February 20, 2006: The Eighteenth Day I Knew Andrew, Part Two

Anne-Sophie's Christmas stay with the Van Z's was not a happy one--for all parties, as it turned out, except perhaps for Andrew, who almost immediately, on the very first day, started to make fun of her, and to her face.

To make a long story short, Anne-Sophie was an absolute pain from the moment her plane landed in Minneapolis.

All of the family members arrived on the same early afternoon--coming in from New York (Alec and Lizbeth and Tim), Washington (Andrew), Denver (Alex) and Los Angeles (Anne-Sophie) so that Mr. and Mrs. Van Z could pick up everybody with one trip to the airport in two cars.

Mrs. Van Z had prepared a nice lunch for everyone, and it was waiting for them at home, but Anne-Sophie insisted upon being taken to a restaurant for lunch, even after being told that a nice lunch awaited her at home. Alec and Lizbeth could not go to a restaurant, what with the baby, so Andrew drove Alec and Lizbeth and Tim home in one car and Mr. and Mrs. Van Z and Alex and Anne-Sophie went to a restaurant in the other car so as to please Anne-Sophie.

Anne-Sophie embarrassed them, exceedingly, at the restaurant, complaining nonstop about the food and the service. Mr. Van Z said it was one of the most embarrassing moments of his life, and that they should never have gone to a restaurant where people knew them.

When they got home, Mrs. Van Z showed Anne-Sophie to her room, where there was a fresh-flower arrangement for her. "Get these out of here--I might have a reaction!" Anne-Sophie shrieked, and Mrs. Van Z had to get rid of the flowers. Alec, Lizbeth and Andrew all knew how to mimic Anne-Sophie, and they re-enacted this scene with glee.

Then Anne-Sophie complained about the Christmas tree--"I might have a reaction!"--and announced that she could not go into the living room unless they got rid of it. "Great!" said Andrew. "Then we'll call this the safe zone!" Every time Anne-Sophie was in the downstairs hall and passed by the living room, she held her head back and dramatically refused to breathe, so Andrew started doing the same thing whenever he passed by the living room, too. And Alec and Lizbeth and Andrew all imitated Anne-Sophie doing her "I dare not breath" gestures.

After her first night in Minneapolis, Anne-Sophie announced that she did not like her room--she could not sleep because she could hear the grandfather clock in the hall ticking outside her bedroom. Consequently, Mrs. Van Z changed her room for her.

After her second night in Minneapolis, Anne-Sophie announced that she did not like her second room, either--she could hear the wind outside blowing against the dormer windows. Mrs. Van Z, once again, changed her room for her.

After her third night in Minneapolis, Anne-Sophie announced that she did not like her third room, either (which was right across the hall from Andrew's room)--because Andrew made "strange noises" at night.

Alas, by this point, Anne-Sophie had gone through all the available rooms, and Mrs. Van Z told Anne-Sophie that she had nothing more to offer her. Anne-Sophie herself suggested that she be given the room being used by Alec and Lizbeth and Tim--which apparently she had wanted all along for some reason, or so Andrew thought--and Mrs. Van Z was on the verge of turning this room over to her, too, when Mr. Van Z stepped in and told Anne-Sophie that, if she could not accommodate herself to one of the three available rooms, he would take her to a hotel. Andrew's suggestion was that Anne-Sophie move to the basement--no ticking clocks, no dormer windows, no "strange noises"--and he asked her if she needed any help packing up her things for the move to the basement.

Anne-Sophie refused to help around the house, and she showed no interest at all in the baby. She never held the baby once. She would only speak to Mrs. Van Z when she wanted something, and she never uttered a syllable to Lizbeth the entire time she was there. Andrew said that was because Anne-Sophie knew that Lizbeth was a psychiatrist, and that Anne-Sophie feared that Lizbeth would officially declare her "wacko" on the spot.

Anne-Sophie did not want Alex to leave the house, so Alec and Alex and Andrew could not go visit their friends or go play basketball or go swimming or go anywhere or do anything. On the couple of occasions on which Alex did leave the house without her, Anne-Sophie threw a fit.

Anne-Sophie did not like the food, and was always asking that special things be prepared for her. Anne-Sophie would get up late, and come downstairs around lunchtime, and then want breakfast. On the third morning, at lunchtime, she told Andrew she wanted him to prepare her some breakfast. "What do you want?" he asked. "Anything with lime in it" she answered. "Great! What about scrambled eggs with lime--I can do that!" he said.

