Ambush

The following fictional story deals with sex among males. If you are offended by such material, are too young, or reside in a location where it is not allowed, please depart. Though not observed in this story, care enough about yourself and humankind to practice safe sex.

The author retains all rights. No reproductions or links to other sites are allowed without the author's consent.

DEDICATION

With this posting of the last chapter in "Ambush" comes the opportunity to discharge debts. Recently, Tim Mead dedicated a chapter of his story, "Dr. Tim and the Boys," to me. I wish to discharge my debt by dedicating this chapter to Tim and to his doughty crew, Patrick Young and "TNT" Tom, all one in mind, heart, and spirit. I'm not betraying more than I should (for he has told other readers as much) when I share with you that Tim, like more than one Nifty author and reader, serves at the altar, dispensing sacraments. In your communications with him, many of you have discovered that he also dispenses the sacraments of friendship, love, and charity, freely offering the unstinting, unwavering support he evokes from others. His charitable thoughts, good works, and always-kind gestures bestow grace.

My debt extends further than just a mutual gesture. Aristotle states in his "Poetics" that all good plots, fictional or actual, must have a beginning, middle, and end. Tim, Patrick and Tom have moved me to an awareness that less lofty plot lines must also come to end. The crew's timely agency was almost unnecessary. A computer crash a few weeks ago caused me to lose the first version of Chapter 43, at that time only a page away from completion. I also lost consulting files, tax information, e-mails - all of it. I was ready to stop writing anything and forego forever consorting with this hunk of plastic and circuitry. Never less than a hero and champion, Tim stepped in to help by sending me the scenes introducing Walt and Audrey Ford, which I'd sent him for reaction. With that start, I moved on to complete this chapter. Still, I haven't missed that Greek Chorus's chant of Aristotle's dictum.

I wouldn't for the world omit Asher Bradley from this dedication. His constant cheer, goodness, astonishing loyalty, and strength are humbling. Would that I were as good a man.

Also Tom Borden, with whom this series started. Didn't know what you were unleashing, did you Tom? I hope I've not given you occasion to regret it.

Finally, all you readers who sent all those e-mails and initiated all those good conversations over a couple of years are included in this dedication as well. You've been SO patient during the slow posting of chapters. I'm not certain any writer has ever been the recipient of such gentle, polite cage-rattling as a reminder that there are readers out there impatient for the next chapter. I want to include David, the Nifty Archivist, and his crew, who probably are never appreciated enough. I extend appreciation and thanks many times over to all of you.

EvanBradley33@Yahoo.com

Chapter 43 Fulfillment

Since Kenny Walters had indicated his interest in having a party for his friends, his mother Rachel wondered aloud to him how she could line his father up enthusiastically behind the plans. Kenny grinned mischievously. "When I want to move my man where I want him to be, I start in bed," he said. They both giggled.

"You think that would work for me?" Rachel asked, enjoying the unique intimacy of this line of conversation with her son.

"Are you kidding? You're my mother. Who gave me the sensibilities to develop my 'bed arts'? Again, they giggled, falling into a hug.

So Rachel activated her feminine wiles to make it happen by becoming markedly amorous toward Joe. He knew what she was up to. Unbeknownst to Rachel, he had overhead Kenny and her discussing the party and the way they managed their men. He'd nearly burst a gut trying not to crack up and alert them to his eavesdropping. She launched a lobbying campaign in bed that night to induce Joe to agree. He decided that he'd play hard to get. He wasn't sorry. Their lovemaking was steamy and athletic - in short, fantastic. He postured reluctant approval of the party plans. Truth to tell, he was delighted. Kenny had never made any demands of them, money-wise or otherwise. It was Rachel and he who had decided to give Kenny a car on his sixteenth birthday. The same occurred with his computer on his next birthday.

About the only challenge Kenny had posed was his quiet, shy nature - until Jeremy came along, that is. Joe had worried for years that Kenny would allow others to walk all over him or that he would allay himself with a woman who would have him jumping through hoops like a trained dog. It was this fear that explained his horror upon hearing Kenny relate how he had gone to a bar drunk when he a an earlier boyfriend had broken up, gone just to offer himself sexually to whoever would have him. He'd always liked Jeremy, but even more so after hearing that sad tale. He never wanted Kenny to feel that way agina. Because Kenny had been a dutiful, shy son, Rachel and Joe had never had a chance to "step out" among their friends as Kenny's proud parents. At long last, Kenny was giving them that chance.

Having "conquered" Joe, Rachel had immediately contacted Donna Merton, who had so successfully catered social affairs in the Halsey home. They immediately found a soul mate in each other. Rachel was rather excited by the pre-senior year theme she had chosen for the party, for the Walters would be the first to set the tone for the kids' final, exciting year in senior high school.

The theme would serve another purpose - it would cloak the behind-the-scenes machinations that Kenny and Jeremy had imparted to her. Susan Connolly had plans to link Rosalie Rodriguez with a young fellow named Denton Cooper because Rosalie had been left behind by her former boyfriend. And all the kids were helping Troy nudge his mother toward that hunky basketball coach, Dave Hernandez. When Joe and she and their circle of friends had attended Templeton High School basketball games, the women always found occasion to chat about what a stud Dave was. They speculated about why Dave was still a bachelor. When she'd heard about the challenges besetting the Morgan family, her heart had gone out to them, especially Emily. If she lost Joe, she just couldn't imagine much of a life left for her. She sensed that Emily had to be feeling the same thing. How many men would be interested in becoming an instant father to four boys, the youngest of whom was years from college?

Rachel didn't want to let on to Joe about the romantic machinations because he'd tease her. When, as a naive college student, she and Joe had started dating seriously, she'd loved trying to hook his friends up with her friends. He razzed her frequently about playing matchmaker. She couldn't help it. The prospect of helping two people really find each other was too fulfilling for everyone for her to deny the urge. She loved seeing people happy and in love. Or even if they ended up as just friends, it was one of life's better outcomes.

Rachel had called Evan Halsey with the news about the party. Evan had immediately asked what he could do. "You've done so much Evan just in suggesting this party and pointing me to Donna Merton. We just want you to come and enjoy yourself as Jeremy's father and our friend."

"But I'd like to do more. And I have a suggestion. Now if you aren't comfortable with my idea, just say so. You won't hurt my feelings. After Jeremy's adoption, we talked about having a family portrait made. Of course, we immediately said we wanted Joe, Kenny, and you included in a photo with us. Well, you know how loving Jeremy is - he wanted Troy, Susan, and Cody in one, and the list kept growing. Then we got busy and that idea fell through the cracks. So I would like to hire a professional photographer to take pictures of the Halseys and you all at the party. But he could be a roving photographer too, taking pictures of families and high school friends. No one would be obliged to buy any photos, but the dividend for the photographer is that others will want copies of those shots. With these digital cameras, a photographer would probably be just about as unobtrusive as you'd want him to be. And perhaps with your assistance we could set a corner of a room aside where slightly more formal shots could be posed. The early holiday shoppers among us would see potential gifts for family and friends. Finally, the photographer would be drumming up business for senior pictures for the yearbook. It could really pay off big for him or her."

"Evan! That's a wonderful idea! I'm certain people will be talking about it weeks after the party. We'll set a trend for all those senior-year parties. And thank you for hiring the photographer. If I add one more expense to this party, Joe may divorce me."

"I'm delighted, Fair Lady, to save you from misfortune." Evan responded. "I'll investigate some photographers and share the information with you. Then we can decide together which one to hire."

"Wonderful! I'm so excited. I want this party to be tomorrow!" she laughed.

