In the name of the Father

Chapter 4 - Touchdown

Chapter 4 – Touchdown

I knew it wasn’t going to be a good morning. This I considered the minute I heard Gerard’s panic-stricken voice over the phone. He told his story in a rattled and frazzled tone that did nothing to lessen the severity of his report. I could almost feel how thick his anxiety was as he spoke profusely into my left ear. His voice sounded strained, like a bloody hyena that got caught in a bear trap in the woods. His shocking narrative bled disconcerting images in my mind’s eye.

I sighed heavily, putting all the weight into that one breath to calm me down. I took my right hand away from Gray’s smooth back to pinch the bridge of my nose. I was nodding into the phone without saying anything. For a moment I thought of talking over Gerard to yank his consciousness away from panic and gear him to actually focus. I parked that thought because it would be an exercise in futility. He wouldn’t be able to absorb anything I’d say anyway for it seemed like he was in the thick of things when the event happened. Oh Gerard, so inexperienced.

Today was going to be all kinds of bad – from accurately reporting the number of casualties, deploying bomb-sniffing canine units, all the way to doing a clean sweep of every nook and cranny around the perimeter of the White House. It was a call of duty that I needed to respond to.

The sight of Gray sleeping soundly on his chest by my side somehow helped calm the dismay that had hit me like a freight train. This new piece of old news would have seemed lighter if it was the fourth of July, but it wasn’t. In my mind’s eye I could already see the news all over this bomb scare. Actually it wasn’t just a scare, a bomb actually went off with a reported magnitude that was strong enough to cause several wounded personnel. Jesus Christ. The number of times I had to answer to the President outnumbered the instances this had happened in my twenty-five years of service. It appeared as if my recurring presence would solve the matter, yet it almost always doesn’t. I guess that was my duty – run a broom around the place when the dust settled.

Gray stirred to consciousness, feeling the warmth of my arms leave the embrace that he’d become so fond of for the past two months, “Jeanne…” was how he started his morning and it made all my worries dissipate into a quiet dot. If he only knew how he affected me. Everything that bore weight on my shoulders melted the minute those gray eyes looked back at mine. I felt his concern for me, his fears, the purity of his intentions, and most importantly the love in his heart. It was all coming together in this one singular moment where we saw eye to eye. I love him.

“Hey, baby…” I leaned over to kiss his half-lidded eyes, “Something happened, and I’m badly needed,” was how I compressed the call I took for I didn’t want him bothered by what I considered a trivial matter. The situation felt infinitesimal as I looked into those gray eyes of his. My heart pounded in my chest and it pumped surging blood that spiked turbulently throughout my entire body. I needed no Viagra. The sight of Gray alone could make me detonate on the spot. He was that strong. The wayward thought made me smirk involuntarily. He mirrored my expression.

I stifled the words at the back of my throat and instead replaced it with a gasp. I was about to suggest a quickie, but I kept my libido at bay for there were more pressing matters to attend to this morning.

“Gray, duty calls … I’ll tell you all about it when I get back.”

“Jeanne…” his gaze was mesmeric, “Please be careful, okay?”

I took his hand and planted a soft kiss between the knuckles. I then realized how much was riding on my shoulders. I had the trust of a country that I’d known all my life, and the faith of a man who I just met months ago, yet I considered to be the love that would last me for a lifetime.

I knew it wasn’t going to be a good morning the day after the bombing. This I considered the minute Jeanne held the phone to his ear with an expression that could only be described as irritated. He was a man of power who prided himself with tactical expertise. The slightest incredulity awarded to him by peers felt like a spit to his twenty-five years of excellent service.

“I demand to be spoken to with at least a modicum of respect,” he shouted into the phone while his right hand squeezed mine. I squeezed back so he could feel my presence, allowing his blood to circulate and relax. I was worried for his heart. All this stress was putting unnecessary weight on his shoulders. I looked and searched his face as it formed lines along the sinews. He looked handsome despite the temper. My free hand smoothed a crinkle on my shirt as I sat quietly beside him on a rather expensive Italian couch. This piece of furniture caught his fancy when we were at an auction not a week ago. It had gold details against opulent Victorian Rose upholstery. The overall design could only be described as luxurious … and extremely costly. It was tasteful. No doubt about it.