On Christmas morning, Anne-Sophie stayed in the hall while everyone else was in the living room opening presents. During this time, Andrew kept making funny sneezing noises until his Dad told him to stop it, but his Dad was laughing, all the same.

On Christmas day, for Christmas dinner, Anne-Sophie looked at the huge spread of food and said that she feared she would not be able to find anything she could eat. Andrew told her "Well, let's see--there are only about seventy things here for you to choose from. If you can't find something you can eat here, sweetheart, I can rustle you up a bowl of Science Diet!"

On Christmas night, around 8:00 p.m., Anne-Sophie told Alex that she was hungry, and that she wanted to go out to a restaurant and get something to eat--"maybe get some Thai food".

Andrew told her "Today is Christmas Day. It is 8:00 o'clock at night on December 25. This is Minneapolis, Minnesota. How many Thai restaurants do you think will be open in Minneapolis, Minnesota, on Christmas night?"

"Well, maybe we could just do carryout, then" Anne-Sophie ventured.

"And these restaurants are going to be open for carryout business only, on Christmas Night?" Andrew asked her. "Knock, knock, is anybody home? Anybody at all in there?" And he knocked on his head.

On December 26, Anne-Sophie told Alex, at lunch, how disappointing she had found Christmas day. "It was not at all what I expected" she said. "And what, then, did you expect?" asked Andrew. "I thought we would go golfing or something, and then have a nice lunch somewhere" Anne-Sophie said. "Well, tell you what" said Andrew. "Why don't you let me drop you off at the golf club right now--it's 22 degrees, and there are four inches of snow on the ground--and I'll come back and pick you up in five hours. How's that? Ready to go?"

One night the men were all watching a basketball game downstairs in the family room, and Anne-Sophie was watching, too, because she always stayed near Alex. She asked Alex to take her somewhere. "Like where?" he asked. "Maybe we could go to a modern-dance performance?" she asked. Andrew's interjection was "Great! Minneapolis is a hotbed of modern-dance activity at Christmas time. What a great idea!"

On another night, Anne-Sophie complained that she found the conversation boring, and she asked everyone to talk about something interesting. Andrew said "Great! Let's get started now on that conversation we've been saving for years, the dialectics of Kierkegaard! You go first, Anne-Sophie! You're the guest!"

Anyway, no one else but Andrew would take on Anne-Sophie. The culmination of this story was at New Year's, at 6:15 in the morning, "when Andrew drove her out", as Alec and Lizbeth said.

All throughout the holiday, to spare his mother, Andrew had got up at 5:00, ran the dog to get him taken care of, made coffee for everyone and took the coffee upstairs, along with the newspapers, and laid this stuff out on a chest in the upstairs hall for everyone to access as they got up. Then Andrew would go back downstairs to be ready to make breakfast for everyone as they assembled, one by one, in the kitchen.

On that morning, he had taken the coffee and newspapers upstairs, and he noticed Anne-Sophie poking around inside a hall closet.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" he had asked her.

"Yes" she said. "First, what ARE those strange noises you make in the middle of the night?"

"You probably heard Rex yawning. As I told you, he sleeps in my room. Dogs make yawning noises at night, even while they sleep."

"Well, I listened outside your door for over an hour last night, trying to figure out what those noises were, and they did not sound like dog noises to me."

"You stood outside my door for over an hour last night, listening for noises? Doesn't that strike you as a rather odd thing to do?"

"Well, I was trying to figure out what those noises were."

"And is that why you are looking in the closet? Strange noises in there, too?"

"No, I am trying to find some soap. I don't like your soap."

"You don't like our soap? What's wrong with our soap?"

"I don't like it."

"What kind of soap were you looking for?"

"Well, I don't know."

"Well, let's see here, I see that we have Ivory, Safeguard, Zest and Irish Spring. You can't use any of this?"

"No, I need special soap."

"So what kind of soap do you need?"

"I don't know, but I can't use any of this."

"I can't believe you. You don't like anything. You don't like your room, you don't like our food, you don't like our Christmas tree, you don't like our friends, you don't like our relatives, you don't like our pastor, you don't like our dog, you don't like our Christmas presents, you don't like Alex to leave the house, you don't like anyone to watch television, you won't talk to anyone but you say our conversations are boring, you won't lift a finger to help out, you treat my mother like a servant, you pretend the baby doesn't exist, you haven't said one word to Lizbeth since you walked in the door. And now you don't like our soap!