*** Susan, Troy and Cody had decided that the fellas needed to pull Walt Ford and Ray Simpson, the assistant basketball coaches, aside after practice to secure their help. They didn't have to wait long for an opportunity. One afternoon when Dave, the head coach, had scooted off to his office to take a phone call, Troy and Cody asked to talk to Walt and Ray for a few minutes as the other players left the court for the locker room. Walt was a favorite coach of Troy and Cody's, second only to Dave Hernandez. Seven years out of college, Walt was tall, but instead of merely being lanky, his toned muscles made his body statuesque. His chocolate skin glowed with health, and his ass was a killer! Women were noticing and whispering about it all the time. Walt kept his hair so short that some might have thought him going bald. Its even distribution over his head made that an untenable conclusion. His eyes were dark, intense, and dancing. His thick lips were beautifully shaped, set in a strong, square, handsome face. In short, he was a stud of the first magnitude. More than one Templeton student had entertained fantasies about lying in Walt's arms - or under him.

Newly out of college, Ray had played basketball in Europe for a year before returning to the states and his present coaching job. A hunk, he looked more like a runner. What distinguished him was his "golden boy" looks with honey blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a complexion that always seemed lightly tanned. His broad shoulders topped a flatter chest than Walt's, and his legs, while slim, were ropy with muscles. He loved to stand and whirl a basketball on his middle finger, moving it up and down and around.

"What's up, Dudes?" Walt asked, his countenance revealing curiosity. Understandably, Troy and Cody were favorites among the coaches because they were gifted jocks and students and good leaders, promoting the work of the coaches to positive outcomes. A coach could be the best in the world, but if he didn't have good athletes to direct, he wouldn't compile a successful record.

"I guess you know my folks are divorcing?" Troy asked the two coaches.

"Yeah," Ray said, Walt shaking his head in agreement, their curiosity increasing. "We heard. Sorry about that. We hope your family is doing better now."

"Riley's bounced back okay," Troy answered. "But Mom is struggling a little with life. That's why we wanted to talk to you. We'd like to get Dave and my mom together. Not a date!" Troy hastened to add. "Mom wouldn't date until she's totally divorced. But when we've seen Dave and Mom talking after games, they seem to really hit it off. He seems more than interested. We'd like to point them toward each other so that when Mom's divorce is final, they might start dating."

"I told you!" Walt said to Ray, who was balancing a whirling basketball on his fingers.

"I can't believe it," Ray admitted. "But I'm glad. It's time ole Dave got a life. And that won't happen until he has a woman. It's been too long since that disaster in college."

"Told Ray what? What disaster?" Cody asked.

"I told Ray something was up because Dave has changed a little," Walt answered. "The rookie over there hasn't been around long enough to know that ole Walt knows when hunting is going on."

Troy and Cody snickered. "Rookie? Ray the rookie? Rookie Ray? I like the sound of that," Cody teased. "I could make a lot out of that!"

"Cool it," Ray said, but not unkindly. "You haven't seen my evil side."

"Hunting?" Troy asked.

"I can smell when a guy's on the hunt for a woman. I can read all the signs," Walt bragged. "If I were a beast in the jungle, I'd always know who was going after nookie. I read the signs!"

"Yeah, you'd probably be heading the pack," Ray shot back.

"So what disaster were you talking about in regard to Coach Hernandez?" Troy asked.

Walt and Ray looked at each other, a silent question passing between them. Ray shook his head a bit in the affirmative as though agreeing silently with an answer they shared telepathically.

"Okay guys, what I'm about to tell you goes no further than right here. Got it?" Walt asked.

"Yeah," Cody answered.

"Of course," Troy agreed.

"When Dave was a senior in college, he'd been tight with his girlfriend for three years. She was a beautiful woman. They had an apartment together and planned to marry. Well, said girl friend finds out she's pregnant, so without saying anything, she has an abortion and THEN tells Dave. Dave probably doesn't consider himself a super Catholic, but given his Hispanic upbringing, it blew him away. Like he wasn't involved, didn't count for anything, had no say in the matter. He decided that if she'd take it so lightly and go behind his back over something so serious, she'd do it more frequently over less serious issues. She was taking him for granted. So he broke it off with her. Hasn't dated since. I think he blames himself in some way, but he doesn't talk about it much. I wouldn't know the story myself if my wife Audrey hadn't wormed it out of him one night when we'd had a few beers too many. He ended up getting emotional about losing the opportunity to be a father."

Ray shook his head. "Audrey ought to work for the CIA. She's good at getting people to talk."

"Yeah, but Audrey really likes Dave. If she saw any woman doing a number on him, the music would be over for that chick. Dave and Audrey are tight," Walt explained.

"So what did you guys notice that made you think something was different with Dave?" Cody asked.

"He's been humming, Man!" Walt exclaimed, surprise marking his voice. "Humming! Romantic stuff! He never hummed music before. I told Ray that if I heard him humming an oldie like 'Three Coins in a Fountain,' we were having an intervention with ole Dave."

"You gotta be kidding," Cody responded. "You only hear that song on old movies on TV."

Ray grinned. "You don't know how old-fashioned Dave boy is. He'd maim me if he heard me telling you this, but he plays Montovani and John Tesh romantic CDs in his car all the time. That dude is old-fashioned!"

They all chuckled, sharing a new insight into a man who still rated high with them. "And he's been primping in the mirror," Walt continued. "He never primped before. Just let that curly black hair fall all over his head. I swear that we can't start a home game without his checking the crowd to see if someone is there. I think it's a woman he's looking for - I think maybe your mom, Troy."

Ray chimed in, "All he does is talk about your brothers, Troy, and you two. AND your mother." Ray's smile widened as he looked into Troy's eyes.

"Sounds like he's been bitten by the bug," Troy half stated, half asked.

"You got it," Walt added. "So what's all this got to do with us?"

Troy swapped a glance with Cody. "We've been trying to come up with ways to get Dave and Mom together without people thinking they're dating - without Mom thinking it's a date.

"Um-hum," Walt nodded his head. "Go on."

Cody jumped in. "We thought if the coaches, maybe all the coaches in all the sports, had a potluck dinner or something, it would be a big enough crowd that if Dave asked Emily to go with him, it wouldn't look improper to her. The women coaches would be there too, and some of them would come by themselves, so Emily would look a little more like another single woman," Cody explained.

"And maybe your wives could act like they're tired of seeing Dave come alone," Troy went on. "They'd tease him, telling him he couldn't come alone this time. You know, refuse to let him in or something if he doesn't bring a woman."

Walt and Ray traded smiles. Walt turned to Cody and Troy. "You men are connivers. Didn't know that about you. . . . But I like it. What say, Ray? You game?"

Ray laughed. "Wait till I tell Jenny. She was a matchmaker in a former life. She'll love it."

Walt smiled. "Yeah, Audrey will hop on it too. She has never passed up a chance to give ole Dave 'what for' for showing up at get-togethers all by himself." Walt turned to Troy. "Leave it to us. We'll make it happen."

"Just call us Cupid and Eros," Ray added, cackling.

Troy burst out with one of his belly laughs, bending over from laughing so hard. Cody leaned his arms on Troy's back, laughing just as hard.

Walt turned to Ray. "Did you hear anything THAT funny?"

"Naw," Ray said. "What are they so cracked up about? Sounds like they think we can't pull it off."

"No, no," Cody gasped out. "It's just that a couple of old, married guys like you sound so funny talking about romance."

"That so?" Walt responded, a challenge implicit in his voice, his eyebrows raised. "What do you think, Ray? We got to make a point with these guys?"

Ray cocked his head to one side, raising his chin. "Let's see. I'm in charge of drills at practice tomorrow. Think we should run these little smart asses' butts into the ground?"

