Of course, it took me way too long to get up the nerve to call Mr. Marinaro. He had been a surrogate dad for years and I was about to tell him his kid would be arrested if he came near me.

But I did it.

I went into the den and dialed the number memorized in my brain for the rest of my life.

"Royal Catering." the receptionist answered.

I said I was calling for Mr. Marinaro, was put on hold and then a moment later..."Andrew! Andrew! How's it going?"

My heart was breaking.

We caught up, talked about his family (no mention of Rudy), talked about my family, talked about Eric and the friends at the coffee house...

So weird to be sitting there, in my den-- chatting with the father of a man who'd been threatening me for the last several weeks.

I realized I was killing time to avoid getting to the real issue-- and Mr. Marinaro knew it as well. The tension became too uncomfortable until...

"You know why I'm calling, Mr. Marinaro. It's about Rudy."

He told me how happy he was that I'd dropped the sexual harassment suit and that Rudy had been doing well with no complaints. Then the strangest thing happened-- Mr. Marinaro thanked me for helping Rudy.

"How did I help Rudy?"

"He decided to take a long vacation -- decided to get his head cleared. Told me he was gonna maybe get into therapy and deal with his being a homo. I gave my boy my blessing and sent him to Florida for a month."

"Florida? When does he leave?" I asked.

"Leave? Andrew, he's been gone three weeks now. He comes back in a week and has already made an appointment to see a shrink. Isn't that wonderful? And I don't think he'd have done any of this if you and your lawyer hadn't scared him into it."

We said good-bye and I hung up the phone, realizing Rudy had been gone for three weeks.

My God...

If that was true, then who was sending these letters? The threats? Sitting outside my house watching me?