"IF YOU NEEDED SPECIAL SOAP, YOU SHOULD HAVE BROUGHT IT YOURSELF OR AT LEAST TOLD US IN ADVANCE SO WE COULD GET YOU SOME! NOW WHAT KIND OF SOAP DO YOU NEED? WHAT KIND OF SOAP DO YOU NEED? BECAUSE I'M GOING TO GO TO THE STORE AND GET IT FOR YOU RIGHT NOW! IT IS 6:15, AND THE STORE OPENED AT 6:00, AND I AM GOING TO GET YOU YOUR GOD-DAMN SOAP RIGHT NOW! SO TELL ME, YOU STUPID GIRL, WHAT KIND OF SOAP IS IT YOU NEED?"

Well, Andrew woke everyone up--everyone opened their bedroom doors and came out into the hall to see what was going on, and Anne-Sophie started crying and went back into her room.

And Anne-Sophie left for the airport later than morning, three days earlier than scheduled, "because Andrew had been so mean to her and ruined her Christmas holiday" at least in Lizbeth's funny and snide way of saying it.

So, Silvio, I learned what Andrew meant when he had told me that Genghis Khan would make a favorable impression upon his family after the dreaded Anne-Sophie. And all three of them loved telling different facets of this story. The way they told the story was absolutely hysterical, and clearly "The Tale Of Anne-Sophie" is now one of their favorite "family" stories--I could easily see that. I wish that I had been there at Christmas to observe it all myself.

After dinner, we had to make preparations to get on the road back to Washington, so the first thing we both did was to hold the baby for a bit, one last time, and we both kissed him. We got our stuff together and, while we were doing so, Alec asked Andrew to come with him for a moment. They went into Alec and Lizbeth's bedroom for a few minutes, and then they both came out.

Alec and Lizbeth both told us what a wonderful weekend they had had, and they said we both were much better conversationalists than Tim, which they welcomed. They said we had to come back soon, and see something of New York next time. And when we finally left, Lizbeth kissed and hugged both Andrew and me, and Alec hugged me--the first time he had given me a hug--and he hugged and kissed Andrew over and over. And we left.

And I was very glad that we had spent our three-day weekend in New York. I think that was the best choice for both of us.

On the way home, I asked Andrew what Alec had said to him when they were alone.

He said that Alec had wanted to know what their Dad said on the phone, and that Alec had wanted to know how to respond to certain questions he suspected their Dad would direct to Alec.

"Like what?" I asked.

"Well, Alec had already guessed what our Dad had said" Andrew said "And he just wanted confirmation of that."

"So what did your Dad say?" I asked.

"Well, you can probably guess most of it" Andrew said "From my answers to him."

"And what about what I cannot guess?" I asked.

"He asked me to withhold any intimacy, until he and I talked, in person" Andrew said.

"He really asked you that?" I asked.

"Yes" Andrew said.

"And Alec guessed that?" I asked.

"Yes" Andrew said.

"Why did he ask that?" I asked.

"Oh, it could be for several reasons" Andrew answered. "It could be because he knows your Dad, it could be because he thinks I am too young or too unprepared, it could be because HE is not prepared for this, it could be because he thinks he needs to meet you first, it could be . . .heaven only knows."

"So what did you tell him?" I asked.

"I told him I truly was not prepared to answer that question, and that I would have to think about it" Andrew said.

"So, what do you mean by that, Andrew?" I asked.

"Well, I was trying to tell him . . .I told him I couldn't give him an answer . . .I told him I needed to think before I could provide him with an answer to that question . . .That's all."

"So you are awaiting for your Dad's Seal Of Approval to carry on, and your Dad's Seal Of Approval of me, before we do anything--is that what you are saying?" I asked.

Andrew looked at me, and he looked somewhat hurt, and I immediately said "Oh, Andrew, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way."

"Joshua, I don't know what I'm going to do. You heard what I said to him. I made no representations, no representations of any sort."

Andrew did not say anything for a few minutes, and then he said "I, for one, will be curious to see what YOUR Dad says tomorrow. Aren't you?"

"Sure" I said.

"Well, I am going to make a prediction, right now" said Andrew.

"And your prediction is . . .?"