Again, Troy and Cody set off into peals of laughter. "In your dreams," Troy gasped out. The team and the players always treated the coaches with respect, but that didn't keep one group from teasing the other occasionally - another form of competition. Usually, it was never so direct, more implicit in remarks. Age was a handy theme for the young jocks when they wanted to tweak the coaches' sensibilities. So they'd test the coaches by implying that they were past their prime - catcalls like 'Whose turn is it to call 911?' when the coaches joined them in drills.

Walt and Ray glanced at each other, their eyebrows raised. They turned and strolled off. "See you BOYS tomorrow." Then they snickered as they spoke in low tones to each other.

"Be careful tomorrow during drills," Walt softly warned Ray so that Troy and Cody couldn't hear. "We don't want any injuries."

"I know," Ray responded, his grin wide, "that's why I'm running with them." Walt snickered.

When they reached the coaches' locker room, Ray asked, "So how we going to get the ball rolling on this dinner thing?"

"We-e-e-e-l-l," Walt thought aloud, "we need to talk to Rene Blake. As the head women's basketball coach, she pretty much sees eye-to-eye with us. When she gets behind an idea, it moves."

"I thought she was a lez," Ray said. Walt frowned. "How do you know," Ray continued, "that she'd be interested in putting together a dinner for all the coaches just so Dave could sneak in a date with Troy's mom."

"Hey buddy, aren't you responding a little too much to stereotype?" Walt asked. "I thought you were more relaxed than that."

"I am," Ray answered. "But I'm new here, and I don't really know Rene except to say hello."

"Well put your reservations to rest. And I don't know the stereotype Rene would fit no matter what her sexual orientation is. And yes, she'll be more than happy to help Dave. She likes Dave because he always stands up for the women's teams anytime the school board wants to cut their budgets. And he always backs Rene, especially in some of her visions. She thinks coaches act too much like Lone Rangers. Instead of immersing ourselves only in our specialties, she thinks we all should be better organized around sports in general. And instead of waiting for students to come out for our teams, we should be going to them. Recruiting them. And she's right. You should hear her talk about health problems students will face in their adult lives if something isn't done right here in their teen years."

"Problems?" Ray asked.

"Increasing obesity among students, an increase in Type II diabetes - that's adult-onset diabetes. Kids aren't supposed to be developing it. That means 20 years down the road, they'll be developing potentially life-threatening complications of the disease, some of them dying too young. Also more emotional and mental problems, inability to make wise choices about leisure time," Walt answered. "It's a long list. She thinks all the coaches at Templeton should get together and create a health/exercise/nutrition plan for everybody in the community - students, staff, and teachers. If she had her way, we'd create the plan and ask community volunteers to coordinate it. And she's absolutely ape over the idea of creating programs for students and their families to be staged right here in the school's facilities in the early morning and evening. If she could use this dinner as a kick-off for moving in that direction, you and I wouldn't have to do much except keep out of the way or she'd run over us. As principal, Kate Williams will support it 100%. It goes right along with her notion of the school's functioning more as a community center, a place where families can come together in a variety of activities and elevate the importance of education as a family value."

Ray looked a little dazed by the prospects. Finally, he responded, "Should we talk to Rene together?"

"Yeah, let's go find her now. And then get out of the way," Walt concluded, grinning.

*** Walt was the first to reach home that evening, so he started preparations for a stir-fry dinner. Audrey arrived not long after, looking fresh in a tan linen suit with a bright pastel orange, yellow, green and burgundy silk scarf accent. She loved dressing and playing the part of the new executive career woman. She was stunning - stacked body, her face looking as smooth as a Greek marble statue, with a natural peach under blush highlighting her light brown African American complexion. And she didn't need to make any apologies for her "rear view" either. Her legs were killers, especially when she wore heels. Walt never ceased to marvel how she could dress to the nines, work all day, and come home looking as fresh as she did when she headed out for the day. Sometimes he couldn't believe he was lucky enough to win her for his wife because she had been pursued by a herd of panting college men, both black and white. Even more, she was smart.

She was proud of her Masters in Business Administration, and she knew how to use it. Her corporation knew a good thing too - they had her on the fast track in the managerial hierarchy. Walt worried sometimes that his being a coach held Audrey back in the eyes of the bigwigs in her firm. He was proud of his Master of Science in Education, but in his mind, it didn't rank with Audrey's MBA.

She was tough too, like her mama. Audrey's dad was a drone, so it was up to her mother to inculcate toughness in her children. She was not daunted by that responsibility. Audrey's dad was a nice enough guy, but all Walt could see that he'd contributed to his handsome sons and beautiful daughters was his chromosomes. Mama Wilson had given them vision, heart, spirit, and taught them to be tough! Audrey's closeness to his boss and friend, Dave Hernandez, seemed like a hedge against her ever regarding him as a liability - another Daddy Wilson in her life.

When Audrey had changed into jeans and a tee shirt, she joined him in the kitchen. Walt was grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Okay, Walt, what's up?"

"Baby, why are you acting so suspicious?"

"I know that look. What do you have on your mind?"

Walt laughed in delight at being found out. "You're gonna l-i-k-e it," he said, tossing his head back and forth, teasing her. But Audrey wasn't going to bite. She knew him - if he was this excited, he couldn't hold it in, so she didn't have to cajole him to tell her. She just cocked her head to the side, waiting.

"Your assistance in a romantic plot is desired," he said. She waited. "It involves your buddy Dave Hernandez." She waited. "Remember what I told you about Troy Morgan's family troubles?"

Now her head straightened. He had her hooked! She went to all Templeton High's ball games, so she knew the players, and, as with every fan, Troy was a favorite of hers. Not only that, but she and Susan had hit it right off the few times they'd been in each other's company. Over the past few months, she'd quickly absorbed all the details that Walt knew about the recent Morgan troubles. "Yes," she answered simply.

"Troy and Cody Saxon came to Ray and me after practice today, asking us to help them get Dave and Emily Morgan together. Troy says his mother won't date until the divorce is final, but they're anxious to put a little life back in her life. They had a pretty good plan for getting all the coaches together at a potluck dinner. They wondered if Jenny and you would tell Dave that he had to bring a woman with him or you all wouldn't let him in. Maybe even drop a hint about Troy's mother's being at loose ends."

She smiled. "Susan helped the guys figure this out."

Walt cocked his head back. "You think men can't figure out stuff like this?"

She waited. "You aren't going to answer?" he asked, petulantly.

"I don't give answers when they're obvious," she replied.

Walt fell silent - into a little pout, actually. It was all she could do to keep from giggling because he was so cute when he pouted. And she loved the opportunity to pull him out of it as he stood at the cutting board, hacking away at peppers, onions, celery, and carrots for the stir-fry. She knew just how to do it, and it worked every time. She slipped up behind him, pushing into his hot ass and sliding her arms about his slim waist. Walt never knew how much Audrey loved his chocolate complexion and shapely body. To her, it spelled "robust" all over the man and his character. Even more, she loved his personality, especially when his caring nature burst through his macho, black, male, jock demeanor. "Now don't go all pouty, Stud."

"I'm not appreciated," he answered curtly. She didn't move except to hug and caress him, sliding her hands underneath his tee shirt and up his sculpted chest, running her fingertips around his nipples, then tweaking them with her fingernails. Finally, he couldn't stand it any longer. "So will you?"

"Of course," she said lightly as she brushed her right hand down across his package. She smiled even more. She'd put him on the bone! It never failed. It told her how much she meant to Walt. It guaranteed a good time in bed that night. "When is this conversation supposed to take place?"

