The Victorious and the Relentless

Episode 30: “Turning Back Time”

Cast of New Characters (for this episode)

Lord Edward Armitage (senior): stately gentleman, patrician airs, intransigent character, conservative, well-mannered, late 50’s, father to Gavin Armitage

Lady Eleanor Armitage: graceful, old-fashioned, early 50’s, mother to Gavin Armitage

Simone Hastings: delicate spitfire, politically astute, beautiful, blonde, blue eyed splendor, early twenties, fiancée to Gavin Armitage

James Sutcliffe: fiercely determined, highly educated, uncompromising, mid-30’s, father to Callum

Anne Sutcliffe: loyal, sweet, well-mannered, blue eyes, black hair, early thirties, loving mother to Callum

Seamus Moynihan: Irish, intensely dogged, grey hair, blue eyes, father to Nathan, late 40’s

Siobhan Moynihan: Irish, dark hair, blue eyes, mid-40’s, doting mother to Nathan

Cora Caldozar: charming, resolved, Hispanic, maternal, late 40’s

Taylor Smith: androgynous, tall, dark hair and eyes, long manicured fingernails, saucy attitude, late 30’s

PLEASE NOTE: Ages given are at their initial appearance in the episode and may need adjusting in latter parts of the episode.

The familiar opening sound of Tears for Fear’s iconic song “Everybody Wants to Rule the World” opens this episode, playing concurrently over the following three scenes:

July 1986, Sutcliffe Family Cambridge Summer Holiday Estate:

Anne: Don’t you reckon it’s a bit too early for this discussion?

James: I want our son to have the same education as all the men in my family.

Anne: Meaning Eton and then either Oxford or Cambridge?

James (proudly): Absolutely…only the best!

Anne: James, Callum is different.

James: That, he is. He’s rather precocious.

Anne: Therefore, he’ll be able to make a decision for himself when the time comes. And should he decide to go elsewhere—

James (cutting her off): The only other option being Harrow.

Anne: Oh, James, you’re incorrigible. The boy will have many options available to him. He already has numerous interests. He may wish to pursue the arts. His piano instructor is very impressed with his progress, especially at his age.

James: Anne, at best that shall be his hobby. I see a big future ahead for our son as either a businessman, politician, or—

Anne: It’s not your bloody decision to make! (turning around in time to see the nanny bring in Callum, the little boy tailored in a children’s designer suit, bending down to face him) How’s Mummy’s boy doing? Did you have a nice pony ride?

Callum: Yes, Mummy. I had fun.

James (looking at the boy’s soiled outfit): Callum, you’re a right mess. (to the nanny) Please clean him. Tea will be served soon.

Callum (looking at his father’s stern face): I’m sorry, Father.

Anne: It’s okay, Callum. (ruffling his hair) Daddy’s just having a bad day. (hearing James ostentatiously grunt as she sends Callum off with the nanny)

James (scoffing): Riding ponies, Anne! The boy’s too old for that.

Anne: He’s quite fond of them. He always looks forward to riding them when we visit.

James: If you’re not careful with your influence, the boy will turn out queer.

Anne: James, don’t say such rubbish! (taking his hand and guiding him out the room to tea) He’s our son, and we’ll unconditionally love him—even if he should take up dressmaking.

James (being playfully jabbed in the side): Speak for yourself, woman!

JULY 1986, ARMITAGE ESTATE IN BELGRAVIA, LONDON, UK

The Armitage family has assembled in the sitting room, enjoying tea and each other’s company.

Edward (picking up teacup): I have big plans for you, Son.

Gavin: Father, I really desire to continue my education and obtain a postgraduate degree.

Edward (taking a sip of his tea): That’s admirable. And then afterwards you’ll do what?

Gavin: I want to specialize in Mother’s business.

Edward: Publishing? That’s balderdash, Gavin! You want a career where you can make a difference.

Gavin: Father, we’ve had this discussion numerous times. I’m not interested in politics.

Edward: But, son, you are the voice of the future. Parliament needs you. The country needs you.

Gavin: Father, the country—

Edward: Is going to hell in a hand basket.

Eleanor: Calm down, Darling. We all know where you stand regarding her. Maggie Thatcher has done a right mess leading this country.

Gavin (turning to Edward): And you would have done better as PM?

Edward: My time has come and gone, son, but I know that with the right determination, you would make a great leader for Britain.