"That our fathers will speak by phone tomorrow morning, at their offices, before you call your Dad. That they will sound each other out, indirectly, to find out what the other knows or suspects. That when you call your Dad at Noon, he will ask you to withhold intimacy until after Spring Break, and that he will insist that you return to Oklahoma for Spring Break. That tomorrow evening I shall receive a phone call from my Dad and that he will . . .not insist, but very, very strongly encourage . . .that I delay intimacy until after Spring Break, and he will very strongly encourage me to return to Minnesota for Spring Break. That is my prediction . . .And, further . . .in my case alone . . .I believe that my Dad will pressure me to agree not to be intimate with you until . . .I talk to him about it, face to face . . .and until he meets you . . .and perhaps until your father meets me, which my Dad may insist upon. Of course, on that last point, that would require your father's full complicity. And if that happens, then that means, definitely, that they ARE talking to each other, and in great detail, and not in indirect generalities."

"Andrew, I don't think they would go that far" I said.

"Well, you know your Dad, and I don't" he said. "I could be wrong. But I know my Dad . . .and I think that is what he is shooting for."

"Why would he do that?" I asked.

"Because he knows that I am returning to live at home after June 1, and he believes, by buying time, that I will return home and live at home forever and ever, with him and my Mom, guarded from the cares of the world, until I am too old to have sex, at which point it would not matter to him any more, and then he could die peacefully, with his mind at rest. That is what is in his mind."

"And you are going to let him get away with that?" I asked.

"I never said that" Andrew said. "I made a prediction. You asked me what I thought would happen, and I told you what I thought would happen."

"So WHAT are you going to say to your father if he DOES ask those things?" I asked.

"Well, Josh, I am thinking about that as we speak. And I think I know what I am going to say to him."

"Well . . ." I said.

"First, on answering his question, I think I am going to have to tell him, with all due respect, that I am prepared to have intimacy right now, and that if it is of such great importance to him to talk to me face-to-face prior to any intimacy between us, that he had better make flight arrangements as soon as possible and get to Washington in a matter of days. But I am going to make it clear to him that I would provide him with that face-to-face discussion ONLY because of its apparent importance to HIM, and not because of its importance to me."

"And what will he say?" I asked.

"He will say to hold everything for another ten days, and to get myself on a plane to Minneapolis on Friday night, March 2, and he will say that I am merely being difficult, on purpose, by refusing to wait for another ten days, until Spring Break, to have this discussion with him. Of course, among other things, what he is truly hoping for is a cooling down period of two weeks, two weeks that will encompass MY Spring Break and YOUR Spring Break. And I think he will try to sell this idea to your Dad. He can be very convincing."

"You know, you may be right" I said.

"Well, I KNOW that's what he's going to try" said Andrew. "Whether he can sell that idea to your father, I have no idea. But I assure you that that is what is in the back of his mind. And he thinks, by asking me that question today, that I, out of consideration to him, will do nothing . . .no intimacy . . .until he and I talk. He thinks, by virtue of making the request, that I must go along with his thoughts, out of respect for him, whether or not I answer the question. He has put the burden on me, and he knows that fact--boy, does he know that fact. He has sort of made this a point of honor now between us, and he has put the onus on me whether to break that honor or not. Oh, Josh, he's GOOD at this! He knows how to mess with my mind!"

"And you're going to let him get away with this?" I asked.

"I didn't say that" said Andrew. "I just said he is very good at making this an honor issue, and placing the burden on me."

"Well, I think we should make love tonight, Andrew. Let's make love tonight! Then we can make love every night. I want to make love tonight. And forget your father! Forget your father and forget my father, too!" I was getting really irritated, as you can see, Silvio, and tired of so much pondering.

"But I think there's a better way" said Andrew.

"You're still thinking, aren't you?" I asked.

"Yes. What about this? You talk to your father tomorrow, as scheduled. Find out what he has to say to you, and what he wants from you. And LISTEN to him! Josh, LISTEN TO HIM! He might have very good advice for you, or instructions, or whatever you want to call it. He may give you a perspective you had not thought of before, a perspective that will change your way of looking at this. Please listen to what your father has to say."

"And then what?" I asked.

"You call me after you talk to your father. And we discuss what he has had to say to you."

"And then what?"

"And if, after that call, you still want to carry forward, then we make plans to go to Westfields, the minimum-security prison, for next weekend. And if we want to make love while we are at Westfields, we do. And if we don't, then we don't, in which case, no harm, no foul."

"And what about your Dad" I asked. "What are you going to say to him, so that you have not committed an 'honor' violation?"

