The First Time, Part 1

The afternoon was cold and bright as the car pulled up to the luxurious 5th Avenue apartment building. A doorman rushed out to open the car door for Ciaran and, although he had never been there before, the doorman knew his name.

"Good afternoon, Mr. O'Donnell, we've been expecting you." Ciaran stepped out of the car and strode to the lobby entrance, where another doorman awaited him.

"Good afternoon, Mr. O'Donnell," he echoed his partner. "Please take the elevator to the Penthouse."

"Thank you," Ciaran replied as he entered the building. Each step he took brought with it a rise in the nervous excitement that had been growing steadily within him all day. He had waited a month for this -- no, he had waited a lifetime.

As he stepped out of the elevator, the door to Andreas's apartment was opened for him. "Hello Ciaran, good to see you again." It was Charles, Andreas's... whatever! Ciaran had asked Andreas what Charles did and Andreas had answered that he did what was needed. In time, Ciaran would come to understand what he meant. Charles had been with Andreas for almost 40 years, always in the background, unobtrusive but ever present.

"Nice to see you again, Charles."

"Andreas will be so happy that you are here," Charles said as he took Ciaran's coat. Charles was dressed in black slacks and a white shirt. He wore black slippers of the softest leather and he offered a similar pair to Ciaran. "We don't wear our street shoes in the house." Ciaran slipped off his comfortable old boots and Charles took them, being careful not to show his dismay -- they badly needed a polishing.

Ciaran took in his surroundings. He was in a circular foyer, two stories high and almost as big as his entire apartment. Facing the door was a wide staircase and on either side of the staircase were entranceways leading into an elegantly appointed living room spanning the width of the building. Two doors to the right and left led to the kitchen and library, respectively.

"Why don't you go upstairs," said Charles. "Make a left and Andreas's room is at the end of the hall." Charles pointed to the door, visible because the hallway was actually a balcony looking out over the foyer.

"Thanks, Charles." Ciaran proceeded to the stairs and, as he climbed, he prayed that his knees would not buckle under him. As he turned to walk towards Andreas's room he glanced down at Charles and was met with a wry, knowing grin. He knocked softly on Andreas's door.

"Come in, Ciaran," he heard Andreas say. He opened the door to a large room, darkened to the obtrusive afternoon sunlight. Andreas was sitting on a sofa in front of a large fireplace. His back was to the door and he did not turn around. "Come, sit and talk for awhile."