An Unexpected Gift

by Brandon Carlisle

  Sebastian dropped the game system off at the center and then went to work. When he came home, I could see he was exhausted, and I could also tell he was down. Andy and I had prepared dinner as a surprise. I let Marguerite know this afternoon I needed to leave early and stopped to pick up jumbo shrimp and fettuccine noodles for shrimp scampi. That picked up his mood just the tiniest bit. Over dinner I found out I was now an officer of the foundation and that he had arranged, after several persuasive phone calls, for our friends to be officers, as well.

  The big mood killer for him was the frustration about the main issue causing a delay regarding the clinic. Until we purchased or leased a building, had the inspection and paperwork for permits, we could not even consider a tentative date for an opening. Then there were renovations, and more inspections and approvals for use before we could open. Sebastian was not known for his patience when he wanted to accomplish something and that was where I came in. He would moan, sulk, and get moody, but in the end, he would relent to forces beyond his control.

  After dinner, we talked him into a game of Monopoly, and Andy even let him win by a small margin. Sebastian knew it and thanked him for it.

  We had given Andy a one-day reprieve to recover from the party. The tutor was to start on Tuesday. We had given up our home office, so while all the other drama unfolded on Monday, Andy settled into his new den where he could take his lessons, study, and have some privacy.

  It was a rough start for Andy, not having had much structure in his life since his arrival in the city, but Felicia was great at easing him into a routine. Best of all was how Andy took to his studies. Sebastian was usually home before me, and when I arrived home Andy would be in his den studying until it was dinner time.

  A month after starting, Felicia told us Andy should have no difficulty transitioning to the tenth grade. He was bright, ambitious, and taking to his studies easily. Much of what they had begun ended up being only a refresher as he had covered it already. She also noted that the environment we provided for him helped a great deal in the adjustment to his new life. During dinner shared the first part of our conversation with Andy, and I could see he was pleased, but the excitement I expected was lacking. "I thought you would be more excited about being able to start Lowell High School in the tenth grade?"

  Sebastian was watching Andy, as confused by his reaction as I was. "This is great news, Andy. You won't have to do any catching up when you start."

  "Well." He seemed hesitant to say anything. "All the book learning is great, but what am I going to do with it if I want to be like Abby?"

  Now I didn't know what to say and demurred to Sebastian. "Andy, being an artist is not just about painting. It's important to be well rounded in your education. If you don't know about math, science, or history, how will you be able to develop ideas for your work. How would you be able to research and make sure what you are portraying is authentic, or conveying your ideas to others?"

  The poor kid seemed lost, but Sebastian wasn't finished.

  Taking a sip of wine, he paused for thought. Suddenly his hand went up and he snapped his fingers. "Remember how Abby was talking about painting you in the style of Caravaggio? If you didn't study about the great masters, how would you know the style or inspiration for his work?" Andy looked at Sebastian quizzically. "Why don't you talk to Abby about it?"

  "That's a great idea. She was a teacher, and she is an artist. She could answer your questions better than us." I chimed in. Andy nodded and continued eating.

  Abby had been telling us how well he was doing in his painting so I decided it was time to ask the question on our minds. "Now that that is settled, can I ask you a favor?" As much as he talked about drawing and art, we still hadn't seen any of his recent work. "Could we see some of what you have been doing?"

  Andy paused, worrying his lower lip.

  "Please, Andy." Sebastian was ready to beg, and so was I. Abby kept raving about his talent but we hadn't a clue.

  He put down his fork and rolled his eyes. "All right." He ran to his room and brought out a folio. "It's only some drawings in charcoal and colored pencils. I ain't, I mean I'm not that good yet. Abby keeps telling me not to use ain't. Anyway, she told me I have a good eye." He handed them to me and returned to his seat, watching.

  Sebastian slid his chair next to mine, the dinner all but forgotten. When I opened the folio, the first thing we saw was a charcoal sketch of a young man lying on a blanket reading. Not having any real knowledge of art I can still see the quality of his work. "Who's the model?"

