Disgusted, William Ellison threw the Religion section of the local newspaper to his son Jim's feet. "I go to read Reverend Merrimont's column like I always do," he informed him, "and what do I see? My son kissing some guy."
Jim discreetly clenched his jaw but showed no reaction. He and Blair had participated in a friendship ceremony performed by Michelle's rabbi friend. The press had been present. * And even though Jim had been unaware of the picture taken at the exact moment that, well... He himself was not fazed. "It's not some guy, Dad. It's Blair."
"Okay, fine." Mr. Ellison said curtly. "I go to read Reverend Merrimont's column and I see my son kissing Blair, who happens to be another man... At least I think he is." He grumbled the next comment. "I mean who can tell under all that hair."
"Do you want to leave now?" Jim motioned to the door. "This is my home you know."
"Yes. I am well aware of that fact." William Ellison surveyed the loft. "Yours and that stray pup you brought in."
Professor Michelle Futterman's office:
"Hey, Doc." Blair Sandburg bounced into the Jewish Educator's office, his hand still on the doorknob.
"Don't you know how to knock?"
Blair grinned mischievously and rapped on the open door. "Professor Futterman, may I come in?" he asked in a little boy voice.
The corners of Michelle's mouth twitched. "Come on in," she relented. "What do you need?"
Blair sat on the edge of her desk and deposited his backpack on the floor. "What makes you think I need something?"
Michelle folded her arms. "Well, that's the only time that I ever really see you on campus."
The young man looked wounded. "That's not true," he informed her. "But... I could use a lift home. Jim was supposed to pick me up here thirty minutes ago."
Michelle sat forward. "Mr. 'one minute passed the time and you're late'."
Blair toyed with a pile of paperclips on the desk. "The same. I talked to Simon. He said Jim went home two hours ago. I've tried calling... No answer."
Michelle rose from her desk. "Do you think something happened to him? Maybe he zoned." She was already grabbing her purse and jacket and heading for the door.
"I guess that's a 'yes'." Blair shrugged, grabbed his pack and followed.
The Loft
"I'll just never understand this, Jimmy. You tell me that the two of you aren't..." He paused trying to find the best wording. "Involved," he said slowly. "And then I see this." The senior Ellison again indicated the picture. "I mean if you saw this what would you think?"
Jim had situated himself so he was seated on the back of the sofa. "I'd think I was kissing my friend," he replied matter-of-factly. "And if you'd read the article you'd know. It's about friendship."
William Ellison shook his head. "You're kissing him," he stated flatly.
"So?"
"That seems sexual."
"There's nothing sexual about it."
"You're kissing him." his father repeated.
Jim ran a hand over his head. This was going to be a long evening. "I don't feel that way about him."
"Then why are you kissing him?"
An annoyed grin broke across Jim's face. "I don't know why I'm even wasting my breath explaining this to you but since I am, listen close because I'm only going to explain it once. I know you don't like to hear this but I love Blair..."
His dad started to open his mouth but Jim put his hand up to silence him.
"I love Blair," he said again. "But not the way you think. Maybe it's deep friendship. Maybe even a brotherly love. It is love, though, and it's mutual."
"I can see that," Mr. Ellison said disgustedly, still referring to the newspaper.
"And," Jim continued, "for whatever reason it seems natural to show it to each other. So we hug... and, yes, much to your dismay we kiss. Sorry you think that all kisses are of a sexual nature."
"Well, this certainly looks it."
Jim was down to his last nerve. "Well, you don't have to look at it." He sighed. "Dad, get this through you head. It's the feeling in your heart that makes the gesture, not the other way around. I could kiss Sandburg all day long and only feel the brotherly love that prompted it in the first place."
The older man rocked on his heels. "It's obvious you care not what I think."
"That's the first thing you've been right about so far. I don't care what you think." Jim rose from his position on the sofa back. "And keeping with the subject of kissing, you can kiss my..."
"Jim!" Blair's voice prevented him from telling his father exactly what he could kiss, as he entered the loft with Michelle right behind.
"Chief, what are you doing..." He paused to glance at his watch. "Oh, geez, kid, I'm sorry. I was supposed to pick you up."
"S'okay, man."
"Chelle, thanks for bringing him home."
Michelle closed the loft door. "Not a problem."
Jim dropped a hand on Blair's shoulder. "I'm really sorry..."
"Oh, Lord," Senior Ellison groaned. "Are you two going to kiss over this now?"
Jim was tiring of his father very quickly. "If we want."
"And we don't right now, do we?" Blair piped in. He was in no hurry to display any affection in front of Mr. Ellison.
Then for some reason William Ellison turned his attention to Michelle. "And just where do you fit in to all of this?"
"She's Jim's girlfriend," Blair said trying to help.
"She's not my girlfriend," Jim said, probably out of habit.
"Well, that is rather obvious," his father spat.
"Okay, I'm seeing her," Jim admitted.
"Seeing her?" William repeated. Then he turned to the confused professor. "You're seeing him?"
"Yeees," she answer softly.
"And you kiss him?" he continued.
"Is this a quiz?" Michelle queried as Jim and Blair struggled to contain laughter.
"Well, I think it is only fair to warn you that my son is involved with someone."
"Your son?"
Jim stepped forward. "Chelle, the man you are having the displeasure of meeting is my, heaven help me, father William Ellison."
The older Ellison opted to ignore the last remark. "I'm telling you for your own good. He and his... roommate... are... you know." He wanted to remain delicate for the sake of the lady.
Michelle's indignation rose. "No. I don't know. Why don't you tell me."
"Better than that. I'll show you." He proudly displayed the newspaper that had brought him to his son's home to begin with. "Just look at this picture."
"I don't have to look at it. I was there." She threw Jim a look as if to say, "What's with this jerk." Jim could only shrug.
"This doesn't bother you. I mean how can you kiss my son after... this." He again indicated the picture.
Michelle was a champion to the occasion. "With my mouth usually."
"Brainless woman," William muttered.
Jim who had been amused to watch Michelle handle his father on her own could no longer remain silent. Jumping between the two he informed the older man. "Far from it, Dad. You are talking to Professor Michelle Futterman, head of the department of Judaic studies at Rainier."
"Jim, I can deal with this," she told him, easing him back to where he'd been. "Luckily," she began looking the man in the eye the best she could considering the height difference. "What you think doesn't concern me in the least."
"You three deserve each other," William Ellison stated finally heading for the door. Opening it he added, "You're all nuts."
"That's meshuga," Michelle corrected. This time Jim and Blair did not hide their laughter.
"By the way..." Blair snagged the newspaper and went after Jim's dad. "You forgot your picture." He tossed it into the hall and closed the door.
Michelle moved close to Jim. "Do I want to know?"
Jim shook his head. "No," he told her. "But as Eischied would have said, 'Ya done good.'"
"Considering I only had a gist of what was going on, I take that as a compliment."
"Are you two going to kiss over this now?" Blair teased in imitation of an earlier comment.
"If we want," Jim mused back.
And they did.
THE END