My Father's Lover

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My Father's Lover Page 4

by D. J. Manly


  “He never found a replacement. I was Daniel’s son really, only Michael’s by default.”

  “Why did Daniel adopt you?”

  “He always wanted a son, I guess.”

  Michael sighed. “Well, I think I’ll go to bed. I’ve booked a flight out already for tomorrow night. Do you think someone could take me to the airport?”

  “I’ll take you.”

  “Thank you. I don’t know if I could stand going with that Juan fellow again.”

  Anthony smirked. “It was an exaggeration. He’s a good guy.”

  “A little joke at my expense, I realised that,” he said, standing up. “Goodnight, Anthony.”

  “Goodnight, Michael.”

  “Mike, okay?”

  “Goodnight, Mike.” Anthony felt a momentary sense of sadness for him. He closed his eyes and imagined Michael being reunited with Daniel tonight. It gave him comfort, and he fell asleep.

  * * * * *

  Sandy called Anthony around ten the next morning to find out how he was doing. “Fine. I spoke with Mike last night, and we’ve established an uneasy peace.”

  “Mike?”

  “It’s what he wants me to call him. Jason came home around six this morning. He looked like hell. He’s taking it hard.”

  “Are you worried about today?”

  “Not worried, but a little anxious. I don’t care if Michael left everything to his kid, but I don’t want to see Impressions disappear.”

  “Michael was smarter than that.”

  “Yeah, well, I hope so. Look, I got to go, Mike is coming down and I should offer him some breakfast.”

  “I’ll call you soon. Love you, Anthony, and we’ll talk.”

  “Yeah, okay,” Anthony said, and hung up. That was one talk he could wait for.

  * * * * *

  Michael couldn’t believe that Anthony made him breakfast. Obviously the guy had to realise that he was about to lose everything. Surely, in compensation for abandoning his only son, Michael had left him the majority of what he had. Of course he might have left Anthony a little something, and even if he didn’t, he was willing to give him a little something to remember his father by. It was only right.

  They left shortly after breakfast, Anthony telling him that it took some time to get to the lawyer’s office. There was a lot of traffic, and as it turned out, they made it there with only ten minutes to spare.

  Hubert Collins came out to greet them. Michael was a little surprised to see how friendly Anthony was with his father’s lawyer. “Anthony, I was so sorry to hear about Michael. Any leads in the case yet? I hope they catch the little bastards.”

  “Nothing yet. Hubert, this is Michael Fulton…”

  “Donaldson, I go by Donaldson. I’m Michael’s son.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Donaldson. You resemble your father a lot. Come into to my office. I was your father’s lawyer…well, the family lawyer really.” He smiled at Anthony. “I signed the final papers for Daniel when he adopted Anthony.”

  “I see,” Michael said. So, it was true. His father’s lover had legally adopted him.

  “Well, I’m going to try to explain this, the best I can. It’s a little unorthodox.”

  “In plain language,” Michael requested.

  He smiled. “All right, when Daniel died, everything went to Michael as you know, Anthony, but there were conditions set forth so that when Michael died, a share of Daniel’s assets went to you. You did know this?”

  “Yes,” he said.

  “Well, that hasn’t changed. Michael didn’t touch Daniel’s money. He reinvested it for you, so we can talk about that later in private if you’d like, since it has nothing to do with Michael’s assets.”

  “Of course.”

  “Now, there is the matter of the house, which of course, Anthony, goes to you, but Michael and Jason have a right to reside in that house for as long as they choose.”

  Anthony nodded.

  Michael shifted a bit in his seat. It appeared that his father wasn’t going to try and make up for his negligence. “Excuse me,” Michael said. “I am his biological son. Doesn’t that count for…?”

  “A will is a will,” Mr. Collins said. “Blood has no bearing. Your father could have left everything to a cat, and that would have been legally binding if it was properly done.”

  “Wonderful,” Michael sneered.

  “Can we move on?” Anthony said.