Eleanor: Edward, don’t you think you’re putting too much pressure on him? He’s got his upcoming nuptials to consider.

Edward: The Hastings are a very politically driven family. (to Gavin) Your marriage to Simone will be a powerful, strategic move.

Eleanor: Edward! You shouldn’t minimize his affections for her. She’s an outstanding young lady, worthy of our son’s love and admiration. She’s not some chess piece.

Edward: Eleanor, I was merely pointing out the benefit of their union. It would be a windfall for—

Gavin: Mother! Father! Would you please stop? (pause) There’s not going to be a wedding.

Edward: What’s this?

Eleanor (suddenly alarmed): Why not? Has Simone got cold feet?

Gavin: No, it’s nothing like that. (hesitantly) There’s something I need to tell you both.

It was then that he told his parents the secret he had held long from them and his fiancée… that he was a homosexual and could no longer keep up the charade. He had tragically broken Simone’s heart, and he was fearful of doing the same to his gentle mother. It was a fait accompli that his father would be crushed and would never get over such a shock.

JULY 1986, BROOKLYN, NEW YORK, MOYNIHAN RESIDENCE

Siobhan: Are you sure this is what you want? To become an educator?

Nathan: Yes, Ma. You’ve known I’ve always wanted to make a difference in the life of children.

Seamus: Then become a pediatrician. You’ll make more money and never have to worry about a dime.

Nathan: Dad, money’s not everything.

Siobhan: Seamus, he’s right. There are more important things than money.

Nathan: Like family. (coming to hug his father)

Seamus (patting his son’s back): So are you going back to Harvard?

Nathan: Two degrees from them is enough for me, don’t you think?

Siobhan: Then where are you going?

Nathan: Stanford.

Siobhan: That’s wonderful, Nattie. You’ll be there with Allison. (winking at him) It could be a good reunion for you two.

Nathan: Ma, that ship has sailed.

Seamus: Siobhan, don’t push the subject. Allison’s gone the way of Henry O’Malley’s daughter.

Siobhan (tapping Nathan’s shoulder): Did you know this?

Nathan: Yes, Ma.

Siobhan: So she’s like you?

Nathan: Yes, Ma. She’s gay.

Seamus: I told you not to push the subject!

Siobhan (to Nathan): So there’s no chance for you and her?

Seamus: For Christ’s sake, woman, the boy’s bent. There’s nothing either of us can do to change it.

Nathan: I should hope neither of you would want to.

Siobhan: But I want grandchildren, Seamus.

Nathan: You’ve got Sinead for that.

Seamus: Let’s just hope she doesn’t turn out like you. (turning to leave the room, tension subsiding with his absence)

Nathan: I’m sorry, Ma.

Siobhan: You know I love you no matter what. (goes to hug him)

The embrace did little to erase the hurt from Nathan as he knew his father still didn’t accept his sexuality. It had been a massive blow for him and remained a subject best avoided in the family.

OCTOBER 1996, LOS ANGELES SPORT COLISEUM, USC VS. STANFORD FOOTBALL GAME

Exposé’s “I’ll Never Get over You Getting over Me” begins playing with this time shift of a decade. The action moves to the sunny, autumnal climate of Los Angeles as southern California’s premier private university combats northern California’s version. It’s during this prestigious football match that Nathan unexpectedly runs into Allison and Chloe at the concession stand.

Nathan (shaking hands with her): It’s a pleasure meeting you. Allison’s said so much about you.

Chloe: All good things, I hope. She’s likewise sung your praises. Sometimes she does it in her sleep.

Nathan (laughing, turning to Allison): I’m sorry I never got a chance to see you until now.

Allison: You’ve lived in California for nearly a decade, and until now have yet to come see me—us—in southern California. What—or rather who—has kept you away all this time?

Nathan: What?

Allison: I only saw you a few times when you were at Stanford. Are you still seeing that freshman—well, he’s no longer one—Kieran? (nudging Chloe in the side) Nathan was quite the cradle-robber in grad school.

Chloe: You’re one to talk, Allison. You got me in my sophomore year.

Nathan (solemnly): I’m no longer with him.

Allison: So who are you with now? You can’t stay single for long.

Brendon (coming up to them, handing Nathan a soda): He’s with me.

Nathan: Allison, Chloe, this is Brendon.

Brendon (shaking their hands): Pleasure meeting you, ladies.

Chloe: So how long have you two been together?