  "That was a guy at Buena Vista park. Abby saw him reading and asked if we could draw him."

  "This piece is exceptional, Andy." Sebastian squeezed my shoulder. "Isaac, our boy has talent."

  The next one was a shock. It was Sebastian and me sitting in our back yard. I looked over at the fireplace mantel in the living room. Andy's drawing was a copy of the photograph Abby had taken when I moved in. "You did this from the photo?" It was a simple pencil sketch in color, but the detail was amazing. Sebastian gave me a slight nod. He captured the moment beautifully.

  Taking the drawing from my hand, Sebastian studied it for a moment. "There is a lot of feeling in this drawing, Andy. You have a real gift."

  I reached for Sebastian's hand on my shoulder. "We're very proud of you, Andy." I pointed to the drawings. "This is what you want to do with your life?"

  He looked at us and then stared at the table as his shoulders slumped. "Yeah, but I can't make a living from it."

  Sebastian patted my shoulder and went to Andy, kneeling by his chair. "We don't want you to worry about that. When it comes time to start your career as an artist Isaac and I will be your patrons." He looked at Sebastian with confusion.

  "My what?"

  "Andy, a patron is someone who sponsors an artist. They support the artist while he establishes himself in his career." Sebastian gave me an approving wink.

  "But… I can't live off you guys forever!"

  Sebastian let out a laugh. "Andy! We want to see you become an artist. We also want to be a part of it in any way we can. Let us do this for you. Abby says you have the talent to be a professional, and from what we saw, I know she is right. But that doesn't mean you can shirk your studies. Talk to her about why she thinks it is important to have a good education. Remember, she was also a teacher." He nodded. "Now let's finish our dinner."

  *****

  Much to my and Sebastian's gratitude, Abby convinced Andy of the importance in finishing high school. She explained how he could continue on to an art school after graduation if he wanted to. If Andy wanted to study other mediums that Abby was not familiar with, she had contacts with several schools she could recommend and many artist friends. Andy continued to apply himself in his studies, and dove more into learning as much as he could from Abby. He also became a voracious reader. We got him a library card, and he was constantly checking out books on various artists and styles of art. He appeared to focus on impressionists and expressionists, although he seemed to read anything he could find on art.

  We headed into fall having settled into a relaxing routine. Andy continued to blossom, and when he wasn't studying, he joined in on all our excursions to the parks, beach, wherever our inspiration drove us. It was a Saturday afternoon in late September and the four of us were gathered in the back yard enjoying chilled wine and fresh watermelon, except for Andy who was having lemonade. Abby brought up the idea of Andy accompanying her to Carmel by the Sea. There was a famous cypress tree she wanted to paint and a few sights she wanted to visit. It was a long drive and Abby suggested an overnight stay.

  "Can I guys?" Andy was almost bouncing in his seat.

  Sebastian came up with the suggestion they stay at the La Playa Carmel. Abby once mused about how she and her late husband took their honeymoon there, and how many artists were in residence in the small community.

  Putting her hands to our cheeks she smiled. I could have sworn I saw tears forming in her eyes. "Dear boys, there
is no need to go to all that trouble. Besides, I'm sure it has changed so much since Albert and I were there."

  Sebastian's voice cracked as he spoke. This woman was more than a friend. She was like a mother to us. "Abby… Abby, please let us do this. You've done so much for us, and Andy. Maybe it will help inspire you, or bring back warm memories. Please, let us do this for you." Sebastian pulled out his puppy expression and Abby gave in.

  When Abby and Andy left to go up to Abby's flat, Sebastian leaned in using a low and suggestive voice. "It will be our first time alone in this house for a night. We could be as loud as we want!"

  Since Andy moved in, we had to watch how loud our lovemaking was… well, Sebastian's vocal outbursts. Between having to watch the noise, and restricting ourselves to the bedroom, our sex life was a lot less frequent that it used to be.

  I couldn't hide my grin. "In other words, we lock the doors, take the phone off the hook and leave the outside world to fend for itself."

