Indiscreet Box Set

Chapter 8

Despite his protests, the limousine driver insisted on driving Brian directly to his building. It was only two-thirty in the afternoon, not his usual five-thirty. He saw Miz James through her front window as he mounted the stoop. Brian Murphy hurried to climb the staircase to his furnished room. He did not want a conversation with Miz James. She made him very uncomfortable.

Too bad for me she caught up.

“Home a little early, Mr. Murphy?”

“Yes Miz James, I got the afternoon off.”

“Humph,” she said as she disappeared down the other wing.

He sighed. He got off lighter than he expected. Miz James was usually good for a thirty-minute or longer interrogation. He mounted the stairs up to the fourth floor.

He used a single key to unlock the deadbolt and security lock he had installed. He had the security set keyed to open both the deadbolt and the new lock on the doorknob. Miz James had objected, but he stood firm. He agreed to pay an additional security deposit to have the locks and the door replaced when he left, but he wanted to feel safe where he slept.

He entered his room, put his keys and a small amount of change in a garage sale dish on the dresser and sat down on the plastic-covered overstuffed chair to think about what happened to him that day. In an eye blink, his circumstances had changed.

Maybe he could accelerate his plans for mom’s move and eventually his own. Then he looked about and faced the grim reality.

He saw a single bed, dresser, his chair, and a closet all stuffed into a twelve by thirteen space in the attic room of his Clinton walk-up. There was the quilt and the two wedge pillows. He had bought a quilt to make the bed seem like more of a sofa when he moved in right after college. He remembered that he only planned to stay for a month or two before moving on to better digs. Back then, he had dreams.

He closed his eyes and remembered everything that happened to bring him to this point of his life. Brian was going to save enough to buy himself a one-bedroom condominium in town and a small used car. He wanted a flat screen TV and a DVD player, all of the toys that boys loved. Those dreams flourished before he found out his mother didn’t do any of the things he had asked her to do to see to her welfare until he graduated.

He planned to help. He knew it was his responsibility to support her, but when she told him she was ill, he had only a month until graduation. He knew the amount of his future salary depended heavily on his degree, so he had to finish school to be able to take care of both of them.

He did ask her how bad things were, but she reassured him she could hold out for a month. Later, he found out that although she was out of work for over six months, she never applied for unemployment or disability and therefore was not eligible for Medicare or Medicaid. She did not contact Social Services to ask for assistance, even though she qualified.

In the interim, her heart gave out. Smoking for all those years combined with poor nutrition, intermittent medical care, and stress, led to heart failure. Once he got home, he helped her fill out the forms for Social Security Disability and used some college connections to obtain a waiver to make her eligible for Medicare immediately plus supplemental social security income payments.

After she received her Medicare card, Medicare claimed her heart was not bad enough to receive a heart transplant right away.

Yet, mom could no longer care for herself and her bills were astronomical. Irene was responsible for the deductibles and copayments that by law, the doctors were not permitted to waive, even for indigent patients.

Brian heard the news about his mother’s heart while he was on the train coming home from graduation. She gave the hospital his name and cell phone number as her emergency contact.

They told him she was malnourished and had not filled her prescriptions, so her heart condition worsened.

He met her at the hospital, and though her condition was grave, Irene survived. A hospital charity organization paid some of the bills, but the rest were her responsibility. Thus, it became Brian’s load to bear. It took almost a year of work before Brian cleared out the last of the outstanding medical bills. He managed to do so by living in Miz James’ Hilton.

He got up from his chair and pulled a can of lukewarm Coke from his small cooler. Damn it, I forgot to buy ice. He sat down on the chair and attempted to read the newspaper, his one indulgence. He couldn’t sit still. Memories kept intruding on his concentration.

He put his mother on the company medical plan immediately, so there were no additional medical bills to worry about, or so he thought. The company plan paid for office visits with a co-payment of only four dollars. Any emergency room visits, especially for a heart patient, were free. These were all good things and did a lot to ease Brian’s fear of the future. However, his mother was unable to live alone.