Brendon: A little under a year, but I know he’s a keeper.

Allison: I’ll agree with you on that. He’s an awesome man.

Brendon: Nathan’s said so much about you, although (looping his arm around Nathan) I had to beat it out of him. He’s so private with the details of his life.

Allison (to Brendon): Get to know me, and I’ll dish out all the gossip.

Chloe: So how did you two meet?

Brendon: In a library. I needed to research something for one of my independent films. I bumped into him, it was love at first sight, and the rest—as they say—is history.

Nathan (ostentatiously patting him on the chest): That’s the short version.

Brendon: Well, it’s good for Allison that we’re moving here. I can tell her the rest over dinner sometime.

Allison (to Nathan): You’re moving to Los Angeles? (pause) Why is this the first time I’m hearing this?

Brendon (whispering to Chloe): She’s a little pushy… my type of lesbian.

Nathan: It’s Brendon’s job that’s bringing us here.

Brendon (to Chloe): I better save him. (aloud) We just bought a house in Silver Lake. It was supposed to be a surprise announcement for you, but now that the secret’s out, I guess we can invite you over for cocktails.

Chloe: That’s great. We live in neighboring Los Feliz.

Allison: I, for one, am looking forward to getting to know you better, Brendon, (turning to Nathan) and catching up with you.

Nathan tried his best to hide his mild dissatisfaction with Allison wanting to insinuate herself back into his life. They had parted on amicable terms, but there was a part of him that felt something was awry. They all headed back to their seats in the stadium.

OCTOBER 1996, ARMITAGE ESTATE IN BELGRAVIA, LONDON, UK

Lord Edward Armitage had died of a heart attack, leaving his family in absolute shock. His wife Eleanor immediately notified their son. At the funeral, she was elated to see Gavin conversing with Simone Hastings, her son’s former fiancée. From afar she saw them in an embrace, her bereft heart feeling a brief moment of contentment. She should have known better than to think that Gavin had changed his mind about his sexuality, which was such an important part of his life.

Simone (her arm around him): What are your plans now?

Gavin (taking a deep breath): I’m taking over the family business, Armitage & Burnham.

Simone: What about—

Gavin: Father’s seat? You know my heart was never into politics.

Simone (sotto voce): Nor into me.

Gavin: Pardon?

Simone: So no hope of 10 Downing Street in your future?

Talon (coming upon them): I think the next resident will be full-fledged Labour.

Simone (snarkily turning to him): And you know this because?

Gavin (sensing the tension): Simone, have you met Talon Prescott, one of my prized students?

Simone (reluctantly shaking hands with him): Pleasure.

Gavin: Simone is an old family friend. Her father Lord Hastings is the talk of Parliament.

Talon: Then your father must know my uncle, Iain Prescott. (noticing her astonished grimace) They have legendary sparring in Parliament. Your father has been the subject of many dinner conversations in our family home.

Gavin (putting hand on Simone, instantly calming her): Let’s not talk politics. This somber occasion hardly befits it in spite of father’s profession.

Simone (to Talon): So how well did you know Edward?

Talon (candidly): I didn’t.

Simone (turning to Gavin): Is it en vogue for professors to bring students to family funerals? (pauses as a thought comes to her) Are you two together? (nearly blanching)

Gavin: No, we’re not seeing each other. Talon’s just being supportive.

Talon (having seen her take a deep sigh of relief): Would it have been so bad if we were together? You must admit anyone who wins his heart is very fortunate.

Simone (solemnly): I guess Fortune was not on my side. (looking with pained eyes at Gavin) Excuse me. (rushes from the room past Eleanor, who clearly sees the tears in her eyes)

JULY 2006, BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS, DRAKE AND AUSTIN’S HOME

Annie Lennox’s “Walking on Broken Glass” (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3GBn-BpkNsA) begins playing as Drake looked at his wedding photos, smiling to himself and inwardly crying. He just got back from Chicago, feeling utterly ashamed of himself. He wanted to call Austin but knew it would be futile. What he had done was unforgivable. He looked again at their wedding photos. They were in such bliss, Austin’s smile beaming. He thought back to when they had romantically met on the subway here in Boston. That had been the most wonderful day of his life, meeting his soul companion. Pure joy had flowed through his veins when Austin had helped him to his final destination that day. He had been in Boston for business and had opted to use public transportation. After Austin had escorted him to his hotel, Drake offered to buy him some coffee at the nearby Starbucks. Their charming conversation then paled in stark contrast to the angered one they had last week. Drake had never seen Austin so upset, and it nearly scared him. The news had somehow leaked into the press, who immediately latched onto Austin’s duality as both a gay male and a staunch Republican.

