Brian drove home thinking of Justin’s comments.  He debated with himself whether he should ask Ted about worthiness.  Deciding that the conversation wasn’t an urgent one, he parked his car in the lot and went upstairs to his loft.  After resetting the alarm, he glanced automatically to the liquor cabinet and walked over to it, looking inside. It was empty.  Ted and he had poured out the liquor the night before and it was not like he lived in a magical place where it would be replenished by a liquor genie. Last night’s impromptu disposal seemed so far away, almost like it happened to someone else.  Life moved fast at times and this was one of those times. He hadn’t had a drink in almost three weeks, and the craving wasn’t really there. He wondered if he was like Pavlov’s dog; walking into Woody’s or Babylon equaled automatically going for a drink.  It was obvious that he had some ingrained reactions as evidenced by his automatic move to the liquor cabinet upon walking into his home. Walking away from the empty liquor cabinet, he picked up the mail that he had laid on top of it and brought it to the coffee table by the couch.

Pavlov’s dog.  Where the hell did that come from?  I’m not some high school kid studying psychology and I’m sure not a shrink.  Therapy is for wuss’ and I’m definitely not a wuss. But, is AA some type of therapy, albeit without the fucking shrink?  

Brian shut down his thoughts and sat on the couch. Rubbing his thumb and forefinger across the bridge of his nose, he leaned forward and placed his forearms on his thighs.  He took several deep breaths and then stayed in that position for several minutes. Sitting up, he removed his fingers from the bridge of his nose and allowed his mind to wander again.

Shit!.  AA is a therapy group and …. What the fuck.  I always thought therapy was mumbo-jumbo and didn’t have any merit, but AA is really helping me.  For the first time in forever, I don’t feel like shit when I wake up in the morning. I’m not hungover, and I’m more productive in the mornings.  Used to be I would take several hours and at least 4 cups of coffee before I felt the fuzz dissipate from my brain. Between Justin and the various leaders of the group, I’m beginning to evaluate my life. Justin’s got me looking at my relationships.  The “R” word that I didn’t believe in is evidently real and alive even in my closed world. I never doubted that Gus was important to me, but now I’m beginning to evaluate other people and their importance in my life. Well, if there is one thing I have learned from these last few weeks, it is that nothing happens overnight.  If we could all snap our fingers or blink and our troubles would be gone, there would be no need for AA. Since that isn’t happening, I think I’m done contemplating my life.  

Brian checked the door to ensure that it was locked and the alarm was set.  He glanced somewhat with regret mixed with a little longing at the empty liquor cabinet and walked toward the bedroom.  Placing a clean set of casual clothing in a small neatly folded pile on the dresser, he made a mental note to take them with him tomorrow.  He threw his barely worn clothing in the hamper and went to the bathroom to complete his bedtime routine. While setting his alarm for 7:00, he glanced at the clock and realized it was almost 11:00.  He yawned and realized that while it was much earlier than he used to go to bed, he was actually tired. Maybe thinking made you tired, but he was done thinking for today. Closing his eyes, he went to sleep.

Brian was at work before 8:00. Having woken up before his alarm and feeling rested, he decided to start his day early.  His appointment with the lawyer was this afternoon and he wanted Ted to gather all the documents pertaining to the financial support that he’d provided to Gus through the years.  Somewhere in the last 24 hours, he’d come to the conclusion that while he did not want a specific custody agreement, he did want a guarantee for access to Gus. If that meant a legally binding document, then that is what he would insist on.  He was done with Lindsay’s mercurial ideas regarding his access to Gus. He didn’t want her to have the power to deny him access to Gus when he stopped the bank of Brian. 

When he arrived, Ted was walking into his office, admiring the new picture of him and Blake that they had taken a few weeks ago, and Brian followed him inside.  Ted placed his cup of coffee on the coaster and sat down.  

“Bri, you’re here early today. Everything okay?”

“Actually, I’m sleeping great.  Evidently going to bed when you’re not drunk or high has the distinct advantage of higher quality sleep, and waking up without the feeling that you’ve been run over by a truck,” Brian responded.  “Who would've thunk?” He felt comfortable with Ted and was at a point in his sobriety journey that he could joke about some of the pitfalls and negative aspects of his drinking.  