"If you want us to carry things forward after talking to your Dad, then I will make reservations at Westfields for us. Then I will call my Dad at his office tomorrow afternoon, and tell him that you and I are going out of town this weekend--so he cannot accuse me of sneaking out of town without his knowledge, which was a crock, as he darn well knew that I would most likely be visiting Alec and Lizbeth this weekend--and that I will be unable to provide him with an answer to his question."

"And what will that do?" I asked.

"That tells him two things. First, it tells him that . . . it tells him . . .it tells him that we are probably going to be intimate this coming weekend, but it also tells him that we are not going to be intimate UNTIL the weekend. Second, it tells him that he is not going to get an answer from me on his question, which means that the effective answer is "no", and that I am letting him know that I do not feel bound to him, as a point of honor, on the question any more. He will understand the significance of what I say. He will understand, fully."

"And then . . ." I asked.

"The ball is back in his court. He will argue the proximity of Spring Break, the fact that there is no need to rush things, and anything else he can throw at me. He will be subtle, but very good at making his point, and will try to make me feel very guilty and very disrespectful of him if he does not get what he wants. Oh, he's good at this, I assure you. But I will try to leave the ball in his court."

"Andrew, I don't understand. So, what does all this mean?" I asked.

"It means that, if YOUR father cannot dissuade you tomorrow, that I am prepared to carry forward, unless MY father is able to dissuade me tomorrow, with new and better arguments than the ones he posed today. And we have one great thing in our favor, at least in terms of dealing with my father" Andrew added.

"What's that?" I asked.

"He is very uncomfortable talking about sex" said Andrew "And he talks about it only in the most indirect, opaque way."

"So now I know where you get that trait" I said. "Only teasing."

"So you don't like any of this, do you?" Andrew asked.

"No, Andrew, I don't" I said. "I think you're both crazy. I think we need to make love, and make love now. Tonight. Everything will change as soon as we do. Stop the car!" And I laughed.

"You can wait until this weekend, Josh, can't you?" Andrew asked.

"No, I can't" I said.

"And you do not understand at all how my father, by posing that question, put the burden on me to provide him with an answer, and that, until I provide him with an answer, I am honor-bound not to undertake any actions?" Andrew asked.

"If I were you, I'd call him right now, and give him the answer, and tell him ‘no’, that it's really none of his God-damn business" I said. "You have your cell phone."

Andrew looked at me, Silvio, and there was a gleam in his eye. "You know, Josh, I just might do that" he said. "I am going to pull off at the next rest stop, and let you drive. You know how to drive standard transmission, don't you?" he asked.

"Of course" I said.

"And I will call him while you drive" Andrew said.

And Silvio, that's what we did. Andrew took the next exit on the New Jersey Turnpike, and we traded places and I took the wheel.

Andrew immediately started to call his Dad, and I said "Wait. Wait until I get out on the Turnpike." I said that so that I would have time to get into fifth gear, and then have my right hand free to put my hand on Andrew's knee or his leg or his neck or his head or whatever I thought I needed to touch, while he was on the phone, to remind him that I was now more important to him than his Dad.

Andrew dialed his parents' number and the line was busy. "He's talking to Alec now" Andrew said.

Andrew then dialed Alec's number, and the line was busy. "See, I was right" he said.

Andrew then dialed Lizbeth's cell number and she answered. Andrew did not even say "hello" to her. "Can you do me a favor, Lizbeth?" was the first thing he asked her.

"Ask Alec and your Dad to get off the phone so that you can call home?" she asked.

"Yes" Andrew said.

"Hold on for a second" is what Lizbeth told him, and apparently she told Alec that Andrew wanted to talk to his Dad and that he needed to hang up the phone. She came back to the phone and told Andrew "the line's free" and Andrew thanked her, and he called his Dad.

This call was a lot different than the call I experienced in the afternoon. That three-part call--Andrew beginning by letting his Dad ventilate, Andrew initiating the transition to less than full agreement, and Andrew then making his own arguments--was totally different than this call.

Andrew got straight down to business. "Dad, I have been thinking of the question you asked me to answer, and I told you then that I was not prepared to provide you with an answer at that time. I have been thinking about that question ever since, however, and I am prepared to answer your question now."

And Andrew paused, and his father apparently said something.