Austin (angrily): How could you keep something this big from me?

Drake: I’m sorry.

Austin: Why couldn’t you have told me? Why’d I have to hear about it from the press?

Drake: I honestly thought—

Austin: Thought what? That you’d be able to keep this a secret? You realize you’ve made me the laughing stock of the media, my family, and the—

Drake (finishing for him): Republican Party, your other spouse.

Austin: Very funny, Drake. But right now it’s the only faithful spouse I can claim.

Drake: Just how faithful was it to you two years ago when your party leader wanted to make our marriage invalid?

Austin: You’ve already done a good job of that.

Drake (coming to him): I’m sorry, Austin. It was a stupid mistake.

Austin (shouting as he backs away): Drake, you lied to me and my family!

Drake: It happened before we were married.

Austin: It should have been the first thing you told me when we got intimate. Had I known I was entering into a relationship with an unfaithful—

Drake: I was never unfaithful to you, Austin. I love you.

Austin: You certainly have a funny way of showing it. Call it a lie of omission. I don’t care. The point still remains that you neglected to tell me about this part of your life.

Drake (tears coming into his eyes): I knew you wouldn’t understand, being all right-wing conservative.

Austin (shouting): Drake, you were already married!

Drake: I thought she had it annulled. I remember signing some legal document.

Austin: Well, it apparently didn’t hold up in court. Your marriage to this woman is still valid, whereas ours is null and void… not to mention the possible legal charges we could be facing! (frantically running his hands through his hair) Jesus, Drake! Did you ever stop to think? Or do you always act on impulse?

Drake (rising): Look, I’ve called Samantha. We’re going to sort this out.

Austin: How? The damage has been done. (throwing down newspaper to the society pages, his finger pointing to the reference of the historic Monroe family and their present scandal) My name’s been run in the mud. This state has only allowed same-sex marriages for a few years now. My father and uncle continue fighting in the state legislature to ensure our rights. Now, you’ve made a mockery of them!

Drake: Austin, this isn’t about your family. It’s about us.

Austin: Drake, you married into this family… or at least what I thought was a marriage.

Drake: Come on, Austin. Your mother doesn’t like me. Your father gives me the evil eye at the holidays. Your family never really accepted me. (sotto voce) And I doubt they fully accept you.

Austin: They accepted you as my partner, and now you’ve made a fool of us all. (turning away) I can’t believe I fell for a bigamist.

Drake: Better bigamists than bigots like your family.

Austin: How dare you bite the hands that fed you! We took you in when you had nothing. Me and my family were the best thing to ever happen to you, and you just spit in our faces.

Drake: Austin, I didn’t mean—

Austin: I don’t care to hear it, Drake. You’re not fit to wipe my parent’s shoes. I can’t even look at you right now. (storms out the room to Drake’s pleas to stay)

They had remained distant for several days afterward with Drake having gone to Illinois to rectify the matter with his wife. He had tried to reach Austin several times, but he was never able to enter into civil conversation with him. He kept hearing all the mean-spirited remarks Austin had directed at him during their final argument. It was with this frame of mind that Drake would embark on yet another mishap that would ultimately hurt him and Austin again.

JULY 2006, LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA

The vast majority of the male members of the Los Angeles Outrunners were agog over the new runner to join their club. A muscularly chiseled Italian stallion, Tristan Bersani had captured the imagination of all whose eyes took in his desirable body. The more sexually inclined members immediately thought of how amazing he must excel in the bedroom. Even the lesbians were intrigued by him, their curiosity piqued by his delivery of perfect English with a slight hint of an accent. Tristan, for his part, cockily thought the he could convert them all, especially the delicate one known as Chloe. It was her partner Allison that could pose a real challenge. He was spared this embarrassment when he officially moved to the city of West Hollywood and began that venue’s long-held ritual of sleeping with a quarter of its population’s muscled boy clones within the first month.

His spree of fun, however, was halted by the arrival of his best friend, Vittoria, who moved to Los Angeles with the hope of becoming an actress or model. They both got a two-bedroom apartment, and Tristan soon fell back into his promiscuous ways, both of them living in disruptive harmony until a series of weekend trips to Las Vegas would ultimately prove a terrible mistake.