“Yes.  I don’t really remember much of the time I was using, so I imagine it was not a pretty sight.  I do vaguely remember the first few days in rehab where I thought that I would do anything to not feel the pain of withdrawal.  Luckily, you didn’t use drugs to the extent I did. I mean, well you did imbibe in the alphabet soup at Babylon but…”

“I get it, Ted.  No need to go into detail.  Suffice it to say that I’m not using now and hope to stay that way.  Attending AA has been enlightening, to say the least. I’m not here to discuss sobriety, although I have some questions in that regard for a later time.  I’m meeting with the lawyer today, and I want you to gather all the information on Gus’s support. I know you showed me the spreadsheets, but I’d like a few months of canceled checks to bring with me too.”

“Sure thing, Bri. What time is your appointment?”

“3:30.  I’ve got to leave about 2:45.”

“I’ll have it to you by noon so you can look it over before the appointment.”

Brian left to find coffee. Evidently, even when he woke early and wasn’t hungover, he still wanted his morning jolt of caffeine.

Brian had a busy morning, as always, and was surprised when Ted knocked on his door around noon.

“More papers for me to sign?  I swear, I really should just invest in a stamp with my name on it,” Brian said as he watched Ted walk in with a stack of papers.

“No signature needed.  These are the copies of the canceled checks you asked about this morning.”  Ted laid the stack on Brian’s desk. “ I brought a manilla envelope for you to put them in after you’ve reviewed them.  Wouldn’t want anyone getting those account numbers.”

“Thanks.  I’ll look at them once I’ve finished this email.  I thought email was supposed to make our lives easier and less cumbersome.  I think it has done the opposite. Seems that everyone thinks they need to update me every time someone makes even a tiny adjustment to a document.  I think I spend 25% of my day reading emails.” Brian said, lamenting the necessary evil.

“Let me know if you have any questions.  I’ve got a conference call at 2:00, but I should be available until that time,” Ted said as he turned to leave.  

Brian finished writing the email in question, picking up the stack of papers Ted had placed on his desk.  

There were checks made out to Franklin Elementary school for $125.00 every week from September through May.  These were written for several years and Brian assumed they were for daycare. There were checks almost every month made out to Lindsay with various explanations in the memo line.  Some listed clothing and sporting equipment while others stated miscellaneous. He doubted that Ted would use that explanation; therefore he deduced that Lindsay gave him some plausible reason that she needed the money.  As he reviewed the columns, he was surprised at the large amount of money he was giving her for Gus, especially when she consistently lamented that raising him was very expensive. He thought about Ted’s earlier comment that his sister only received $400 from her “ex” and she had two children.  Surely, with the amount of support he was providing, the courts would see that he was supporting Gus and hopefully that would mean he had rights to be a part of his life.  

Realistically, he knew that as long as he was attending AA every night, his interactions with Gus were still limited during the week, but he wondered if he would always need to attend AA.  Justin had stated that he’d been sober for a year and obviously he still attended. Brian wondered how long a person continued their involvement with AA. He understood the necessity of attendance at this juncture in his recovery, but he hadn’t thought about the long term need to be involved.  He put that on the list of things to talk to Justin about at some point in the future. He knew he wasn’t ready to contemplate stopping his attendance.

But if his attendance could be cut down to several times a week instead of every day, he would be free to spend more time with Gus.  He wondered if that was something he wanted. He realized that he honestly did not know the answer, as he’d never thought about being more involved in the boy’s life.  When Gus was young, Lindsay had always pushed for him to be an active father, but he really didn’t have an interest in doing so. He wasn’t sure when that had changed, but somewhere along the line, it became important to see Gus on a regular basis and for him to know Brian.  Brian knew that Gus looked forward to their time together and never left without asking when he would see him again. He hadn’t expected to enjoy being a father. Since Gus was the driving force in his journey for sobriety, he admitted that it was important to him. Brian never did things he didn’t want to do.  