"We talked to Rene Blake, who's heading up the dinner," Walt replied, warming only partially but extending their contact by pushing his ass ever so slightly back into Audrey. "We decided an informal dinner here for Ray, Jenny, Rene and Dave would be the best place for you to rope Dave in. Rene could sell the importance of the dinner and the importance of Dave's attending as head basketball coach. Then Jenny and you could deliver your ultimatum, and Rene would back you up."

"Uh-hum. We can make it work. I'll coordinate with Jenny." She eyed Walt.

Finally he asked with some exasperation, "What?"

"You can be diabolical, sneaky if you want to be."

"Let's not go there," Walt muttered quietly.

"I wasn't referring to that," she said. "I'm going to call Jenny now." She left the kitchen to go to the study.

Walt was surprised that his mind had headed so quickly to that painful time in the past, especially when it was a moment he never wanted to revisit. He'd been arrogant one time, sneaking into a little affair with a hot, predatory college coed doing a practicum with a woman coach at Templeton High School. He didn't know to this day why he did it. He thought it hit him during a period of testosterone madness. It took Audrey no time at all to find out. She had confronted them together at the school gym, telling him to make up his mind what he wanted. She'd give him 24 hours. He was to find someplace else to stay overnight. After the 24 hours, if she hadn't heard from him, she would look for a lawyer.

Then Audrey nailed the little coed with an imperious stare, which actually had the little girl taking several steps back. Audrey told her to grow up and go find her own man, commenting that, as far as she was concerned (words delivered with a lofty air), only the lame hit on other sisters' good men - especially when they had all the good looks they needed to catch a man's attention through their own efforts. She'd warned her that good looks weren't enough to keep it going though. Only real character would do that. Then she asked if the little coed knew anything about good character before she strolled off, her shapely ass swaying, leaving Walt and the little coed "in their places."

The 24 hours away from Audrey had turned into a nightmare of one portent after another about how flat and empty Walt's life would be if Audrey weren't in it. He didn't want to give up what he had with Audrey. Somehow she always kept him on an edge, be it sexual, emotional, intellectual, spiritual. It was exciting. Life with her was never dull. Other married buddies who, with the passage of time, didn't have that much with their wives, had to make an effort to crank up the romantic routines. He was really beating himself up, wondering how he could have been so stupid.

When Walt had admitted that he'd made a mistake and wanted to remain married to Audrey, she'd told him he was getting his second chance. There was no such thing as a third chance in her books. He asked for her forgiveness, and she gave it, but things were strained between them for months after that. He'd catch her looking at him, not quite masking the hurt in her eyes. He knew she was afraid he wasn't finding in her something he needed, Even worse, she couldn't identify what it was he needed so that he could supply it. He had never been so worried. It reminded him what a major role Audrey played in his total make-up and life.

Audrey's being distant in bed finally underlined how significant his loss could have been. For all her strength, Audrey wanted him, needed him, to control their lovemaking in bed. As strong as she was elsewhere in life, in bed she wanted to be won, but even more she wanted to surrender to him. Her surrender was a precious gift because, to give it, she had to desert so many of her other strong attributes. Her surrender was the ultimate in being male for him, in being a married couple for them. After their final orgasms, they were jelly.

Walt would begin with passionate kisses, for Audrey had told him how hot his bigger lips were on hers, on her body. It was only one of several factors that validated their "blackness" - what was good and proper and true about being black. Her neck featured several erogenous zones, and he worked them all with his nose, lips, tongue and teeth before swooping down on her beautiful breasts. He'd been with many women in college. None had breasts to compare with Audrey's. They were just the right size, neither grossly huge nor astonishingly small. And that same peach under blush that made her complexion so striking infused her nipples and aureoles. It made him think he was tasting peaches. He'd had to try hard to stifle his laughter when he first thought of the comparison to peaches. If a man laughed while he was ministering to his beloved's breasts, he'd never regain the ground he lost. At this point in their foreplay, Audrey couldn't hold back her passion, her exclamations of love. 'Bach! Be still,' he thought. 'You haven't a cantata that matches Audrey's and mine when we're at the height of making love.'

He loved cupping Audrey's breasts in his hands, slowly moving his palm over the underside while he lapped around the aureoles and then licked the nipples. He made it noisy at that point because it turned Audrey on to the triple power. She insisted on running her fingers through his crack, collecting his man scent, smelling it, swiping it under her nostrils, holding it to his nose to share. Then he'd move down to her slit and begin tonguing her. As he noted her pitch rising, he'd swoop up and nibble and then bite, really nip, her nipples. She always arched her back at that point, so Walt knew he'd hit one of her major vulnerabilities. If he had a finger in her pussy, he always felt it grow wetter.

Returning to her slit, he made lingual love to her. When he recognized that she was ready for an orgasm, he loved at that point to slide his big dick into her. She almost always climaxed immediately without his ever having to pump himself deeper into her. Even he was proud of the fact that he'd give her many more orgasms before the night was over. And those young Turks like Troy and Cody thought they'd run his ass into the ground! They'd never been in bed with Audrey!

Occasionally, Audrey would let him start out with foreplay, but she would rebel and wrest control from him. It always threw him a little, but he couldn't say he didn't like it. He knew when she wanted it because she'd quickly roll him off her and move astride him, controlling the foreplay, expecting him to surrender to her. It kept them in balance, kept them from taking their conjugal roles for granted. Once astride him, she would slide his dick into her and move them to climax. She wasn't a woman out to appease her man. She was an Amazon. She was taking what she desired, and his role was to lie there and give it up!

After their final orgasms had left them spent, Audrey clung to him. The first six months they were married, he'd learned that, when he needed to turn in bed, he'd have to 'unhook' her arms and legs from him so that he could shift his position. She really didn't want to let go. But as she came to trust him, he would loosen her grip on him, roll over, then pull her to him, after which she re-established her hold. He'd never allow her to flounder. Walt thought her insistence about clinging to him had something to do with her father's lazy approach to life and love. He could be easily convinced that lazy love was terribly destructive.

That period when she was cool after the coed episode merely sharpened for him how significantly she contributed to his happiness. He would never again in his life endanger his marriage to Audrey. He was deeply, deeply in love with her. He was proud of her, proud to be her husband. He wanted Dave to feel this way about a woman too. Dave deserved it. Walt would do whatever it took to promote that outcome.

*** Ever since Jim Belton had invited Ron and Evan to the farm, Evan had detected an internal shift. He couldn't give a name to it, but he knew it had happened, that Ron's presence lay within him, solid, active. Jim claimed to have noticed it after Tim Minor's visit. Since Evan was still processing Tim's return to Ron's and his lives, he wasn't in any position to affirm or deny Jim's impression. It WAS only upon hearing Jim's words that Evan completely realized that Ron presence was tangible. Even when Evan was intensely busy during a class discussion, he was still aware of Ron within him. As soon as he awakened in the morning, he reveled in his lover's presence. He'd never experienced anything like it. Less often than he expected, it generated sexual images and fantasies, but not constantly as in former days. As Saturday grew near, Evan felt the presence within him growing stronger. When he contemplated it, he was flush with pleasure. Nothing sexual first - just contentment, warmth, love, security.

Following Jim's instructions, Ron had picked Evan up about 8:00 on Saturday morning for their day at the farm. Immediately, Evan had felt as though he occupied a state of bliss. He didn't know that Ron was buoyed by similar experiences. Their chat on the drive into the country was relaxed, filled with fantasies about a day with their buddies, a day in the country, but especially a day with each other. On top of his heightened awareness and response to Ron, as always, the sentience piqued by Ron's physical presence thrilled Evan. It was as though his biorhythms ramped up a notch, for he noticed it in his deeper breathing. He wasn't on the bone, but he noticed that his cock had thickened too. Upon arriving at the farm, they rolled out of Ron's car and walked up to the porch, with Ron's left palm making gentle circles on Evan's jeans-clad ass. When they knocked on the back door, they were greeted warmly by Miles, who pulled each into a hug. Miles was looking butch in a red and black buffalo plaid flannel shirt, bib overalls and work boots. "Hey, guys, sit down," he gestured at the kitchen table, "and have some coffee. Put your jackets over the backs of your chairs. Jim and I haven't had a chance to visit with you for a while, and I need more coffee before we tackle the garden."