TAYLOR’S TASTEFUL TOUCH SALON, SANTA MONICA BLVD, WEST HOLLYWOOD, JULY 2006

Tristan continued being the subject of much conversation, especially at a particular salon, operated by Taylor Smith, an androgynous individual whose actual gender was not known by anyone. Taylor had a flat chest with small visible lumps that could be mistaken for small breasts, and a voice that gave no indication of being either male or feminine, but It also didn’t help that Taylor would randomly dress in men’s and women’s clothing. Taylor resisted being called a transvestite, transsexual, or any other label. Of course, many even wondered if Taylor was his/her real name as it was conveniently applicable to either sex.

On this particular day, Taylor was putting the finishing touches on Priscilla Ashland’s well-coiffed head, her mischievous son Peyton sitting in the seat next to her.

Priscilla: So, Taylor, I know you see many Outrunners in here. What’s the word on this new guy Tristan?

Taylor: Girlfriend, I’ve heard much. It’s nonstop talk about him.

Priscilla: I checked out his ass the other day. It nearly sent me into cardiac arrest.

Peyton (hitting his mother with a rolled newspaper): Stop that, Mother! You know he’s off your radar.

Taylor: You never know. He may like cougars. (holding up mirror to Priscilla) There. What do you think?

Priscilla (taking mirror): I look dazzling. I’m sure our Casanova would take notice of me.

Peyton: Keep dreaming, Mother.

Priscilla (to him): And just how much progress have you made? The man’s been in town for two months, and he’s yet to see the inside of your bedroom… which can only mean one thing.

Peyton: What?

Priscilla and Taylor (in unison): He’s a top.

Peyton (brushing them off): You two are awful.

Taylor: He came in here earlier today for a haircut. The man’s got perfect follicles.

Priscilla: On his head or in his pubes?

Peyton: Mother!

Priscilla: What? Inquiring minds want to know.

Taylor: I do know that he’s seeing someone…at least temporarily.

Peyton: What gives you that idea?

Taylor: Because he was in here with his Latin boy toy. They were all touchy.

Priscilla: And you allowed it?

Taylor: I was lenient once I saw the crown jewels getting excited. (seeing their surprised expressions) It’s not like that. He was fully clothed, but you know these WeHo bitches love to wear tight-fitting clothes.

Priscilla: So how much is he packing?

Peyton: Mother!

Taylor: Let’s just say that the boy does Italia proud.

Priscilla: I need more details.

Taylor: A lady never tells.

Peyton: That’s if you are one.

Taylor: Bitch!

Priscilla: Well, it’s like how my grandmother once told me. A good pussy has at least nine lives. A good cock has at least nine inches.

Taylor: Amen, Sister!

Peyton (watching as they high-five each other): You two are incorrigible!

Priscilla: Well, it wouldn’t surprise me if our Italian stallion is at work right now.

SAME TIME, TRISTAN’S APARTMENT, WEST HOLLYWOOD

Just twenty minutes earlier Tristan had greedily accepted the money and was presently performing the task that would quickly make him a legend along the Santa Monica Boulevard circuit. He pinned the strikingly handsome, younger man onto the bed, the mattress nearly suffocating him as Tristan’s weight and undulating thrusts pushed the boy’s face downward. Rodrigo, for his part, was enjoying it, an incredible sexual sensation flowing through his lower body. He had heard through the grapevine that there was a new hustler in town, a bit high-priced but worth every penny or so the rumor went.

This guy is definitely worth it! He’s the whole package… a body to die for in every sense of the expression. European model looks, chiseled pecs, and washboard abs, and a divine piece of cock! Ouch! At that moment, Tristan’s hands had grasped into Rodrigo’s hair, yanking back his neck as the Italian further mounted him.

Tristan (having heard Rodrigo’s brief cry): You said you liked it rough.

Rodrigo: I do. You’re just so… good.

Tristan (cockily): I know. (spanking Rodrigo’s ass)

Rodrigo continued feeling his body jarred by Tristan’s sexual dynamo. Even though he was swallowed up by the pleasure, he did fear that his ass wouldn’t be able to handle much more of Tristan’s commanding performance. Their bodies were already laced with sheen of sweat, and they had maneuvered through several positions before Tristan returned him to missionary, Rodrigo’s legs resting atop Tristan’s shoulders, at which point Rodrigo looked up in joy and was briefly surprised to see his fulfilled image staring back at him. Mirrored ceilings! This only gets better with each passing minute!