  Finishing our wine, we headed into the house, dumping the watermelon rinds in the garbage. I swept Sebastian in my arms and nuzzled his neck feeling myself harden as I held him close, breathing in his scent. As I reached for the button to his pants, the phone rang. "Ignore it."

  Sebastian groaned. "I can't. I'm on call because they are rotating an exhibit in my wing at the museum."

  Making his way to the phone on the wall, I swatted his ass. When he answered, his expression dropped as he covered the receiver and pointed at me. "It's Jason."

  Grabbing the phone, I leaned against the wall. Since Andy had come into our lives, and the increase in discrimination cases at the legal clinic, Sebastian and I had backed off in our involvement in Harvey Milk's campaign. Even though it had tapered off, I was still busy with active cases. "Hi Jason."

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Ordinary Days

  Sebastian

  Jason’s call reminded us that there was still work to be done. Though Harvey was considered a favorite, he still had competition. Jason wanted us to take part in the door-to-door campaigning in our neighborhood the month before the election. We had made a commitment to help, but it was before we had a new member in our family. Isaac and I agreed we needed to sit down with Andy and discuss it. It would mean spending a lot of our free time campaigning, and it was only fair to include him in the decision.

  When Andy came downstairs from Abby's, he barreled in the front door brimming with excitement. He skidded to a stop when he saw us on the sofa. “It’s so cool!” He paced the living room like a little dynamo, running his fingers through his flaming red hair. “You know… you be can more detailed with oils than watercolors. She also showed me how there is much more opportunity in giving depth and expression. I mean, I’ve seen it, but she’s shown me how to do the effects. It’s awesome!”

  I tried to hide my smirk, but when I saw Isaac’s face, we both broke out in laughter. Andy looked at us horrified, and I knew he didn’t understand.

  “Andy. Understand that we aren’t laughing at you. We've seen you excited working with Abby, but never this much. We think it’s great.”

  His face flushed all the way to the tips of his ears. “I bet I sound like a spaz.”

  Isaac chuckled at the remark. “No. You sound excited. Now sit down and tell us all about it.”

  Andy went on about the still life they worked on today. It was a vase of fresh-cut flowers from the back yard. “Tomorrow will be something special.” He turned beet red at the comment. “A friend of hers is coming over and will sit for us. He’s going to be nude.”

  I turned to Isaac, my expression must have been priceless because he broke into a grin and laughed. “Ignore Sebby… Sebastian, I think that is great.”

  It was the first time Isaac used that term of endearment in front of Andy and he grinned. “Sebby?”

  “I… ummm… yes, Sebby. It's a term of affection Isaac uses when we are alone.” My cheeks felt hot.

  Isaac pulled me into a hug, kissed my cheek and then turned back to Andy. “Now you know one of our secrets.” He winked. “What do you think about painting a nude model?”

  “It’s kind of weird, but she said I was so good in my drawing of the guy in the park that she wanted to try something different. Abby went on about technique and stuff, but from what I understood, she told me it would help with my lighting and shadows, and help me learn more definition. She said not to worry about quality at this point as I was just beginning. It was more important to observe my technique and see where I needed work.”

  “What about your modeling for her?” We hadn’t heard a thing about it for quite a while.

  “Oh.” Andy shrugged his shoulders. “Abby wants to wait until the weather changes, since it would be indoors. She figured when it rains, we can do it. She still wants me to put on some weight, but as she reminded me, not too much.”

  Isaac chuckled at the suggestion. “It’s up to you, kid. If you want to stay the way you are, I think it will be fine with her.”

  Now it was my turn. “Andy, would you like to set up something in your room or the study to practice when you aren’t with Abby?”

  There was a glimmer of hope in his expression before it turned to disappointment. “How? The rooms aren’t that big.”

  Isaac patted my leg and winked. “I think we can fix that. Why don’t you use the dining room for your studies with the tutor? We can move furniture out of the study and you can have an easel in there. The light from that room is better, and it overlooks the front garden. Maybe it will help with your inspiration.”