Then Andrew said "Thank you, Dad. I appreciate that. As you know, there is only one answer I can give you to that question, and that answer is "no". That is the only possible answer a son can give to a father on a question like you posed, assuming that the necessary formalities on "the birds and the bees" have already been disposed of. And you and I disposed of those particular formalities long ago, and now it is my time to make these sorts of decisions on my own. If I were younger it very well might be different, but I am 25. And at age 25, these sorts of issues are my own to deal with now, and these sorts of decisions are my own to make now. I have always valued your judgments and opinions, and I always WILL value your judgments and opinions--always--but on a particular matter like this, a matter that involves feelings--primarily feelings, if not exclusively feelings--I have no choice but to go with my own judgment here, as it is my feelings that are involved as well as the feelings of another human being who means very, very much to me. That does not necessarily mean that I am making the right judgment, that does not necessarily mean that I am making the best judgment, that does not necessarily mean that I am making the same judgment another person might make under identical circumstances, but that does mean that I am making my own judgment and, on this issue, it MUST be my judgment and mine alone. I am sure you understand that, Dad, and I think, on reflection, you will agree with me."

And Andrew stopped. I thought, Silvio, that Andrew had been extremely eloquent. I was dumbfounded at how eloquent he had been.

Then Andrew said into the phone "I appreciate that, Dad. That is very magnanimous of you. I hope you know that you are the world's best father. You know I love you very much. I could not possibly love you more than I already love you."

And his Dad said something else.

"Well, it is interesting you asked that. I believe that Joshua will be talking to his father tomorrow, because I think that Josh’s father wants to have a serious talk with him. But, Dad, PLEASE keep in mind that we are not at that stage yet. If it gets to that stage, of course I would want you to meet Joshua and to get to know him and to spend lots of time with him. But I fear that you and Josh’s Dad may be way ahead of US in that regard. Way, way ahead of us."

And at this point, Silvio, I put my hand on Andrew' leg and started rubbing it, and I started vigorously shaking my head "no" back and forth.

After listening to his father say something else, Andrew said "Dad, have you forgotten how slow-moving I am in that regard?"

And, Silvio, at hearing this, I started vigorously shaking my head "yes" up and down.

"So, Dad, you have nothing to worry about. Everything will be fine. And I hope my answer is satisfactory to you, and that I have expressed it in a satisfactory fashion. That was my intent."

Then Andrew's Dad said something else.

"Yes, I would love to."

"Hi, Mom. Are you taking care of Dad?"

Andrew talked to his mother for five minutes, but not with reference to anything concerning me or our situation. Andrew's mother obviously did not ask about any of these issues, or even touch upon them.

When they call was over, Andrew put down the phone.

"Yippee!" I started whooping. "You listened to my idea, you son-of-a-gun, and it worked! It worked! It really worked! What do you have to say, 'Baby Brother'?" And I grabbed Andrew's head and started wildly massaging it.

"What do I have to say? I'm exhausted. That's what I have to say. Utterly exhausted."

"Is it always like this, dealing with your father?" I asked.

"More than I would like" said Andrew. "And he is worried that I am not doing the right thing. But he also knows now that this is my step to take, and he withdrew from the battlefield tonight, graciously. As I said to him, that was very magnanimous of him. It was my reference to 'feelings' that did the trick. He understands feelings. He understands the importance of feelings."

"From what I know about him, he has always struck me as ultra-rational, almost devoid of feelings" I said.

"That's because you don't know him" Andrew said. "He is one of the most loving people on the planet. His exterior is very formal, very correct, very cool, very urbane, very considered--but he is a man of the deepest feelings. He has the deepest feelings for my mother and for all three of his children. He has the deepest feelings for Lizbeth and Tim. And, if we stay together, Josh, he will have the deepest feelings for you. And he shows his feelings within the family, but never outside the family. He gives lots of affection, enormous amounts of affection, in his own way."

"How did you know to stress the issue of 'feelings' with him" I asked.

"Because my mother's family did not want her to marry him, thinking he was not good enough for her" Andrew said.

And, Silvio, Andrew began to cry. Literally, tears flowed out of his eyes down his face. I was shocked. I had never seen him cry before, and I thought that Andrew would be incapable of crying so nakedly. I put my arm on his shoulder, and I wanted to kiss him, but I had to keep my eyes on the Turnpike.

"Do you want me to pull over?" I asked.

"No" Andrew said. "And excuse me for being so silly, but things got to me for a minute there."

And after a few seconds, Andrew said "I will explain to you why I cried, if you want to know."

