The Novel

Sitting at my desk reading over the final pages of the last installment for a story that took me over 12 books to write, least to mention 10 years of my life to create, a melancholy feeling rushed over me. 

I was all too happy to know the massive amount of work and creative thinking that went into the development of the main character’s journey had finally come to an end.  My soul was at ease, finally letting the story come to an end.   I have tried in the past to bring this story to an end, but my heart just kept telling me that there was more to write and explore.

I stood up and walked over to the liquor trolly that was in my home office and poured myself a small glass of Scotch.  Holding the glass up to my nose to take in a whiff of the golden liquid reminiscing about the tour of the Dalmore Distillery where I purchased this select bottle in Scotland. 

The celebration was short lived before Drew, my personal assistant popped his head in and told me that the “Demon” was waiting on the phone for me.  The “Demon” being my agent.  Marc Holmes, one of the tops in the business and a real slave driver.  You would think that I worked for him instead of the other way around.

Marc actually was one of my “Good Guys”.  We met in college at Ball State University in Indiana.  While he was attending for prelaw, I was still trying to figure out what was in my future.  I was there on a full athletic scholarship for diving.  I also had a scholarship for academics to Indiana University but choose BSU.  The first day that I met Marc, was outside of the admissions building while waiting to get my dorm room assignment. 

I had just admitted to myself that I was gay with in the last half of my senior year at high school and just started to let myself really look at other men with a different set of eyes.  Marc was about 6ft, around 170lbs and had these beautiful Carmel colored eyes that I could easily get lost in.  His hair was sun bleached light brown from this past summer along with his tan making him look like he just walked off the beach.  He was wearing just a pair of cut off sweats with a loose-fitting tank top.  I could see his left nipple poking out occasionally. 

“Nick, stop this!” I yelled at myself in the back of my mind. 

This whole day I felt like a kid in a candy store or a child on Christmas morning… too much eye candy everywhere I looked, thank god that I was wearing my dark Oakley glasses.  Just pray that no one could pick up on the direction of my eyes.  Man, he was beautiful. 

He is still beautiful to this day.  While that was over twelve years ago, the years did nothing but enhance the man from the inside out.  He is also the ringleader for my very close and tight group of friends that we have coined the name “Good Guys”.  If I were to say that I had a best friend, that title goes to Marc, second place would be a toss up between Adam, Marc’s husband, or Drew, my personal assistant.  While Marc and Adam were in the same year as me, Drew was two years younger and started when were in our third year.

After BSU, Marc when up north to the University of Michigan to complete his law degree.  He made a concerted effort the last year of school to focus on contract law, once he graduated and passed his Bar, Marc decided on a career as a talent agent.  He is the reason that I started writing and was the force behind the collection that is finally coming to an end.

Picking up the phone, “My good man, to what honor should I relegate this importuned call?”

Marc’s booming laugh carried over the phone, “just checking to see if everything is in order and to solidify tonight’s dinner plans.”

With a tear of relief and joy building up in my left eye threating to fall down my cheek, I took a deep breath and simply said, “Ethan had a wonderful life”.  Ethan was the character whose journey I have detailed through twelve novels. 

“Are you sure that this is the last, or do you think that you have left any room for more?” Marc somberly asked.

“I am sure, I gave him everything I could and gave him everything I could never get.”  Slamming back the rest of the scotch in my glass and burning the back of my thought, “I will be there at eight tonight my friend.”

“Please don’t tell me I need to call Drew back and have him whip you into shape?

“No, there is peace.  I feel content this time.  Normally when I finish a book, there is a pull at my heart that the story was incomplete.  Not this time.  That feeling is not here.  If anything is here, it is the dread that I don’t know what I am going to do next.”

“Just hang in there, enjoy the moment, it will be the first-time sense BSU that you are taking a break.  You know we both love you and we are so very proud of you.”

“Thank you, Marc, we will see you tonight.”  I told him before hanging up.

I was pouring myself another drink when Drew popped into the office.  I nodded my head at the bottle while looking in his direction hinting at an offer for one for him.  “Is that the bottle that you have been holding back for several years?”

“It is.”  Pouring one for Drew and handing it to him.  He took it and held it up looking at the scotch swishing in the glass.

“Cheers to a wonderful epic adventure of our Ethan”, he said while raising his glass towards me with a slight smile and a fast wink my direction, our glasses taped together.

“Why does it feel so anti climatic?  Kind of like, dull.  A little hum drum!” I asked.