Jeanne ended the call then looked straight into my eyes. And before I could ask how his call went, his tongue was already searching for mine. I fell on my back in the couch as his hands went to explore my body. We were bathed in several layers of clothing yet I felt naked as his heart drummed against my chest. My heart responded with the same fervor as it thundered beneath my ribcage. What did Jeanne see in me? I still couldn’t understand how I affected him.

“Oh Gray … you are my light in this dark and dismal world,” he spoke against my mouth as if his lips were able to taste the thoughts that were cooking in my mind. He always had this uncanny ability to answer questions I kept inside. How he does so I didn’t know or understand. All I knew was we were kindred spirits whose lust for one another spawned a sinful kind of love.

He pulled back and licked his lips, savoring the taste of mine in his mouth. Jeanne wrapped around me like a vine as we sank back comfortably in the expensive Italian sofa. We sat in shared silence. A kind of hush that he soon broke with the question, “Do you fancy my son?”

My eyes grew wide, and with a flicker of annoyance I answered saying, “I ask for your trust.”

“It doesn’t answer the question, Gray. Do you or do you not fancy my son?” he restated with an undercurrent of jealousy in his tone. Suspicion was carefully masked behind those sultry blue eyes. My stomach did a freefall as my thoughts imploded inside my head. What was I to say?

I sagged against him feeling hurt. What was he saying? I cupped his doleful face in my hands, and then looked him strongly in the eyes and said, “I only have my eyes for you Jeanne, okay?”

His face fell in my hands. I felt his breathing slow against the skin of my palms. He was giving my words some thought. My heart was skipping violently in my chest. I didn’t know what brought this feeling of mistrust between us. If anything I was devoted to him. Loyal to the bone.

He noticed the mounting concern in my teary eyes, so he let go of his misgivings, “I’m sorry Gray. I’m really sorry … I love you,” were the words his heart spoke. My own heart sank as his mouth mashed mine with love and possession. Oh Jeanne, I love you too. So much it hurts.

I knew it wasn’t going to be a good morning because father was here to watch my game. The only reason he’d be here was because Gray wanted to watch me play. Dad sponsored my posse since college days for it was the same football team he played in during his time. If there was something father and I shared, it was athleticism. We were both potent animals who enjoyed good sport. This game wasn’t anything major nor would it serve as a fund-raiser of some sort. It was only a simple get-together as my group passed on the torch and honor to those younger.

The game stretched for a couple hours with us winning the game in the end. I made several touchdowns for my team. I felt like a proud bastard as the younger ones coughed after my dust. I still had it in me. I might be an architect by profession but I was still a quarterback at heart.

Gray smiled from ear to ear as he raised the ball I threw him. He blushed like a pinched cheek when he failed to catch it the first time. He wasn’t a sporty kind of guy. I noticed this for he would query dad every now and then as the ball was being passed from left field to right. He would ask how my team was faring in the playoff. I found his lack of knowledge endearing.

My body was drenched in sweat so I pulled my shirt up. I took the fabric to my body and started rubbing myself hard. I thought for a second that I saw Gray blush crimson. He was quick to turn away when I looked at him. It was cute. I found his innocence adorable so I called his name. He shriveled at the attention so I shouted louder. He nervously tore his gaze from the distance to spot me from the bleachers. I gave him a thumbs-up from where I was. He returned a shy yet heartwarming smile which tugged at my heartstrings. I felt my soul wash with purity and kindness at the sight of him genuinely happy. I too was in high spirits for him.

At that moment I understood why father loved him. His innocence was charming, and his optimism about life helped him find joy in things that I considered nothing new. He waved at me like he was my proud mother. I waved back in triumph, raising my shirt up. I didn’t know what was happening, but it seemed like Gray didn’t just catch my ball. He also captured my heart.