Just then Jim bounced into the kitchen, clothed similarly to Miles. Repeating Miles's style of greeting, he went to Ron and then Evan, pulling each one up into a hug while he thanked them for pitching in with the garden, giving Evan a wink on the sly. They sat at the table for perhaps half an hour, "allowing the air outdoors to warm," as Jim put it. They used the time to catch up on Miles and Jim's plans for their farm. Evan suddenly realized that the farm was a crux that ensured focus, commitment, interaction, and connection - a constant source of excitement. He wondered what kind of comparable situation Ron and he could create that would produce similar effects.

Clearly antsy to tackle the garden project, Jim started bustling about the kitchen, preparing a basket of fruit and a thermos of cold water to take to the garden. His eagerness was not lost on the others. They watched him with growing amusement, swapping smiles and winks behind his back. Soon Miles had to work harder to avoid cracking up. Without turning around, Jim stated, "I know what you're doing, Miles. You're making fun of me for pushing us on into the day. I don't care. I'm already loving being here with you and our friends." The other three chuckled, acceding to Jim's wishes by arising and donning their jackets.

Ron and Evan followed Jim and Miles around to the east side of the farmhouse, where in a sunny expanse they saw a BIG garden plot. "Did you forget how to turn the tiller off, Jim?" Evan teased.

Jim gave Evan a one-fingered salute. "You just wait. We're feeding more than two people out of this garden. You two, Rosamund, Brenda." At the mention of the last name, Evan's left eyebrow cocked and he tipped his head in the same direction, indicating surprise and appreciation for Jim's remembering his ex-wife. "Oh yeah, Kate Williams too."

"Kate Williams!" Evan exclaimed. "Wait till I razz her about not showing up to help plant the garden. You can come with me, Ron."

"Oh, no. If you want to play Daniel in the Lion's Den, go ahead." He smiled. "I'll stand outside and watch."

"You're going to allow a woman to eat me?" Evan asked, posturing incredulity in the midst of the double entendre.

"Well . . . I'll let her jaw the tough parts before I jump in and take over the parts I want," Ron said, mischievously, winking at Evan. His remark earned a swat on the ass from Evan.

Jim and Miles had already brought rakes, shovels, and hoes to the garden area. Jim pulled out a piece of notebook paper on which he had sketched his plan for the garden. He knelt down, holding the plan on the ground, anchoring it with a rock in each corner, while the crew knelt with him. Once he'd explained the plan, he assigned them their duties. "Ron and Evan, you take the rakes and break up the turned over earth and smooth it down to a flat surface. Start in the upper right corner and move down here to the bottom corner. Then back up for the next swath. Miles and I will follow along, creating raised rows with depressions on the side to catch rain water."

The teams set about their jobs. Ron and Evan faced each other as they swung their rakes out, allowing them to drop into the soft earth as they pulled it toward them. Then they would push the rakes back where they started their journey, breaking the earth into smaller clumps, repeating the movements until the surface of the soil was flat. They quickly established a rhythm, coordinating their movements so that they wouldn't clang their rakes against each other as they overlapped the other's swing. They were both loving it. It gave them an excuse to monitor the other, and they were getting off on catching the other sneaking peeks.

An hour and a half after arriving at the garden, they had completed two-thirds of their raking and row formation, so Jim called a time out. They walked over to solid ground, plopping down and sharing the thermos of cold water. Evan started the conversation by thanking Miles for representing Emily Morgan. Miles grimaced.

"What's wrong?" Evan inquired.

"Emily's going to need her friends, guys," Miles imparted as he passed the basket of fruit around. "It's not privileged information so I can tell you. You've probably already heard about it anyway. Whenever I am representing a high-profile client in a touchy divorce, I hire a private investigator to check the parties out. I want to know what my client and I are going to walk into. My PI found out that Roy was stepping out with two girlfriends."

"Two!" Evan exclaimed. "Does Emily know?"

"Yes, I was obliged to inform her."

"How'd she take it?" Jim asked.

"It was as though she deflated before my very eyes," Miles explained. "Kind of like a double rejection. Then when Roy was released from jail, he cleaned out the checking and savings accounts, leaving the family without funds. Emily's experiencing the wrinkles and rough edges of reality now."

Evan's eyes twinkled. "Maybe the tide is about to turn in her favor." Then he told them about the machinations to link Dave Hernandez with Emily.

"I understand that Dave knows Troy, but does he know all the boys?" asked Miles.

"Oh yes. Dave plays a Saturday morning scrimmage with the Morgan brothers and Cody Saxon. It's part of Troy and Cody's plan to teach Drew and Justin to play their 'clone style' of basketball."

"All the Morgan brothers?" Jim inquired.

"Oh yes," Evan replied. "Even Riley, the youngest. Have you met him?"

"No," Jim responded, "but I think I may have seen him at ball games. What's he like?"

"'Precocious' would be an understatement," Evan answered, chuckling. "Sometimes one thinks Riley's a fourteen-year-old in the body of a third grader. He's developed special skills to stand on his own in the face of three older, strong brothers."

"But doesn't Riley slow the game down?" Jim asked.

"No, when he has the ball, one of his team members holds him up so that he's just a little below the basket and Riley shoots away. He makes it sometimes too. And Dave is careful to give Riley pointers as often as he does the other boys. Riley, of course, is in seventh heaven. As far as he's concerned, he's the equal of everyone on the court."

"I'm relieved to hear about these relationships," Miles confessed. "Both Rosamund and I have been worried about Emily. Each time she comes in, she's a little quieter and a little more subdued. I was beginning to wonder if I should suggest that she see a counselor."

"Why would you be reluctant to suggest that step?" Jim asked.

"Emily's such a private person," Miles answered. "I wouldn't want to offend her by appearing to nose into her life. Often clients feel that way anyway when a lawyer must subject them to questions that seem to go on forever. Emily might feel it's just too much."

"She has some heavy issues in her life though," Ron observed.

"The heavy issues don't do you in," Evan blurted out. "It's when they join with minor issues and loss of even the few supports left that will tip you over the edge."

The others were startled not only by Evan's candor but also by the realization that he'd looked deep into the abyss and taken its measure. Ron quickly reached out for Evan's hand, squeezed it, and brought it to his lips, where he delivered a soft warm kiss. "Never again," he promised.

Tears sparkled in Evan's eyes as he looked down shyly but brought Ron's hand to his lips, kissing it warmly. 'This is deep,' Miles thought. 'I must have lived a very privileged life. I've never been confronted by such forces before. I don't know how to respond. If I SHOULD respond.'

Miles's line of thought was broken when Jim reached over, grabbing both Ron and Evan's hands and kissing them, repeating, "Never again!" Miles felt as though he'd been gut-punched, for he suddenly realized his beloved was acquainted with the abyss. It hurt! He knew it had happened when Jim was about to lose the farm. And he'd delayed telling Jim his plans to buy the farm through an agent. He had good reason, he thought - Jim had been disappointed when his ex-wife's lawyer insisted on an auction instead of allowing Brenda to sell her share of the farm outright. He didn't want Jim to experience a second disappointment. Miles felt terrible, knowing now how tragically it could have ended. At the same time, he was humbled by his lover's strength. Jim passed Ron and Evan's hands to Miles, who kissed both. Nothing was said to break the powerful communion joining the four friends. After reflection, Ron reached out for Miles and Jim's hands, repeating their gesture and passing their hands to Evan, who clasped them so hard Jim grimaced. Then Evan kissed their hands.