Drew, only the second person to really know me inside and out, hit the nail on the head, “Because, Ethan is you.”

After a long stint of silence, he looked at me, gave me a big hug and just held me.  Drew was more than my personal assistant, he was a true friend, my little brother, my partner in crime and most of all at this time, Drew was my pillar.  The strength that I needed to have in my life over the past year.  He has kept me going and keeping me on a schedule.  Between him and Marc being my guard rails this final time with Brent, they managed to keep me grounded.  I do thank both from the bottom of my heart for keeping me distracted.

Maybe that is why this time is different finishing a book.  There is no Brent in the picture. 

At the age of 32, I have known Brent Lucas for over half my life.  Meeting him as scrawny sophomores in high school.  Becoming my love interest later in our senior year.  During our junior year at BSU, becoming each other’s secret.  With a whole bunch of on again/ off again starts and stops only to end up, here.  Nothing.  Going forward at least.

Drew snapped me back to reality by sliding his hand to my right butt check and grabbing it, catching me off guard.  “Should I call HR on this offence?”

Chuckling, he looked at me and said, “You assigned me to that roll too.  Sir.”

We both laughed as I took his glass and poured us another round.

“Nick, you have a couple of hours before we need to get ready for tonight's festivities, is there anything you would like to do before hand?”

Handing him his glass, I contemplated what I was going to do.  Then it hit.  “Yeah, I am going to take a walk, should only take about an hour.  Can you make sure that the driver knows the schedule?  I have a finished draft sitting in the cue, can you send that over to Marc so that he can do his legal stuff to it before sending it to the publishers.  Let the rest of the staff know that they have the rest of the week off.  Call over to bakery and set up a daily pick up for me for the rest of the week.  One last thing, Please don’t hate me.  Call the airport and have them put my pilot on a 48 hour stand by.”

“Nick.  Please don’t be thinking of something stupid”.

“I’m not.” I took in a breath of fresh air, jumped up, grabbing my jacket, and headed towards the front door.  “Be back in a bit.”

Stepping out on to W 54th St. in Manhattan and into the late afternoon spring air, heading to my favorite little hideaway.  A few blocks away from my house was this little traditional family Italian restaurant.  Momma Tess was who I was looking for.  Soon as I walked into the door, she was there with open arms and a smile that would make even the gods of old bow their heads in honor.

“My Nicky, my boy.  Sunshine walks amongst us again.  Come give me a hug.”  Wrapping me with a hug that only Nana’s and Mothers know how to give.  If Drew and Marc were my pillars, Momma Tess would be my foundation.

“Nicky, what brings you here at this time of the day?  Usually, we don’t see you till much later”, she said pulling me into the bar area.

“Momma, I finished.”  I let out a little bit of air from my lungs. 

“Is it truly the end for Ethan?” she asked.

“After 12 books, it is done.”  I replied.  “I don’t think there is much more development I can do for him.  I gave him a happy ending.  One day I hope might mirror mine.”

Before another word could be said, Uncle Sal, Tess’s brother, and the bartender, walked over with a tray of shots for us.  Momma handed one to me and raised her glass, “Salute, to my boy, the writer.  L’amor che move il sole e l’altre stelle.”

While raising my glass and my eyebrow, I downed the shot.  That went down way to smooth.  It was more than Sal’s regular Lemon Cello shots that he usually concocts.  Looking at him with a smile, “Sal, you need to bottle that.  That is something I could get used to.”

“Na, Tess would not hear of it.  Besides, it is only for special occasions.”  He said as he walked away to take care of something at the other end of the bar.

I looked at Momma, “May I ask, what was that in Italian that you said.  You know I am way too rusty to pull all of that together.”

With a sparkle in her eyes, she grabbed my hands into hers and gently said, “You, my Nicky, have moved so many mountains to clear a path for the journey that you have set forth for your Ethan, only love could have done that.  Only love could have written that.  You did that.  I am so proud of you and can’t wait to read your book.  But as always, please make sure I get one signed by you.”

“I would never forget to do such a thing like that for you.”  I gave her a hug.

After what seemed like ten minutes, I was past my time to head back home, I knew that Drew was going to be going out of his mind, I did after all leave my phone at the house.  Opps, my bad.

I gave everyone at the restaurant a big hug and thanks as I departed.

I headed the few blocks back home.  Stopping outside the stone façade of my five story Georgian home in Manhattan, my heart and mind still can’t fathom how I have been so blessed to be standing here today. 

And this is now where my story begins.