While Irene was in the hospital, in addition to the medical mess, he discovered she owed almost six months in back rent because of her inability to work. She kept promising the landlord that her son would take care of it.

As soon as Brian entered the building the first night, he had to use his meager savings to prevent the landlord from throwing her things out into the street. Brian paid him because he had no choice. He paid the tab until the end of the month and gave notice. He could not afford to keep the apartment and pay someone to stay with his mother full time. He had to work to keep ahead of her bills, and her apartment was too small for both him and a caregiver. He had to settle her financial affairs before she could enter any of the programs the social workers described to him.

He had a week. The hospital staff told him Irene would be discharged after only a few days. His own heart almost stopped.

When they noticed his panic-stricken face, they assured him his mother could transfer to an acute care facility for about five days.

He had time to make arrangements. There was the alternative of putting her in a charity facility, but he had visited a couple of those places on the hospital’s list, and they reeked of urine and neglect.

Even with the outstanding medical bills, she was unable to declare bankruptcy under the new stringent laws. He knew he had to find a solution quickly. Irene’s neglect of her health and financial situation brought about the crisis and he could not in good conscience permit her to continue to live that way. His only solution was his father’s sister, Aunt Mary.

He got up from his chair. The late afternoon sun beat down on the roof and his room had little ventilation. He removed his Dockers and Mr. Drummond’s shirt and carefully folded both so he could take them to the laundry on Saturday morning. He took the top sheet off the bed. Then, he fished a few of the remaining ice cubes out of the cooler and rubbed them over his chest and arms. The ice cooled his body enough to make the room livable for a while longer.

Try as he might, his mind refused to settle and move away from his dealings with his Aunt Mary and his mother. Brian sighed, the movie in his head continued uninterrupted. By the time Irene transferred to the second facility, she was coherent enough for Brian to sit her down and insist on knowing everything. He unearthed, in addition to the landlord, a number of utility bills and an unpaid balance on her MasterCard of fifteen hundred dollars, all now his responsibility.

After considering his limited set of options, Brian realized he had to bring Aunt Mary into the picture. Until he was able to pay off both Irene’s medical bills and her outstanding living expenses, he could not pay for both an apartment and a caretaker, so Aunt Mary was the only answer.

Aunt Mary readily agreed. However, she didn’t ask Brian if he wanted to stay with his mother until he got on his feet again, although she knew Brian had already obtained a good job. It was just as well Mary did not ask. Mary lived too far out of town for Brian to commute. The bus routes did not cover the rural area of Allentown where she lived and would take Irene. When he visited his mother on Sundays he had to walk three miles to and from her home. Aunt Mary refused to pick him up at the bus stop.

Once, Aunt Mary had at least been cordial to Brian. When he came out of the closet at eighteen, his father’s sister disowned him. However, Mary was the only choice left.

Brian flung himself out of the chair and took the wedges off the bed so he could lie down. He usually tried to sleep through the worst of the heat. He could not shake his train of thought.

He remembered her last call.

“Brian, this is your aunt.”

As if I do not know your voice by now.

“Your mother went to the doctor today and I am considerably out of pocket.”

“Mary, Mom has an insurance card. I discussed this with both of you the last time I visited. She presents the card and it covers the visit with the exception of four dollar co-pay which Medicare picks up.”

“I don’t recall that conversation. She must have misplaced the card. I paid sixty-five dollars and I need it back immediately.

I can’t keep on shelling out money for her, Brian, and waiting for you to pay me back.”

“I’ll make sure you get back the money in two days, Aunt Mary. I will FedEx a check and another insurance card. If mom can’t keep track of it, can you do it for her?”

“I do enough for your mother for the pittance you give me, Brian. I should just put her out on the street and let you care for her, as you should be doing already. My electric bill and my gas bill have both gone up as well as my water and sewer.”

“How much would it take to cover it for a while longer?”

Brian asked with a sigh.

“Oh, around two hundred and fifty dollars extra per month should suffice.”

“Aunt Mary, I’m not a fool. One elderly woman doesn’t run up two hundred and fifty dollars of utility bills a month.”