'What a pact,' thought Miles. They all sat in silence for at least five minutes as they processed the deep connections that had been forged among them.

"Damn!" Ron exclaimed for them all.

Finally Jim broke the silence. "Buddies, let's get back to the business of giving more life." They arose as one.

Evan looked at Jim. "What's your secret?" Jim looked confused. "This IS a magic place!" Jim merely smiled as they returned to their tasks.

When they had nearly finished the raking and row formation about 45 minutes later, Jim had disappeared briefly, returning with a grocery sack. He pulled out seed packets and boxes, distributing them to his team. After referring to Jim's plan, they began planting the seeds. Ron and Evan knelt on either side of a row with Evan a little in advance of Ron. Evan used his fingers to part the dirt and drop in the seeds. Ron followed after, closing the earth and patting it down enough that rain or wind wouldn't dislodge the seeds from their resting places in the soil.

Eventually, Ron noticed that Evan was leaning so far over the row that he was almost in Ron's face. A couple of times he heard faint sniffing coming from Evan's side of the row. He had to struggle to keep from laughing aloud, for he knew that little horndog was trying to catch Ron's scent. By the time they had planted one long row, Jim was calling them together to go to the house for lunch. Jim set out the makings for sandwiches and potato salad as the crew fashioned Dagwood sandwiches. Then they chowed down, their appetites fueled by the morning's labors. They chatted about Templeton's basketball team, making plans to attend the next home game together. They swapped school gossip and discussed the possibility of a joint summer trip.

At a lull in the conversation, Ron asked Miles if Emily was going to come out all right in the divorce proceedings. Miles vented exasperation. "You'd think Roy Morgan has forgotten that he faces some serious assault and child abuse charges. All he seems to care about is gouging concessions out of Emily and making her miserable. He can't want custody of the boys, but he's making noises like he'll take them from Emily if she doesn't give up this or relinquish that. My one salvation is that I'm not his lawyer. Roy's attorney is going to earn every dollar he charges. With his background in business, one would think Roy smart enough to realize that all those maneuvers are running up the bill he's going to receive."

"Will Roy succeed at in any of it?" Ron asked.

"I don't think there's a chance," Miles answered.

With lunch over, the four friends walked back to the garden. Following behind Ron and Evan, Miles and Jim were nudging each other and trading grins while watching their two friends walking close enough that their arms and hips touched. They returned to their planting. As the afternoon wore on and it became quite warm, Jim and Miles unbuttoned their bib overalls enough to shed their flannel shirts, leaving their tees on. All the gardeners began to sweat lightly. That effect alone improved Evan's ability to catch his lover's scent. After an hour and a half, he could hardly stand it. Ron's woodsy, male scent was drawing him in the same manner a magnet attracts iron filings. At one point, while Ron stood up to stretch tired muscles, Evan walked over to him, quickly sliding a leg behind Ron's knees, pushing him over backwards onto the soft earth. A startled Ron looked up at his attacker, mildly amused. "I can't help it," Evan burst out. "I love you Ron, really love you." Then he fell atop Ron, kissing him passionately. Miles and Jim laughed aloud and applauded, calling a break so that they could cool Evan down, they said. Evan flipped them the bird.

Evan arose and held his hand out for Ron to grab so that he could pull him up. Instead, Ron jerked him back down, clasping his arms around Evan, saying softly, "It's happened, hasn't it? Just as I foretold. Just as Miles and Jim suggested." Evan shook his head in the affirmative. Then Ron gave Evan a long, heartfelt kiss.

Ron and Evan finally arose, brushed dirt off each other, joining Miles and Jim. They plopped down next to each other so that as much of their sides as possible were in contact. Jim explained that, close to the last recorded frost date on record, he would buy plants and set those out in the garden. Ron and Evan eagerly offered to help with that too.

By midafternoon, the day's planting was finished. Miles and Jim asked Ron and Evan to stay for a steak dinner. Caught up in the euphoria of the day, both readily accepted the invitation. Jim had asked them to carry the rakes, hoes, and shovels back to the barn. Miles shot him an odd look, unnoticed by their two city friends. Again, as the two, carrying the garden implements, walked to the barn, their bodies were touching on as many points as possible.

When Evan and Ron were out of earshot, Miles asked, "Now why did you tell them to take the tools to the barn? We'll just have to go get them and put them back in the shed where they belong."

Jim grinned. "You know how this farm worked its magic on you. You've just seen evidence of its doing the same for Ron and Evan. Once they enter the barn, they'll want to check out the hayloft, where they'll find the sleeping bag. It will offer them the consummation they need now that they've arrived where they wanted to go in correcting the course of their relationship."

Miles grinned. "And people think that, because I'm a lawyer, I'm the clever one. I wish they could see you in operation." Jim threw himself into Miles's arms and against his lips.

Ron and Evan were so attuned to each other that they never looked back at their friends. Nor did they question that the doors to the barn, which should have been open from Jim's fetching the garden tools that morning, were closed. They each placed a hand against one of the doors, sliding it open. They walked down the center space with the horse stalls on either side. "Wonder where we put these?" Evan murmured.

"I don't know," Ron answered. "Let's lean them up here and go check out the hayloft." A smile formed on Evan's lips, matching that on Ron's. Grabbing Evan's hand, Ron led them to the ladder up into the loft. As Ron climbed up first, Evan watched that muscular jock ass flex as it pulled Ron's big body up the steps. As Evan climbed through the hole in the floor, Ron grabbed him, pulling him into an embrace and a kiss. Eventually, they moved apart breathless, eyes riveted on eyes. They turned with their arms thrown about the other's waist, as they strolled through the big upper story of the barn. They immediately saw the sleeping bag open and spread out on the straw.

"This must be the storied spot," Evan commented.

"I wonder if it comes equipped with amenities," Ron said, using his foot to lift up the bottom corners of the bag. Under one lay a tube of KY. The two lovers looked at each other, the question transmitted and answered in a trice. Evan grabbed the bottom of Ron's tee, pulling it out of his jeans and sweeping it over Ron's head. Not to be outdone, Ron repeated the gesture. Evan dropped to the sleeping bag, pulling off his shoes and socks as though driven by urgency. Ron followed suit as though they were in a race to see who could disrobe first. When they had pulled of their jeans and briefs, they sat looking at each other. "I love you, Evan Halsey, deeply, completely, and always," Ron said as he fell on Evan, mashing him flat on the sleeping bag.

Evan was moaning, softly calling out Ron's name, telling him how Ron had occupied a place inside him ever since Tim's visit. Ron whispered that he'd experienced the same phenomenon.

They began rolling over the sleeping bag and off onto the hay, exchanging hot passionate embraces and kisses. At one point, when he had Ron flat on his back, Evan reared back, diving into Ron's crotch and licking and swallowing Ron's cock. Then he pushed his legs back, eating out Ron's ass. In no time he had Ron swearing and calling out Evan's name. Suddenly, Ron reared up, grabbing Evan. "No more foreplay, Lover. The entire day's been foreplay." Evan's head fell back as laughter seized him. Then he straightened, grabbing Ron's wrists, his smile gone. "I need you in me now, my Love," he said urgently as he grabbed the KY, flopped on his back, pulling Ron over him in a straddle. He popped the top of the tube, squeezing a big dollop of KY on his hand. Then he gently, softly smoothed in on Ron's steely dick. Evan loved this ministration to his lover. The KY seemed to make the nerves in his hands more sensitive, for Evan could feel every vein as he smoothed his hands over Ron's dick. Ron gasped at first, grabbing Evan's shoulders hard, nearly overcome by the pleasure of having this man, his lover, the conqueror of his heart, caress him.