He had thought enough about the “what ifs” involving Gus and their time together, right now he was only interested in protecting his continued access to his son.  Gathering all the papers, he placed them back in the manilla envelope, and placed the envelope in his briefcase. The irony of the gesture did not elude him. He had purchased the briefcase in order to transport work back and forth from his office to his home.  Now that he wasn’t coming home at 1:00 every morning, he was able to get the majority of his work done at his office. Now he was using the briefcase to transport documents that would once again potentially fill his time in the evening, albeit with a different type of activity, hanging out with his son.  

“Cynthia, I’ll be gone the rest of the afternoon.  Unless Kinnetik is burning down, I’ll see you in the morning,” he said as he walked out of the building.  

As he drove to the lawyers office, he spent the time thinking about what he wanted regarding his access to Gus.  Realistically, he knew he did not want full custody of Gus, but having him more than a few weekends a month would be nice.  Since Gus was ten, he usually went to bed around 9:00. Brian didn’t get home from AA until 10:00 or later because he and Justin went for coffee afterward.  On the weekends, he had been attending a meeting earlier so he could make it to Sunday dinner at Debbie’s. He knew there were meetings during the day and wondered if he could find one that met his schedule.  Brian wondered if an early morning or lunch time meeting would work. Maybe he could attend one in the late afternoon and be home in time for Gus and he to eat dinner. Another option would be to hang out with Gus after he ate dinner and then have him home in time for bed.  As Brian thought about all the options, he realized he was getting ahead of himself and needed to guarantee his access to Gus before he started planning when he would attend AA meetings.  

He’d eventually have to tell Lindsay, but he wanted assurance that she couldn’t use his previous behavior against him.  He understood her twisted logic all too well. Even though she knew he drank, she would suddenly decide that the accident that resulted in his wrecking his car made him unsafe for Gus to be around.  Even though that logic would be just the opposite of the truth. Now that he was not even drinking a beer at the soccer fields or any other time, he was more aware of the potential for danger. She seemed to “know and not know” about his drinking and the potential hazards.  Now, that he was sober, she would try and get high and mighty and worry about Gus’ safety.

Arriving at the building where Beroes Law Center was located, he parked his car, grabbed his briefcase and walked into the lobby.  The lobby was illuminated by glass windows on all sides. There were large planters in the corners with an array of colorful flowers.  In the middle of the lobby was a large Chihuly sculpture. He’d been to an exhibit of the man’s work with Lindsay, and admired his skill and talent.  His glass works had a distinct look to them and he was able to pick them out easily. 

Maybe this was a sign that this was the right place for him to be.  He walked over to the marquee that listed the occupants of the building and searched until he located Beroes.  Taking the elevator to the 7th floor, he walked out to see that the firm had the entire floor. The administrative assistant at the front desk wore a Vera Wang dress in deep blue and her hair was neatly cut and styled.  While Brian was not attracted to women, he did notice them. Cynthia was always dressed professionally, but added a statement necklace or interesting earrings to make her stand out. She looked up as Brian exited the elevator and smiled.  

“Welcome to Beroes.   How may I help you?”

“I’m Brian Kinney and I have an appointment at 3:30.”

She clicked on her computer, opening the calendar and finding the appointment listing.  

“Yes.  Have a seat and I’ll let Kara know you are here.”  She motioned to the silver chairs that were located next to the wall.  

Brian sat in the chair, looking at the magazines laying on the table in front of the chairs.  They were neatly laid out so that the customer could see the titles. He didn’t pick up any of them, but chose to scrutinize the lobby.  A business’ lobby portrayed a lot of information about the company. A lobby that was sparse with few amenities spoke of a business that was cutting corners and may not have the resources to provide quality service.  Just as a man’s clothing portrayed to the world his status; a lobby of a business portrayed their success. Kinnetik had bold furnishing and expensive fixtures. Cynthia, his second in command was always dressed impeccably as was the receptionist that greeted the customers.  Image was of utmost importance when your business was marketing other companies image and products.  

There were several bold abstract paintings on the wall, adding color to the lobby.  Making a mental note to identify the artist before he left, he waited to be called back to the office.  He was not an art aficionado, but recognized when an artist’s work spoke to him. The pieces were a combination of boldness but reassuring at the same time.  He thought that he might like to have a piece of artwork for Kinnetik like the ones on the wall.