  “Okay, in the matter of the club. Anthony, he has left you with fifty-one percent interest, and Mr. Donaldson, you now own forty-nine percent.”

  “What in hell good is that?” Michael barked.

  Both Anthony and Mr. Collins looked at him.

  “Do you have any idea how much that club is worth?” Mr Collins asked.

  “Then we’ll sell it,” Michael said, looking at Anthony.

  “Over my dead body.” Anthony glared at him.

  “Well, then so be it.” Michael threw back.

  Anthony snarled something at him under his breath.

  “Please, gentlemen. Mr. Donaldson, you cannot sell the club unless both parties agree. And there’s more.

  “The both of you must agree to actively participate in the managing of the club, or your share is forfeited to the other. There is a time…”

  “Explain,” Michael demanded, cutting him off, as Anthony narrowed his eyes.

  “If you don’t stay and help manage the club with Anthony, he gets your share.”

  “That’s not right,” Michael said. “I’m held hostage.”

  “It’s the stipulation of the will,” Collins told him.

  “It’s bullshit. That’s what it is.”

  Anthony started to laugh. “It’s ingenious.”

  “Buy me out. I’ll sell you my shares,” Michael said.

  Collins interjected. “A buyout is only possible in two years.”

  “Okay --” Michael sucked in some breath. “-- there must be money. If there’s enough money, I’ll take it and just give him the dump. How much money is there?”

  Mr. Collins thumbed through his papers. “There is a trust fund for Jason Martindale. Anthony, you are trustee of that. He must go through you to get the money until he’s twenty-one.”

  “Other money?” Michael insisted.

  “A trust fund in your name as well.”

  Michael nodded. “Okay.”

  “To be administered by Anthony, since you have not yet reached the age of twenty-one.”

  “What?”

  Anthony started to laugh again.

  Michael threw him a dirty look. “I am an adult. He can’t do this to me.”

  “I’m afraid he did,” Mr. Collins replied. “You may read it if you like here in the will. Of course, you will be paid a salary for managing the club which Anthony will…”

  “Anthony is in charge of everything, it looks like.” He stood up. “I plan to contest this will.”

  “You can, but you won’t win. All profits from the club will go in your trust fund, Mr. Donaldson. If you are patient, in two years you will be a very, very rich young man. I don’t think you realise how much Impressions is really worth.”

  * * * * *

  Michael was so infuriated that he didn’t even stay to hear the end of what the lawyer was saying. He couldn’t stand to look at Anthony any more, sitting there laughing. Him, manage a drag club! My God, what would his friends say? It was totally against everything he stood for. Why in hell had his father done this? It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair at all.

  He took a long walk, finally deciding that he’d better go back to the lawyer’s office to find Anthony because he didn’t know where he was, or how to get back.

  Anthony was waiting outside and he didn’t look happy. “Where in hell have you been? I’ve been waiting here for close to an hour.”

  “I took a walk. Look, this is unacceptable. Are you happy with having to be my goddamned babysitter?”

  “I am not your babysitter. Look, let’s go ho
me and maybe I can explain this to you a little more.”

  “I understand everything perfectly,” Michael muttered, getting into the passenger seat of Anthony’s red corvette.

  “I don’t think you do. I don’t think you realise,” Anthony said, getting into the driver’s seat, “just how rich your father has just made you.”

  Michael sighed. “I don’t think you realise this means I have to move out here. I have to live with you, help run a club that is against everything I stand for, and…”

  “This shit you spout off about, I don’t understand it.” Anthony shook his head. “What in fuck gives you the right to judge everyone else?”

  “Look, you’re gay, right? I mean I don’t know for sure but…”

  “Yes, I’m gay. Your point is?”

  “You’re a very masculine guy. There is nothing effeminate about you.”

  “That’s supposed to be a compliment?”

  “Yes, it is. You don’t have to act girlie to fuck a guy.”