Ron moved his hands down to his cock to join Evan's, collecting KY. Using his fist to keep the KY on his palms, Ron gently pushed Evan back flat on his back. Grasping his legs under his knees, Evan pulled them back, opening himself to his lover, who prepared to smooth the KY on his hands around his lover's hole. Wrapping his one hand around the fingers on his other hand, Ron pulled the fingers through his fist, leaving more KY on the fingers. Then he began inserting them one at a time into his lover, loosening the muscles there for the lovely assault Ron had planned.

Almost immediately Evan began to whimper. Ron couldn't believe how it turned him on to be able to set this little titan whimpering for him. He leaned down to Evan's lips. Evan clasped him in his arms and his legs, shoving his lubricated ass up against Ron's hard cock. The kiss was hot. They felt themselves falling into each other. As they broke the kiss, Evan whispered, "Please," as he moved his hot little ass back and forth and around on Ron's hard dick. Ron was so enthralled with his lover that he knew he'd come if he didn't enter Evan soon.

Moving back slightly, Ron pointed the head of his dick at Evan's chute. Evan grabbed it, placing it as his entrance. Ron immediately but slowly began sinking into Evan, who was pushing back against him. Both were making noises as though they were flying down the water chute at Wally's Wet World. When Ron hit bottom, he couldn't help it. He started pumping, pulling almost all the way out and then shooting back in. Evan immediately synchronized with Ron's desperate plunges, shoving his ass back at Ron and clasping his dick as hard as he could with his inner ass muscles when Ron pulled back, making Ron's head fall back as he roared with the pleasure. Soon they were shiny with sweat, but neither could remember a coupling of theirs that was as hot, pleasurable, or fulfilling as this one.

Evan began gasping, and Ron knew why. They were falling into a powerful orgasm. Ron slid his arms under his lover's back, placing his hands from the back over Evan's shoulders, pulling him more forcefully down on his cock. It was a propitious move, for suddenly it was as though thousands of volts had passed through Evan's body. His body shot up off the sleeping bag and against Ron as his cock began to spew between them. Evan was moving his cock in frantic, hard, tight circles on Ron's hard abs to increase the power of his orgasm. Ron shouted as he rammed as deeply as possible into Evan, filling him with his seed. They continued in their struggle of love, feeling once again that mysterious merging of one into the other. They would have appeared to an onlooker as though they were locked in fierce combat. But it was a divine combat, driving them to give the other the most pleasure and love possible and to accept the other's labors of love.

Gradually, their bodies grew still and relaxed although they still clasped each other tightly. In an afterglow as powerful as their orgasms, they kissed and hugged and licked each other's faces and necks. Over five minutes they eventually stilled, relaxing their hold on the other but not moving apart. They began to give each other gentle caresses amid the kisses, whispering their love in each other's ear.

Miles and Jim and picked up things at the garden plot and returned them to the farmhouse, where they began preparations for the grilling the steaks. Eventually, Jim looked at his wristwatch. Smiling, he walked over to Miles, pulling his into a tight embrace and hungrily devouring his mouth. "Wow!" Miles exclaimed.

"We need to go roust out the lovers," Jim said by way of explanation.

"Wish it were us?" Miles asked.

"Of course, and it may be before the moon rises. If not, I'm going to be baying all over the place." Miles's head fell back in unfettered laughter, delighting in his lover's carnal appetite.

They ambled out across the back yard and then across the farmyard to the barn. They strolled inside, immediately spotting the garden tools leaning against a stall. "Miles," Jim said in exasperation but loud enough that it could be heard in the loft, "look at this. Someone's brought the garden tools here to the barn. They belong in the shed. Now we'll have to tote them back there."

"The nerve of some people!" Miles agreed, stifling a laugh. "Hey, what are we going to do with those extra steaks we were going to grill for our buddies? They've disappeared. I guess they didn't have steaks on their mind."

"Guess if they don't show in about five minutes, we'll have to feed them to the dog," Jim opined.

Suddenly Ron's voice came from the loft. "You do and we'll piss on your radishes." Jim and Miles broke into gales of laughter.

"Be certain to get the hay out of each other's hair," Jim advised, "and other nooks and crannies where it's collected."

"Eat me!" came back Evan's tart response.

"Did you hear the wind come up just then?" Jim asked Miles.

"I guess it's going to storm tonight. We'd better stoke the fire in the grill and get those steaks on," he told Jim as they ambled out of the barn, carrying the garden implements with them.

*** One evening the next week at the Morgan home, while helping his mother prepare dinner, Troy was discussing family finances with his mother Emily. She had been startled a few weeks prior when overdraft notices from the bank started flooding the mailbox. Since she was a CPA, such notices were unheard of in the Morgan home. In short order, she had discovered Roy's perfidy, leaving them nothing. To her, it was another act tantamount to throwing Troy out of their home, cheating on her, and striking Riley. It said he simply didn't care about his family. She had thought that at least in the approaching unpleasantness of the divorce and dealing with the legal charges against Roy, some degree of love for his family would reduce acrimony and bitterness. His final gesture told her there would be no such buffer in their future dealings. She'd had to arrange for a short-term loan quickly to tide the family over until the next payday. "Does that mean you'll never get your share of the money in those accounts?" Troy asked. "That doesn't seem fair."

"Part of the divorce settlement," Emily explained, "is buying your father's share of this property. Miles has stipulated with Roy's attorney that my half of those bank funds will be subtracted from what I owe him."

"Will Dad agree to that?" Troy asked.

"He'll have no choice," Emily said softly. "He won't receive his share of this house until I'm paid back that money. Given what I'm hearing, you father will want the money more than making a point to me. Besides, the community property law in this state says everything must be divided evenly. Those bank funds are part of our married property. By law, they must be split evenly. If Miles raises the issue, the judge will stipulate as much in the court order accepting the divorce settlement. So indirectly or directly, your father is going to return my share of the money."

Mom, what do you hear about Dad these days? How's he doing?"

"I hear only rumors."

"Like what?"

Emily sighed. "Now remember, I heard this from a coworker whose sister-in-law works in your father's firm, so I don't know it for a fact. It seems your father has been moved from his position as Director of Marketing and made Sales Manager of the western sales region of the state."

"Oh!" Troy exclaimed softly. "That sounds like a demotion."

"In effect, yes, but it isn't one your father can protest. He still has standing in the managerial structure of the corporation, but it won't be as high as he was, nor will it be at headquarters here in the city."

"Do you think his legal problems caused it?"

"No. It seems your father took it upon himself to suggest to the CEO, Bruce Corbett, that a department head be fired. That's crossing the line of propriety. If this person wasn't your father's supervisor or your father didn't work with him, it was inappropriate for Roy to make such a suggestion. It isn't your father's business to be telling other managers how to conduct the responsibilities linked to their positions. But I'm not surprised to hear that he behaved that way."

"Yeah," Justin added, "just the way he butts in to tell us how to play ball. Even telling us to ignore what our coach says."

"Just like that," Emily agreed.

"Does that mean Dad will stay here in the city or move way out west?"

"He'll have to move. His firm doesn't tolerate 'absentee leaders' who manage via fax, phone, and e-mail. Current thinking holds that the only way to promote sales and maintain customer relationships is to be right out there with your sales team. It's also the only way to meet and beat the competition. So your father will have to move out there."

"How can he do that with the legal charges he's facing."

Emily looked startled, studying Troy. "You're right. I hadn't thought that far ahead. That may throw a wrench in the works," she said softly.

"Do you think Dad is looking forward to the move?"