“She does if you want her to continue to live with me, Brian.”

“I’ll include it with the check and the insurance card. Please try to remember the insurance card, Mary.”

“The extra two fifty will help my memory, but only for a while Brian.”

Brian remembered banging his fist against the dresser, but all that brought him was an unwelcome visit from Miz James who accused him of damaging her property. He told her to take it out of his deposit.

It was not long before he realized that putting mom with Mary was a mistake of massive proportion. He began to receive bills from all of his mother’s physicians. Mary claimed Irene did not tell her about the new insurance and she was not aware of it until Brian mailed her the card personally. Since Aunt Mary had not presented the insurance card to the doctor, they automatically assumed Irene was on Medicare. Brian made a deliberate decision to send his mother to physicians who did not participate in Medicare. He wanted his mother to have the best care available.

He chose her physicians from several “Best Doctor” lists and did this because his research showed that his insurance would be primary, since she was his dependent.

Without his insurance, Brian had to pay cash and in addition he had had mounds of paperwork to file in order to recover what he had to pay out of pocket because of Aunt Mary’s inconvenient memory. To say nothing of the amount of time it took for reimbursement.

Brian maintained the polite fiction that Aunt Mary didn’t know about the card, though they both knew what she had done and why. What was worse; Irene had been helpless to stop her.

She had become extremely depressed and unstable because she was such a burden to her son. The depression meant psychiatric care and psychological counseling. The counselor scolded Brian for making Irene believe she put the weight of the world on his shoulders. If though, in Brian’s mind it sometimes it seemed that way, he never said a word.

He visited his mom once a week, which was often as Mary permitted and had never, ever, given Irene the impression that she was a burden or was anything other than his beloved mother.

The burden fixation came from Mary. He found out for the first time in the doctor’s office that his mother was a borderline schizophrenic and had taken medication for years. It puzzled him, because the doctors referred to a series of hospitalizations that he could not recall after his dad died. His mind skittered away from that then as it did now, leaving nothing but a shiver and a quiver of fear.

He knew Aunt Mary’s game. The more cash Mary bled from Brian, the longer Irene would stay with Mary, enabling Mary to continue leeching money from the government as an at-home caregiver as well as from Brian. He was in a double bind. If he reported Mary, she threw Irene out. Mary was a mean b***h on her best days. Brian was in constant fear that an unappeased Mary would make good on her threats to throw his mother out to the street. That would leave Brian to face putting her in a home for the indigent.

Those nursing homes were the type of places where they warehoused the elderly poor quite like the ones he visited when he first came back from school. Brian read newspaper exposés that reported institutions where they tied the patients to chairs and placed them en mass, in front of a blaring television, which the management passed off as recreation for the residents.

Others were reported for medication mishaps resulting in serious injury to the residents and this was an everyday occurrence. Mary played on his fears, calling Brian with constant demands that he up the ante for room and board.

He spent the last year paying all of Irene’s outstanding bills and meeting Mary’s ever-increasing demands. A few more pay checks would bring him enough money to pay the necessary fees to get Irene established in a decent assisted living facility.

It came as no surprise that the cost of care in a nice home with a small apartment would be actually less than he currently paid Mary. When Irene was settled, with his company medical and prescription plans in place with minimal co-pays, he’s have it almost all together. He had even begun to think about a very cheap used car, and later, an actual apartment. Dreams of condominiums and electronic toys had long since fallen by the wayside.

As had his dreams of finding a lover. Brian’s eyes started to water.

What lover would be willing to share my bleak life? Realistically, my mother could go on like this for years, and she has no one but me to foot the bill. That is it, that is why my mind cannot move away from Mom. Today I found the man who will be the love of my life and there is not a damn thing I can do about it.

The tears rolled off his cheeks and down his chest.

Sometimes, alone at night, Brian would masturbate, fantasizing about his own idea of Prince Charming. After today’s lunch, Prince Charming gained a face and a name, Donald K. Drummond.

His first sight of Donald Drummond had left Brian with an erection so fierce, he hid it behind the clipboard he carried. The man stood over him with the outline of a half-hard c**k dressed right under his navy suit pants.