  “And that’s good?” Anthony demanded, screeching to a halt at a red light.

  The car jerked backward, causing Michael to grip the dashboard. “Yes, it’s a good thing because we can still be gay and…”

  “And blend into the crowd? Look, that’s a hang up of yours but it’s not mine. Personally, I don’t give two shits what homophobes think of me, and you shouldn’t either. Female impersonators don’t degrade the gay community. It’s guys like you who degrade the gay community because of your narrow-minded, homophobic bullshit, and fucking macho insecurities. And it’s sexist too. It degrades women.”

  Michael blinked. “Are you calling me homophobic? I’m gay, for Christ’s sake, and proud of it. And I respect women.”

  “You might be gay, but you still can be homophobic, and from where I sit,” Anthony said, roaring back out into traffic again, “you’re certainly not proud of it.”

  “Yes, I am proud.” How dare he say he was ashamed of his sexuality? He was the first to stand up and declare that he was gay.

  “You are intolerant of diversity, and proud of being a gay guy that can pass for straight. That’s what you’re proud of.”

  “You can pass for straight.”

  “It’s not the point.”

  “Why don’t you act more effeminate then, if you’re so gung-ho on diversity?”

  “Why should I be someone I’m not, to please you?”

  “I didn’t say it would please me. I said…anyway, this discussion isn’t getting us anywhere. You’re pig-headed.”

  Anthony glanced at him. “Me?”

  “Yes, you! You just don’t want to see what I’m trying to say, and you should, especially after what happened to my father.”

  Anthony muttered something under his breath, and then abruptly brought the car to a halt at the side of the curb.

  “What? What is this?” Michael said.

  “Don’t make me blacken your other eye.”

  “This time I’ll be ready.” Michael glared at him.

  “Get out.”

  “Get out and go where?”

  “I don’t give a fuck. Just get out. I don’t want to be around you right now.”

  “Fine. I’ll take a cab back to the house, which should belong to me.”

  “Out!”

  Michael opened the door of the car and got out, then slammed it with all his might. He watched as Anthony yanked the car in reverse, did a U-turn in the middle of the road, and took off.

  He saw a small greasy spoon at the corner, so he went in and ordered a cup of coffee. He had to have some time to think about all this. It was a lot, and he wasn’t sure he understood it all. He owned almost half a drag club, and he was obligated to live here and help manage that club if he was going to derive any benefit from it. He couldn’t sell it. The only thing he could do was give it all to Anthony. That wasn’t going to happen. He had a trust fund and he was going to get paid. The downside of that was he was under Anthony’s thumb for the next two years. That was a long time to be around a guy who he clearly didn’t get along with. Michael finished his coffee and hailed a cab, and headed back to the house.

  * * * * *

  “So, is he leaving or what?” Jason asked Anthony when he came through the door.

  Anthony put up a hand, looking weary. “Not now, Jason. Give me a minute or two, then, we’ll talk.”

  “What about the club, this house, will we have to move?” Jason insisted, following him through the house.

  “Jason,” Anthony snapped, rubbing his temples, “I’m tired and I have a headache. Can you please…”

  “I can help,” Jason said quickly, as Anthony went to sit on the sofa. He came around behind him and beginning to rub his temples. “I’m really good at that.”

  “Jason,” Anthony began to protest, but then the sensation of his fingers rubbing his temples began to soothe him, and he closed his eyes. “That’s nice.”

  A few seconds later, he heard a voice say caustically. “Well, isn’t this cosy? Why don’t you guys take over the master bedroom? I’ll take a naked picture of the two of you to hang over the bed.”

  Anthony opened his eyes, and pushed Jason’s hands away. “Give it a rest, Mr. Donaldson, or whatever in hell you call yourself these days. Did you have a nice walk?”

  “I took a cab,” Michael said, looking at Jason. “You must have told him about his trust fund. He seems anxious to earn it.”

  “Trust fund? What trust fund?” Jason asked.