"I doubt it. He'll have to leave his girl friends - unless they move out there with him. Most of the time that's easier said than done. In addition, moving your father out to head the western sales district will cause problems for the head office here. Your father worked in sales only a couple of years out of college before he moved into marketing. Even though he has little background in sales, they'll be moving him in over people out west who have more sales experience and were wanting that position. Some of them will resent Roy for that alone, and if your father doesn't turn that situation around, it will ultimately have a negative effect on their operations in the west."

Troy thought a moment. "It sounds as though they really want Dad out of headquarters. Is this setting Dad up to be fired?"

Emily paused for a moment in her preparation of dinner. "Well, if your father is going to tread into areas where he has no business being, stirring up trouble, you can see why they might want to move him out. As for being set up to be fired, I don't think so. Your father has an opportunity to make this new position work just as anyone put in the position would. Even though it may be some distance out there, they do good business in that region. If he works at it, Roy can achieve success and open a new dimension in his career. If he doesn't succeed, it's his failure. I don't think they would ruin their success in the western region by placing your father there just to fail. They didn't get where they are being so foolish."

"You really impress me, Mom."

"Oh? That's nice to hear. Why are you impressed?" Emily asked

"Your business savvy. That's obviously why your firm made you comptroller. Did you learn that in college?"

Such uncustomary praise from Morgan men made Emily smile. "College teaches you knowledge and skills and imparts vision - well, for those who are open to it. But what you call savvy we would also call 'street smarts' for urban dwellers. Or the kind of smarts a rookie has to develop who moves into pro sports. Comparably, there's such a thing as workplace smarts. That must be what you mean."

"Dad doesn't have workplace smarts, it sounds like."

"No. He doesn't. Your father thinks he's a finished product with no growing or developing required of him." She paused a moment. "For some reason I can't fathom, your father thinks others are privileged just being in a room with him, being in a department or company with him - being in a relationship with him. He never proves that it's true; he just thinks it is."

"So how did you develop your workplace smarts?" Troy asked.

Before replying, Emily cocked her head to the side, thinking. "Well, that's a good question, one I've not addressed formally. I so often find that it's right there under the surface, on the tip of my tongue or at my fingertips when I'm at my computer. If one has been around long enough, been observant, and tried to learn through observation, it just right there."

"Like the way Cody and I automatically know how to play basketball when we're on the court?"

"Exactly like that." She smiled. "Court smarts!"

A lull in the conversation occurred at that point as Emily and Troy carried dishes into the dining room table. "It doesn't sound as though we'll be seeing Dad as much in the future," Troy observed.

"Do you think you'd have seen more of him here if he remained in the city?" Emily asked. Troy shook his head in the negative.

*** The plot to link Dave Hernandez and Emily Morgan had advanced sufficiently that Dave, upon receiving Audrey, Jenny's and Rene's ultimatum, had called Emily to entreat her to accompany him to the dinner. It was a long phone conversation. Emily had thought it cute the way Dave danced around the invitation before finally ever issuing it. He'd begun by telling her about the major health/sports project the Physical Education Department wanted to create, endorsed by the principal and school board. He'd told her how he'd been impressed into serving as a leader in the effort. Then he'd shyly told her about the ultimatum. He'd indicated that he wasn't dating, so since she wasn't as well, he wondered if she'd take pity on him and accompany him to the potluck dinner at the school. He'd named the categories of those who'd be present.

At first, Emily was startled, thinking that she couldn't date while still married to Roy. But Dave had charmed her, and she felt a tug on her heart as she listened not just to his words but also to his voice, which stirred something deep within her. Then she remembered Roy and his girl friends. "Well, if it isn't a date, I think I'd love to accompany you to the dinner, Dave. I certainly believe in the program as you've outlined it, so I'd like to hear more about it. And I suddenly realize that I've been homebound for quite a while. An evening out would be pleasant." And then she added, daringly she thought, "And an evening in your company would only increase the enjoyment."

Dave's eyebrows shot up as though he'd shot the ball through the hoop standing at the opposite end of the basketball court. Then a smiled filled his face. They'd gone on to make their plans.

When the appointed evening arrived, Justin answered the door of the Morgan home, greeting Dave effusively. "Hey, Coach, come in. We've been expecting you." Dave shook Justin's hand, returning his greeting just as Drew came out of the family room, hailing Dave. Hearing the greetings, Troy came out of his bedroom and down the stairs, smiling and extending his hand to Dave just as Riley shot out of the kitchen. The two men's eyes communicated more than just glances. They communicated their eagerness for the Dave's and Emily's being a couple to reach fruition. Watching Troy and Dave shake hands, Riley walked right up to Dave, holding out his hand too.

"Hey, Riley, good to see you," Dave exclaimed. Hearing the hubbub in the foyer, Emily smiled. 'We need more of that around here,' she thought to herself. She grabbed a jacket and descended the stairs. Dave looked up, dazzled by what he saw. 'Every man should see his beloved descending from on high to grace his presence,' he thought.

"Are you guys going on a date like Troy, Susan, and Cody?" Riley asked. Dave looked puzzled. Trying not to blush, Troy thought, 'Oh boy, gonna have to have another talk with Riley.' He saw the muscles in Drew and Justin's throats pulsing as they tried to stifle laughter.

Realizing that Riley was awaiting an answer, Dave moved the question about a three-way date that Riley had prompted to the back of his mind. "No, Riley, we aren't on a date. I need to attend a dinner. They told me if I didn't bring a friend with me, they wouldn't let me in. So your mom saved me by agreeing to go with me."

Riley looked at Dave skeptically, then Emily, then his brothers, where the skepticism on his face grew. "Hey, Man, give me a break!" Dave exclaimed laughing. "We're going to eat with a lot of other folks at the high school, talk about a school health plan, and then probably talk a lot longer about sports." Realizing that Riley wasn't persuaded, Emily smiled, walking to the kitchen to put the casserole she had prepared on Dave's behalf in a carrier and returned to the foyer, handing the carrier to Troy. "Here, Hon, you can put this in Dave's car for us." Then she kissed each of the boys good night. When she reached Riley, she bent down, kissing him, and then telling him, "We're just going to the school, Riley."

"Why don't you ask Coach to marry you?" Riley shot back. Everyone but Riley and Emily broke into laughter. He looked at them all disdainfully; he was quite serious.

When the laughter quieted, Dave turned to Emily. "Yeah, why don't you?" he asked. Emily immediately blushed. To save her from more embarrassment, Troy began easing them to the door. "Now you kids be careful tonight. No speeding," he intoned in the manner of generations of parents exhorting their charges to upright behavior. "And remember your curfew." Then a sly look moved onto Troy's face. Staring at Dave he said, "And you kids play safe." Justin and Drew immediately choked, holding back laughs. Without Emily's being able to see it, a red-faced Dave flipped Troy the bird, setting Justin and Drew into gales of laughter. Riley just looked from one to another, certain that the wool was being pulled over his eyes some way, a stubborn look on his face.

'Oh, no,' Troy thought as he preceded Dave and Emily to Dave's car where he placed the casserole on the floor of the back seat. 'Now I'm going to get the third degree from Detective First Class Riley Morgan.' As he stood up again, looking across the roof of the car, he glimpsed Dave looking down into Emily's face as he held the door open for her, his eyes aglow. Emily was returning the look, her eyes twinkling. Seized with prescience, Troy flashed an image of Dave, clad in a dark suit with a boutonniere on the lapel, opening the door for Emily, also wearing a suit and a white corsage, both about to depart on their honeymoon. Troy could hardly wait to tell Susan about his vision. He smiled, welcoming Dave Hernandez a little prematurely as stepfather of the Morgan brothers.

The End