He realized what he had interrupted. Mr. Drummond had been getting it off in his private bathroom. Then he looked up and saw the man himself. Donald K. Drummond was huge, broad shouldered, with a trim waist. He was well over six feet, Brian had to crane his neck. His hair was chestnut brown with deep auburn highlights and his eyes were a piercing emerald green. His jaw was strong, but his mouth was wide with thin lips. His aura of complete command wooed Brian and his kindness soothed. He was so near to Brian’s ideal lover, Brian began to shake. He could not even think straight. All he could do was peek out at Donald Drummond from under his lashes.

Brian could still feel Donald’s caress on his cheek, and even the memory of his strong, powerful hand stroking down the side of his face still made his long slender c**k stick up like a hot fire poker. When Donald spoke, Brian fell right into his lap, literally, and he had wanted to stay there.

The caring, open man looked to soothe his troubles. The idea that Drummond actually cared about what happened to Brian was what broke through the iced casing around his heart for the first time in years. He decided he would trust him with the truth.

He knew this man would keep his promise to care for Irene.

However, what Brian glimpsed at lunch brought him to the floor. They drove in a Mercedes SUV to the Chambersburg section of Trenton. Donald parked in a small lot on the corner next to a non-descript stucco building with a small sign indicating a Spanish restaurant. Donald opened the door and they stepped inside. The décor astounded him. He felt transported to a café in the heart of Spain.

The waiter greeted Donald by name and seated them in a booth toward the rear of the restaurant. Once seated, Donald removed his tie and opened his shirt at the collar turning up his shirtsleeves.

He couldn’t stop staring. Donald was a Bear, an openly gay man, who was oversized and hairy; his body was Brian’s idea of perfection. His imagination ran wild. Bears usually hung out in biker and leather bars.

Donald Drummond was a Bear in a suit…decidedly ironic, yet magnificently s****l. He felt the tether and the hook sink right into his heart.

He was very familiar with the world of Dominance and submission.

He pictured himself cuddled up, burying his face in Donald’s furry chest after Donald had warmed his ass with a spanking. He pictured them rubbing off, c***s held together by Donald’s large hand, his hairless chest and oh, so sensitive n*****s abraded by his own Bear and Master, Donald K.

Drummond, of Drummond Real Estate. The idea of Donald, the business mogul, was electrifying. The suggestion of Master Donald was the stuff of his most fevered dreams.

Donald ordered for both of them and the waiter set down a plate of four seasoned lamb chops grilled to perfection accompanied by a vegetable medley steamed with just a hint of lemon and saffron along with a side of crisp Spanish potato chips and Spanish rice. Brian hadn’t eaten a meal like that since college. Fine dining was not high on his priority list of late. All he had to do was pick up the utensils and dig in to the feast.

He kept his eyes down as an almost subliminal act, the only feast he saw from underneath his lashes did not lie on his plate. It was the body of the man across the table. He longed to kiss those honed abs, suck on the hard n*****s while rubbing his face on Donald Drummond’s chest. He wanted those strong arms holding him up with his legs wrapped around Drummond’s tight ass. He wanted the burn as Donald pounded into his hole. He wanted Donald to gather him up in his arms and carry him to share a bath after an intense lovemaking session. He wanted Donald to tie him up. He wanted Donald’s bare hand curving around his buttocks, reddening both cheeks.

Hell, he wanted to be Donald’s boy with all of his heart and soul. He longed to give him service; he longed to show him love.

Donald had to call his name several times to regain his attention, because Brian dove so far into his fantasy. He hoped the small stain on his Dockers did not show. Yet, he knew it had.

Maybe it would serve to give Donald notice that Brian found him attractive. Breaking away from his reverie, Brian shoved off the bed and walked to the dresser in frustration.

Goddamn, Brian thought to himself, banging his hand on the dresser. Now I’m fantasizing about a fantasy!

