, and please don’t tell Liam. He’s just started to smile again. We all have our burdens to carry. Let that one be yours.”

  Chapter 22

  Sam and Liam came back with coffee and some juice for Rick. “Time’s wasting,” Milo announced. “We have to get a move on.”

  “Milo,” Liam said, his voice laced with exasperation, “you asked for drinks.”

  “We’ll have it on the road to Rumson.”

 

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