He met with people all day, but he was always the one in charge.  He had the ideas, the power to convince his clients that they needed what he offered.  Here, he was the client and not in charge. He wasn’t sure how this would play out; however, he knew this was the right move, the one he needed to make at this time.  

Before he could mull over the potential outcomes of the meeting any longer, a tall, brunette with shoulder length hair appeared in the lobby and walked over to him.  Her Armani black wool pants were perfectly tailored and paired with a deep blue blouse and black classic blazer. She reached out her hand to shake Brian’s hand. He stood up.

“Mr. Kinney, I’m Kera.  Welcome to Beroes.”

Brian shook her hand, noticing the firm handshake.  

Kera said, “We will meet in my office.  Please follow me.”

Kera walked down the hallway and stopped at the last office on the left. She motioned for Brian to sit in one of the client chairs, a large burgundy chair with padding on the arms and back.  It was surprisingly comfortable.   

“Can I get you a coffee or water?”

“Coffee would be fine,” Brian said. 

“Do you want cream or sugar in it?”

“Sugar, 3 packets and 1 cream,” he said as he thought of Justin’s comments regarding his sugar addiction.  He smiled ruefully when he thought of their daily coffee consumption.

Kera walked to the coffee station and prepared Brian’s coffee, handing him a large ceramic mug with the Beroes logo emblazoned on it.  It was warm and smelled delicious. He took a sip and smiled at the perfect combination of sugar, cream and coffee.  

Kera picked up a manilla file folder that had a typed label with Kinney on it.  She opened the file and took out the small stack of loose leaf paper, placing them on the desk.  She picked up her own mug of coffee and took a sip, placing it on the coaster to her right.

“You contacted our firm to discuss a visitation concern.  Tell me about the situation.”

“I want to guarantee my access to my son.”

“Can you tell me more about your concerns?”

“It’s complicated.”

“It always is.  If it was easy, you wouldn’t be sitting in my office.”

Brian was not one to beat around the bush and was surprised at his curt responses.  This was not a court of law and he wasn’t watching some tv show. 

“I stopped drinking a few weeks ago and when the mother of my son finds out, I’m concerned that she will make it more difficult to see him.” 

“Congratulations,”  She said. “However, I’m confused.  Usually, the scenario is just the opposite.  The parent who isn’t drinking limits access to the parent that is drinking,” Kera said.  She had many clients who had substance abuse concerns, but usually the parent who wasn’t using was pushing for limited access of the parent who was using.  “If I understand you, your concerned that she will limit your access now that you aren’t drinking.” 

“Lindsay, that is Gus’ mom doesn’t know that I’ve stopped drinking.  She would try and twist my sobriety into a reason that I shouldn’t have access to Gus.  I know that normal people would be thrilled that their child would be in a safer place with a parent who didn’t drink.  I could see Lindsay spouting statements like, ‘I don’t know if you should have Gus; you might be tempted to drink and I want him safe.  I could also see her wife saying that I was reckless as evidenced by my totalling my car and therefore I shouldn’t have access to Gus.”

Kera wrote the information on the loose paper and made some notes to the side.  

“Is Lindsay your ex- wife?”

“No,” Brian said as he laughed.  He knew Lindsay had visions of them as a cute little family, complete with the 2.2 children and the white picket fence, but he was gay.  “She’s a lesbian. I agreed to be a sperm donor so her and her partner could have a child. Originally, I was providing the DNA, but not raising him.  However, when he was born, Lindsay pushed me to be an active parental figure in his life.” He took a drink of his coffee. Kera appeared to be taking notes of the conversation.  

“My concern is that I can’t count on her to let me spend time with Gus.  She is mercurial, alternately deciding I’m a good influence and pushing my involvement in his life, to deciding that my behavior is dangerous and I shouldn’t be around him.”  Brian looked around the room noticing that the paintings on the wall were similar to the work in the lobby. Making a mental note to find out about the artist, he brought his attention back to the conversation. 