Rodrigo delighted in watching his body continue to be ravaged, seeing Tristan’s tight, firm ass at work, the muscles majestically flexing as he drove his cock further into him. He saw how Tristan’s back muscles tensed, his body a beautiful combination of science and art. The gratification soon became too overwhelming for Rodrigo, and forced himself to work pushing Tristan away from him, the Italian seemingly beset on his present mission.

Tristan (smiling): Too much for you, no?

Rodrigo (panting): Y-Yes… ohhh! (reaching his own orgasm)

Tristan (feeling Rodrigo’s warm semen splash against his abs): I could go on for hours… but it’ll cost you.

Rodrigo: And I’d pay for it if I could. (reaching up to hastily kiss him)

Tristan allowed him the pleasure of returning the kiss, Rodrigo’s sweet lips too tempting to forego. However, it didn’t end there as Tristan felt Rodrigo’s warm mouth move downward to briefly suckle on his nipple, licking up a few beads of sweat along the way before his tongue at last reached Tristan’s abs and cleansed them.

This guy would be a keeper if he were rich. I like his naughtiness. Aroused by Rodrigo’s apparent taste for semen, Tristan was all too pleased to give him a second helping when he reached his climax.

Tristan (looking at the clock): You better go. Your time is up.

Rodrigo (grabbing his clothing): Thanks. (taking a deep breath) You were amazing. (moving to kiss him)

Tristan (moving back): You want more, you got to pay up.

Rodrigo: O-Okay. (rising from the bed and slipping into his jeans) I guess I’ll see you another time when I have more money. (slipping on his white tanktop) I really enjoyed you today.

Tristan saw him to the front door and down the hall. When he came back to the room, he saw Vittoria.

Vittoria: What’s with your shit-eating grin?

Tristan (pulling out several dollar notes and waving them in front of her): I just made a killing.

Vittoria (managing to snatch away a $100 note): Good, I need a new outfit.

Tristan: Hey! I worked hard for that, and don’t forget we wouldn’t be in this predicament if not for you.

Vittoria: I was trying to save your ass! Rudy would have—

Tristan: Let’s not get into this. Go ahead and keep the money. There’ll be plenty more. Besides, I have another appointment soon, and this one’s big… an attorney.

MAY 2008, HOLLYWOOD HOSPITAL, OFFICE OF DR. REYNOLDS, ONCOLOGIST

Rodrigo Caldozar sat across from Dr. Reynolds, his mother Cora Caldozar sitting next to him. Grave expressions were on their faces as Dr. Reynolds issued the news.

Cora: How much time do I have left?

Dr. Reynolds (sighing): Six months.

Rodrigo: But what about the chemotherapy? Hasn’t it worked?

Cora (turning to him): Mijo, we’ve run out of options not to mention insurance coverage.

Rodrigo (fighting back tears): So what now?

Dr. Reynolds: We can prescribe some medication for the pain.

Rodrigo: Please, Dr. Reynolds, tell me there’s something that can be done. I can’t lose my mother. She’s all I got.

Dr. Reynolds (looking at the tears running down his face): This is all I can—

Rodrigo (cutting him off): What about clinical trials or experimental drugs?

Dr. Reynolds: I really wouldn’t recommend that at this stage.

Rodrigo (angrily): So what? You just expect her to die?

Cora (placing her hand on his): Calm down, Rodrigo. I’ve already discussed this with the doctor. He knows I don’t want to go through another painful procedure.

Rodrigo: But Mama—

Cora (resignedly): I’ve lived a good life, mijo.

Rodrigo: Don’t talk like that, Mama.

Dr. Reynolds (handing Cora a prescription): Mrs. Caldozar, please call me if you have any questions. (rising from desk) I’ll leave you two alone.

Cora: Thank you, Dr. Reynolds.

Rodrigo (once he’s left the room): Why are you thanking him? He’s done nothing!

Cora: I know you’re angry, Rodrigo, but if it’s the good Lord’s will that I leave this earth, it’s not your place to argue.

Rodrigo: You know I don’t believe in—

Cora (putting her bony finger to her son’s lips): Maybe you should find your relationship with God. Prayer may help you through these times.

Rodrigo (teary-eyed): Mama, I’m so scared. I don’t want you to go.