He was in no position to dream. It was as his mother often said to him while he was growing up, “If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.” Brian was a beggar at Donald’s table, and he couldn’t hold up his head if he had to live on sufferance, even if it were Donald’s.

It was what his father said and did before he died that kept Brian wary of wealthy men like Donald. Brian’s father said, “You are not a man unless you can care for your own, son. Be sure you can support both yourself and your family before you take on any other obligations. If you are beholden to the woman you marry, you will be a kept man all your life.” Brian was only six at the time, but he had memorized every word his father ever said to him.

His father had cared for his family. He left two rather substantial insurance policies, one for his Aunt Mary and one for him and his mother. Aunt Mary invested her principal in a conservative annuity that allowed her to live well, if not lavishly.

Irene, on the other hand, had invested in every crazy Ponzi scheme that came down the turnpike, including the last one, which left her penniless, and working as a waitress. Luckily, the money for college was in trust. Aunt Mary, who was the executor of his father’s will, insisted on that. He stretched the amount by working, and sent what he could to his mother every month. The work he found right after his first year had paid well. It enabled him to stay in the dorm, take summer courses, and send money home.

Brian had discovered he was a sub in college and enjoyed the life. He planned to join one of the quality clubs in the area, once employed. The membership fees for subs were not as onerous as they were for Dom’s, however, it was another dream on hold until whenever. What he felt now though, was not a dream for whenever. Brian had fallen to the O’Shea curse. One look and Brian O’Shea/Murphy was in love with a life sentence.

“Donald would make a bitchin’ hot Dom,” Brian thought. It didn’t matter if Donald K. Drummond was a Dom, a sub, or a bum. He was one man he would do most anything for, and the one so far out of his reach, it was laughable even to fantasize.

He got his can of Coke and took another long gulp. He looked at the peeling paint and wallpaper. Sometime after the waiter served dessert, a Spanish flan, so smooth it melted in the mouth and awakened every taste bud, Donald offered Brian a job as his personal assistant. Foolishly, he jumped at the chance. If nothing else, it offered him an opportunity to be close to Donald every day. He didn’t have the fortitude to refuse.

The room began to heat up in the mid-afternoon sun. He wished for a small fan to move the air around. In reality, this place is a firetrap and needs to be condemned but I can’t knock it, because I can’t afford the freight anywhere else.

He went over to the window and looked at the sky. It was clouding up. Sometime soon, one of those harsh summer thunderstorms that New Jersey was famous for would strike, and the rain would cool the roof and thus his room. Other than that, the window above his bed was the only source of air in the room.

He lay back on the bed, wishing for a fan.

The electricity was so unreliable that Miz James had forbidden her tenants to purchase or use any fans, hotplates, or other electrical appliances. Brian suspected the place violated every electrical code in Trenton, and if she blew the grid, the fines would put her out of all of her “illegal businesses.” Living in the James Boarding House, Brian received an education on the underbelly of Trenton Society. She received a cut of the local drug trade, prostitution, and bookmaking. She had her fingers in all of the illegal activity in the Clinton area, up to and including “collection” work and assassination.

His mind wandered back to Donald. How was he going to work with Donald K. Drummond every day, and not fall at his feet and beg to suck him off to show him Brian Murphy, the sub, didn’t babble, had perfect balance and grace, and would serve him faithfully for the rest of his life for just the chance of notice? Brian felt that if it were up to him that would be exactly what he would do, but it is not, and he couldn’t. This fantasy was over, period. He did what he usually did, he coped.

Come Monday he began his new position as Special Assistant to the CEO. How that had come about, Brian could not fathom. When they left for lunch, he was going to Information Technology, and then over coffee, Drummond asked him to be his personal assistant. Drummond said his new job would be keeping Donald’s financial affairs in order and up-to-date.

He was to organize the information and put it into a graphical format geared to instantly spot trends, positions, and cash flow of Donald’s personal assets and investments. It was something he was good at doing. Brian just hoped his drool didn’t short out the computer, or worse, cause Drummond to realize his nerdy new assistant was in love with his boss. Brian fell asleep slowly stroking himself off to the memory of his dream “Daddy’s” chest.