“Okay.  Let me make sure I understand your concerns.  You want continued access to your son and you are concerned that your friend, his mother, will limit the access as a result of your new sobriety.”

“Yes.”

“Did you sign any parental rights papers before the insemination?”

“No.  They had me shoot my junk in a cup and then Mel used a turkey baster.”  Brian shuddered when he thought of his jizz being shot up Lindsay. Female anatomy was just gross and he would leave it to the Lesbians. 

“Do you know if there was ever a DNA test to verify that the child is yours?”

“He is the spitting image of me.  No one could deny he was mine,” Brian said, the pride evidenced in his voice.  He smiled when he thought of the handsome young man, and fast forwarded several years to see him as a young man taking over Kinnetik.  The two of them would be a force to be reckoned with.

“Do you provide any monetary support to his mother for his care?”

Brian picked up his briefcase and placed it on his lap.  He clicked the locks and took out the manilla envelope, handing it to Kera.  “Those are copies of cancelled checks that I have written in the past year for Gus’ care.  I provide a lot of financial support for him. That is another reason I’m concerned. Now that I’m sober, I’ve been reviewing my life and see that his mother appears to be using me as the ‘bank of Brian’.  I provide money for after school care, sporting equipment, clothing and other items, yet my son is frequently asking for the two of us to go shopping as his mothers tell him they don’t have the money to buy him the item.”  

Brian grimaced as he thought of Lindsay’s machinations.   ‘Oh Brian, can you write a check for Gus’ new cleats, he’s outgrown his old ones.  Brian, can you write a check for Gus’ after school program, we’re running a little short this month.  Brian, can you write a check…..’

“I’ve decided to stop giving Lindsay money for Gus and buying the items directly.  That will piss her off too. She would probably limit my access to Gus unless I forked over some cash.  I’m done supporting her and her wife. They both have good jobs and shouldn’t rely on me to pay their bills.”

Kera continued to write notes for a few minutes and then looked at Brian, smiling.  “We’ll have to do a DNA test to verify that the child is yours, but it appears that you have a good legal foundation for maintaining your access to your son.”

Brian leaned forward and opened his briefcase again, taking out a legal pad and pen to take notes.

Kera said,

“1.  There was no legal agreement before you donated.  Any time a known sperm donor donates, there should be a legal contract specifying his involvement or lack thereof with the child.  

2.  The insemination did not take place in a clinic.  Having a medical professional involved holds more credence.

3.  In Pennsylvania, genetics determines legal parentage, even if your name is not on the birth certificate.

4.  Since there was no contract prior to insemination relinquishing your parental rights, a court may enforce full parental obligations on you.”  Kera pointed out each statement by touching her index finger to her fingers on the opposite hand as she ticked off each point.

Brian smiled and nodded his head as Kera ticked off each key point.  He wrote down the information and starred each point.  

“Basically, Mr. Kinney, it appears that your friends do not have any rights to prevent you from seeing your son.  There was no legal contract written prior to insemination stating who would be the parents raising the child. In addition, your checks show a history of financial support for the child.  According to your report, you spend time with him at the request of his mother. All of these points to their treatment of you as a parent to your son. You would be within your rights to take them to court for guaranteed visitation.”

“What about my drinking and wrecking my car?  Could they use that to keep him away from me?”  Brian wanted reassurance that his past behavior would not harm his access to Gus.

“No.  In fact, your AA involvement would help your situation if they chose to fight you.  Do you have proof of your attendance? Do you have a sponsor? Anyone that can vouch for you?”

“Yes.  I do have a sponsor and he has attended every meeting with me for the last 3 weeks,” Brian said.  He was glad that he had someone who could vouch for him. He was really happy that he had taken that leap and chosen Justin as a sponsor.  Their friendship was changing his life, one day at a time.

“Mr. Kinney.  If you believe that your child’s mother will try to limit your access to him, I would encourage you to present your case in court.  While I’m fairly certain your case shows obvious support and involvement in your son’s life, a legal opinion would guarantee your access.  This way if they attempted to limit or forbid you access, you would already have legal precedent on your side.”