I said "Well, if you want to tell me. You don't have to, Andrew, if you do not want to."

"No, it does not bother me. Things just got to me there for a minute."

He paused again, and took a deep breath.

"Short version. Very, very short version. My father came from a very poor family, farmers. They had no money and he had to put himself through school and then he had to put himself through law school. He always had to work while he was in school, sometimes at two and even three jobs just to scrape by.

"He met and fell in love with my mother, and she fell in love with him. Her family thought that he was interested, not in her, but in her money. But they were wrong, totally wrong. My father was not interested in her money, he was interested in her. He has always worshipped my mother and he has always had the deepest feelings for her. That is still true today.

"Her family did everything possible to dissuade my mother from marrying my father. They were very mean to him and very insulting and very demeaning, even vicious. It was my father's deep feelings for my mother that got him through those early years. Otherwise, he could never have survived that horrible time.

"Of course, they got married and had three kids, but still my mother's family acted as if my father was dirt, despite the fact that he was more intelligent and had more character and was more hard-working than just about anyone in the Twin Cities, let alone any of my mother's own siblings. And my mother's own siblings always have treated my father horribly, as did her own mother and father. In fact, her own parents never visited Mom and Dad's first house until Alec arrived, and they only came because they wanted to see their grandchild.

"My Mom's family, many of whom are now deceased, never made peace with my father, but they all lived to see what my father did with himself, and they all lived to see what a happy household and what a happy family he and my mother had created, on their own. The household and family my mother and father created were far better than the households and families my mother's siblings achieved, and in their later years those siblings grew very bitter over this fact. They could not help but see that my Mom and Dad were so happy, with each other and with their children and with their lives in the community.

"And what got my Dad through the worst of those years was his feelings for my mother, without which he could not have kept going. He is a man who understands the importance of deep feelings.

"And when I mentioned feelings to him, Joshua, and pointed out the importance of feelings in dealing with the question he posed to me, he understood. He understood, because of his own feelings. And that's why he dropped the issue.

"And I was crying, Joshua, for two reasons: first, I was crying because I was going through, in my mind, everything my father had suffered through; second, I was crying because I felt so ashamed in using the tool of 'feelings' with him in making my argument--I feel that I took advantage of him by using that tool, and I feel so ashamed, because I fear that somehow I cheapened that discussion and misdirected it to my own ends."

And Andrew was weeping, uncontrollably, when he said this, and I started crying, too, because I felt so badly for him. He obviously has the deepest feelings and the deepest respect for his father, and I admire that very, very much. I love my father, too, Silvio, but I have nothing like the deep bond with my father that Andrew shares with his father.

After about ten minutes of silence while getting over this point, Andrew said to me "And, Joshua, I need to tell you something, so that you don't think I am some sentimental and weepy fool."

"Tell me" I said.

"My father WAS entirely wrong on the issue he was raising with me, entirely wrong, and he DID need to be told that he was entirely wrong. Don't get me wrong, I made the right decision in telling him that I could not give him what he wanted. I have no regrets about that. I only regret that I had to use a cheap shot to make him see that he was wrong. Alas, nothing else would have worked--he would not have dropped the issue. I would still be talking to him, right now, otherwise."

We listened to music for the rest of the trip. We listened to Haydn symphonies--you know, "cheerful, ear-catching reflections of The Age Of Enlightenment, free of the mournful Weltschmerz and Wanderlust of so much 19th-Century German music", to quote Andrew.

We stopped in Maryland to get some coffee and use the washrooms, and Andrew gave me a wonderfully cheerful kiss and an affectionate arm-and-neck hug before we got out of the car.

Then we continued back to Washington, with Andrew driving again, and we went to my house, and we turned in almost as soon as we arrived. It was almost 1:30 a.m., and we talked quietly in bed for 30 minutes, between kissing and nestling against each other.

Andrew told me what a wonderful weekend he had had with me, but he said that for next weekend he wanted to spend it all with me, alone, and that he thought Westfields was ideal for that. "We don't even have to mix with any of the other prison inmates, except in the dining room" he joked. "How do you think that sounds?" he asked me.

"I'm ready to go there tonight" I told him.

"Well, tonight's Monday, so can you wait until Friday?" he asked me. "That's only four more days."

"I'll wait" I said.

And he kissed me, and kissed me, and kissed me, and he put most of his body on top of mine, and he put his arms beneath me, and we went to sleep.