Cora: We just have to make the most of our time together, however long or short it may be. (they embrace, her hand maternally patting his head) Come on, let’s go home.

They rose and shortly thereafter left the hospital. On the way home, Cora suggested they stop at the bookstore. It was there she purchased Callum Sutcliffe’s #1 international bestseller Our Autumnal Youth. Already knowing that it dealt with the theme of death and undying love, she thought it would help Rodrigo through his trying ordeal. She couldn’t have known the other effect the story and its author would have on her son’s emotionally fragile mind.

MAY 2008, BEVERLY HILLS HOTEL

Callum had wept to himself, drawing the attention of Godfrey, Inga, and to a lesser extent little Edward, as they rode in the limousine from the airport. They all knew that he was still mourning the loss of Gavin Armitage, his lifetime partner, several months after he had been lost at sea. Inga didn’t know why they had left London to fly to California. She knew it wasn’t her place to ask, only to care for the baby. Other than Callum, only Godfrey knew the reason they had come to America. They arrived at last at the hotel, whereupon Callum assured them their stay there would be temporary.

Callum: I’m meeting with an estate agent in the morning. I have my eye on some homes in Beverly Hills, Bel-Air, and the Hollywood Hills.

Godfrey: You’re not planning on staying here indefinitely? You only need to find this man, and… (seeing Inga in the room)

Callum: Inga, you and Edward have the adjoining bungalow. (Inga takes the hint and leaves the room)

Godfrey: Do you know where to find this man?

Callum (pulling out papers from briefcase): Don’t worry. I’ll find Nathan Moynihan and—(starts crying)

Godfrey (coming over to him): Would you like a drink?

Callum (sniffling): I can’t believe I’m doing this. Following through with my deceased husband’s wishes.

Godfrey: You realize this is very serious. If Lady Armitage were to ever get wind of this—

Callum: I know. Eleanor can never find out. All would be lost. (pause) On that thought, I think I’ll have that drink.

Godfrey: As you wish.

TWO DAYS LATER, TUESDAY EVENING, GRIFFITH PARK

311’s cover of “Love Song” (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mZqEqypU4cs) closes out this episode as Callum sits in his air-conditioned car, fighting the heat of the late spring Southern California day. It had reached the mid-90’s Fahrenheit. He was not used to these temperatures. He looked at his watch. It was nearing half past six, the point at which this athletic group would be meeting. He thought of Gavin and instantly fought back tears. I’m dong this for you. Seeing people begin congregating around the flag pole meeting location, Callum got out his car and rushed over to the crowd. He was given a warm welcome. It must be a close-knit community. It was Brendon Roberts who first made his acquaintance, introducing himself as president of the organization.

Brendon: So you’re visiting? (seeing him nod) For business or pleasure?

Callum: Definitely business.

Brendon: What is it you do?

Callum (putting hand to head): Bloody hell, this heat is unbearable. I-I’m a writer.

Brendon: Is that so? Are you researching the members of a gay athletic club for one of your stories?

Callum: Not everyone… just someone in particular.

Brendon (taking notice of Callum’s weariness): You’re not used to this weather. We’ve been experiencing an unseasonable heatwave. Perhaps you should sit down. I’ll get you some water.

Callum (sitting down): Thanks.

Callum bowed his head to his chest and took a deep breath. He didn’t feel up to running or doing anything remotely athletic. All he wanted to do was rest or get back to the comfort of his air-conditioned vehicle. He rose and was about to move toward the car when a deep, masculine voice called out to him, Callum’s back to the man. Callum turned around in time to see a bottle of water being extended to him.

Nathan: My partner Brendon had to take a call on his cell. He wanted me to give this to you.

Callum (breathless): Th-Thank you. (taking the bottle)

Nathan: We haven’t met. My name’s Nathan.

Callum: Moynihan.

Nathan: Yeah, that’s my name. How’d you know it?

Callum took one look at the man who was his designated enemy and knew immediately that there was absolutely no way that he could ever hate him. The foolishness of his young heart would override any demand of hatred. Callum lost his balance when he turned to walk away, Nathan immediately coming to steady him, but with the touch of Nathan’s skin upon his own, Callum felt an overwhelming sensation run through him. All that everyone else present felt was a wave of astonishment as they saw their visitor publicly faint into the arms of Nathan Moynihan.

TO BE CONTINUED…