Brian thought about her suggestion. He would definitely sleep better at night knowing his access to Gus was legally guaranteed.  “What would that involve? Would there be a court trial?”

“In Pennsylvania, genetics determines legal parentage.  All we would need to do is verify that Gus is your son. Since there is no legal contract to dispute, in the eyes of our state you are legally responsible for him even if you are not listed on the birth certificate. If the donation were anonymous, it would be much more difficult.  But in that situation there would be medical intervention and witness.”

“So, how do I do that?  And what would be the next step?”

“First, you would need to verify his DNA.  There are many labs that perform the test for child support disputes.  I have a list of labs that can complete the work..” Kera pulled open her bottom desk drawer and slid the file folders to the front until she located the one with the information she wanted.  Pulling out the folder, she looked through the papers until she found a list of labs in the area, and handed it to Brian.

“Once we verify that he is your son, we could ask the court to provide an opinion regarding your legal rights.  Since there was no contract prior to insemination, and you are the known donor, it is highly unlikely that the court would not grant you equal access to your son.”

“Lindsay is going to be pissed. I can see it now as she bats her eyes at the judge and tries to convince them that no papers were signed as it was between friends and she knew I didn’t want to be a father,” Brian said, hearing Lindsay’s whine and pretend innocent ploys.

“It doesn’t matter.  The law is the law, and in Pennsylvania, even if she had you sign papers regarding your relinquishing your rights, it doesn’t matter.  You knew you were providing sperm. The other biological parent has encouraged you to be involved in the child’s life and you can prove significant financial support for the child.  The law sees it as black and white. She solicited your sperm for a child and she is treating you as a part time father.”

“Our consultative hour is almost up, Mr. Kinney.  Do you wish to proceed?”

“Yes.  How much is this going to cost me?  Not that Gus isn’t worth every penny, but I just want to know.”

“This is a pretty straight forward case.  I charge $500 for the initial court filing. This is not a very complicated case.  My fee will be $3000. I estimate that I will not need to spend more than 10 hours on the case.”

“$3000 for my peace of mind and guaranteed access to Gus is excellent,” Brian said, realizing he spent almost that much in providing support for Gus every couple of months.

“I’ll have my assistant walk you to the anteroom and you can make financial arrangements,” Kera said as she stood up and shook Brian’s hand.

“Thank you.  I’ll look at the list you provided and take Gus for the DNA test this weekend.  I’ll have him on Friday and Saturday.”

“Great.  Have the results sent to my office and I’ll call you when we receive them.”  She returned to her desk and hit the intercom button. “Molly, can you come in and draw up a simple custody plan for Mr. Kinney.  I anticipate 10 hours should be sufficient.”

Brian gathered his briefcase, making sure it was locked and closed.  When another woman wearing a Donna Karran print dress came in, he followed her to the anteroom.  She sat down at the desk and clicked on the computer, booting it up. After a few clicks, she brought up the standard child visitation contract. She asked Brian for his information and typed it into the form.  When she was done, she printed it and gave it to him to review. He looked it over and signed his name.  

Molly said, “I will need $500 for today’s visit.”

Brian took out his wallet and gave her a black Mastercard.  

She clicked on a few screens until a payment screen opened.  She typed in the information and ran his card through a square.  She presented him with a signature screen and he finger signed it.  

“We’re done.  Let me walk you out.”

Brian sighed a deep breath of relief.  He would be able to have full access to Gus.  Hopefully, this process wouldn’t take long. “Oh, by the way, I admired the art work on the walls.  Do you happen to know the name of the artist?” Brian asked as he was being escorted to the front lobby.

“Yes.  It’s Justin Taylor.  He is very talented. He’s my brother.  I’ll let him know he has another art fan.  We get a lot of compliments on his work.”  

Brian looked at the young woman, trying to see the resemblance to Justin.  He knew Justin didn’t get along with his father, but he never talked about any of his other family.  6 Degrees of separation was starting to have a new meaning for Brian. He wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing.  Right now, he was just relieved and wanted to go home and celebrate.  

He stopped short when he realized that a drink was not on the menu of acceptable celebratory options.  Maybe just this once? He thought as he walked out of the office building and walked to his car.

TBC