  “I’ll tell you in a minute you in a minute.und? his trust fund.selves to hang over the bed. his temples began to soothe him, and he closed his eyes. Don’t go anywhere because we need to talk.”

  “Should I get out my boxing gloves?”

  Anthony sighed. “No. I don’t want to fight. I want to talk.”

  “Okay, whenever you want. I’m going upstairs. I need to make some phone calls and cancel my flight.”

  “You’re staying?” Jason gasped.

  “Yeah, I am. I can see that you’re not happy about that…thought you could have him all to yourself, did you?”

  Jason turned to Anthony as soon as Michael disappeared. “What’s happening, Anthony?”

  “Sit down, Jason. I’ll tell you all about it.”

  Jason sat down on the sofa across from him. He seemed so young, and right now Anthony felt a hundred years old. “Michael left a trust fund for you. I’m supposed to manage it until you turn twenty-one. If you need money and it’s reasonable, then I’ll get it for you.”

  “Do you mind if I ask how much?”

  “One hundred thousand dollars, and if you leave it there, it will grow quite a bit. We can talk about that.”

  “Wow, I’m stunned.”

  “He loved you.”

  “I loved him,” Jason said, tears in his eyes. “What about the club?”

  “I own it jointly with Michael.”

  “You’re partners?”

  “I have one percent more…gives me a little more power, but not much. We’re obligated to run it together, unless we agree to sell it.”

  “Sell it?”

  “Don’t worry. I won’t sell and he can’t, without my consent.”

  “Do you want to run that club for the rest of your life though, Anthony?”

  “No. If I thought he wouldn’t sell, I’d give him my shares but I know the moment I do that, the club will die. I can’t do that to Michael. So, things will stay the way they have been until I can see a way out. We can’t do anything anyway for two years.”

  “Sandy thought you’d go back on the road with him.”

  “I’d like to, but I can’t, not now.”

  “Well, the nice thing is I’ll have you around.”

  “Yeah, I’m stuck here. Oh, and Jason, you can stay in this house for as long as you want. So don’t think you have to leave.”

  “It might not be pleasant with him here.”

  “Well, we’ll make do. So, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going upstairs to talk
to him now. We have a lot to talk about.”

  “When will Impressions open again?”

  “Next weekend, I think. Why don’t you go and let the other guys know the news?”

  “They’ll be happy that you still own the club.”

  Anthony nodded and headed upstairs.

  When Anthony knocked on the door, Michael told him to come in. He gave him the once over and told him to sit down.

  Anthony took the chair by the door. “This used to be my room when I first came here. I spent a lot of time looking out that window.”

  “Wanting to escape?”

  “Sometimes. I wasn’t used to being in a home where I didn’t have to duck every minute.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

  Anthony shrugged. “Not important. Anyway, if you want to move into Michael’s room, you can. We can redecorate and…”

  “No. Why don’t you take it?”

  Anthony shook his head.

  “Let’s leave it then.”

  “Okay. Look, Michael, I realise that this isn’t a comfortable situation for either of us.”

  “Then why don’t we sell and get it over with? It would solve all our problems and…”

  “You have no idea what that place meant to your father, but I do. I can’t sell it, not unless I can be assured that Impressions will live on. It is Michael’s legacy.”

  “And you want to waste your life managing that club? I heard someone say you were a musician. You were on the road with that Sandy guy, who’s clearly in love with you, by the way.”

  Anthony was silent for a moment. “When Daniel died, Michael needed me.”

  “Michael is dead now.”

  “Yes, but that doesn’t mean that everything about him should die too. Goddamn it all.”

  “You’re angry again.”

  “Yes, I am. I’m angry that Michael had to bleed to death in an alley, and I’m angry that you think he invited that.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You implied it, and there’s something about you…I don’t know what…but…”

  “You have a similar effect on me.”

  “That’s why we have to find a way to make this work, and selling the club wouldn’t solve everything. There is still the matter of your trust fund.”

 

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