  “Awesome!” Andy launched himself at Isaac and the next thing we were all in a schmaltzy group hug. I wouldn’t have changed it for the world.

  When we sat down to dinner, we approached Andy about our volunteering with the Harvey Milk campaign. Andy was on board with the idea. He even offered to help in handing out leaflets, and knocking on doors, as long as we were nearby. The shadow of what happened to him still loomed overhead.

  *****

  The next morning after Andy left for Abby's we went to work on rearranging the den. His desk would have to go to make room for what he needed. We could place it in the storeroom downstairs. We’d keep the file cabinet for all our important papers in our closet. I made a list as we surveyed the den. He would need a small drawing table, an easel, a stool, and then we would talk to Abby about what brushes, paints, and any other supplies he might need. Our life with Andy was much more than we expected, and he was showing more promise than we ever imagined.

  When Andy returned later that afternoon, he was rather quiet. I asked him about his session with Abby and he shrugged his shoulders, “It was okay.” Before going to his room.

  Isaac had been out in the yard picking flowers for the dinner table, and I cornered him when he came in the kitchen about how Andy seemed off when he returned from Abby’s. “Let me talk to him.” He kissed my cheek before putting the flowers in a vase and then went to find out what the mystery was about.

  When he returned, he had a shit-eating grin on his face. “Sit.” He motioned to the kitchen table. “You won't believe it.”

  He explained that the model was an older man, and seeing him nude was embarrassing because the guy was old, or as Andy put it, “saggy and wrinkled”. He had a hard time concentrating, and Abby pulled him aside and explained that he is a subject for art, and to look at him objectively. Andy was mortified at being reprimanded, and was embarrassed at the way he behaved.

  *****

  Andy was engrossed in his oils, and studies with Felicia. I was planning a new exhibit at the museum, while things had settled down for Isaac at the clinic. The discrimination and housing disputes had settled to a low roar, and we began canvassing for Harvey on the weekends and sometimes after work.

  Even without the backing of influential gay power brokers in the city like Jim Foster, Harvey was building momentum. Isaac and I walked the Castro and Haight with Harvey as he greeted and shook hands with the local citizens. He was down to e
arth, and took an interest in the neighborhood problems, and these traits and skills worked to his advantage. Though there was still a conservative presence in the Castro, his base grew wider.

  I watched as Harvey was able to connect with such a diverse group of people. He would get manic on occasion about issues he found important, or when a constituent spoke of how the city was ignoring a problem in their neighborhood.

  October 7th was fast approaching and my ever-patient honey and I were looking forward to Abby and Andy’s Carmel trip. It would be a long and fabulous weekend where we planned to make noisy love and laze around the house naked. They would leave on Friday and return on Sunday, making it two nights, and we planned to take that Friday off of work. Isaac said he had plans for our first night, and to leave the evening open.

  *****

  Friday arrived, and we sent them on their way. Like an idiot, I began to pick up the house and Isaac stopped me.

  "Leave it. This is our day. I have plans for tonight but right now let's get out and have fun."

  I loved this man. "What kind of fun do you have in mind? We don't have to leave the house to have fun."

  "You'll see." He winked and slapped me on the ass. "Let's get dressed. You can't go out in your sleep pants and slippers. Make sure you bring a jacket. I hear it can get cold."

  Once we dressed, we climbed into Betty and headed out to his mysterious destination for some fun. The weather was warm, and the windows were down as we drove up Divisadero Street and took a right on Geary towards downtown.

  "Where are we going?"

  Isaac grinned and patted my leg before shifting gears again. "The first time we were at Leland and Ryan's house we stood out on the deck off their bedroom in Lower Russian Hill and admired how beautiful the bay was. Do you remember what you said after that?"

  "Ummm… not really." For the life of me I had no idea what he was talking about. Taking a left on Polk he headed towards Fisherman's Wharf and it dawned on me. "Are we going on the bay? We're taking a Red and White cruise!"