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"BRIARWOOD"
aka "Whence Cometh My Help"
R.S.V.
A dramatic saga
by
Ritch Christopher
literary enhancement
by
Les Martin
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BOOK ONE
Chapter Ten
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"...you hold her thinking, 'I'm not alone'.
You're still alone."
Stephen Sondheim
"Sorry-Grateful"
from "Company"
Act I (1970)
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Rob Hawley had been a happy nervous wreck since he had started his clandestine interludes with Timmy. His marriage to Clarissa was a farce from the word 'go'. She had lied about a false pregnancy to trap him into a 'save face' nuptial arrangement. He had not had sex with her a single time since they had said their vows. Neither his nor her parents were aware of situation. The only thing that aroused suspicions was the fact that they had no children and the subject of having a family was always avoided.
Rob was as talented as he was handsome. He couldn't watch a Broadway number featured on 'The Rosie Show' without getting angry thinking about what he could or might have been. He was not only a singer, but he played piano beautifully and had written scads of compositions, both classical and musical comedy.
It was shortly before their wedding that he realized he was gay. He had no desire to have sex with Clarissa, or any other female for that matter. The extent of his sexual activities was in dark rooms at triple-X video stores across the state lines. He had only known strangers until the arrangement with Timmy occurred. At first, the meetings with Timmy were no more than 'getting-off' sessions, but after a week, Rob found himself falling in love with Timmy.
Timmy needed Rob as much as Rob needed him. But due to his teaching position, he was unable to ever reveal his love affair. Prior to that time, Rob had submerged himself in his work of career placement, finding jobs for all those who needed guidance. However, Rob felt no one needed guidance more than he did himself.
During the first couple of years of his marriage, he had sent manuscript after manuscript of his opera (opuses), only to be rejected time and time again. There seemed to be no demand for his compositions. Melodies and tunes streamed through his mind constantly. Times had changed though, especially in the world of commercial music. No one wanted to hear the complexity of a valse or polonaise. It seemed that unless you could write a four note repetitive riff and find some inane lyrical cliché, ending every other phrase with "Oh, bay-bey" or "Come on now, let's hear it", a-la Backstreet Boys or n'sync or O Town, you didn't stand a chance in hell of ever being published. The world was satisfied now with mediocrity, it seemed. It wasn't a matter of how talented you were, but how cute you looked to a crowd of screaming teen queens.
As far as Rob's singing went, several times he had made secret 'business' trips to New York to audition at cattle calls for new musicals. Many times he had even gotten a 'call back' which he never attended. He knew he couldn't support himself and his wife on a measly chorus boy salary. He also realized that Clarissa would be a burden on him in pursuit of the lifestyle he wanted or, rather, needed. The biweekly trysts with Timmy were the only things that maintained his sanity. Timmy represented the thing in life he missed the most... someone to love and someone to love him in return. If he had his druthers, he would divorce Clarissa and run off with Timmy to New York, Hollywood, or off into the sunset. But he knew that a divorce would 'kill' his parents, those staunch members of the Lutheran Church. His parents had all but disowned him when he started singing in the choir at St. Genesius. Things had been great for the past few weeks, and now this 'Timmy scandal'... He knew Timmy was innocent, but he also knew the probable repercussions from the community even if no evidence was found to convict him. Once a person's name has ever been linked with the word, 'molester', no matter how innocent the 'accused' was, he can never erase that moniker from his reputation. In society's eyes, the 'accused' is always guilty. He could be a robber, adulterer, even a murderer and regain his social status, but child molester?...Forget it!
The accusation of Timmy had made Rob cautious, so much so that he had even stopped sitting by Timmy in the church choir loft for fear he, too, would be accused of guilt by association. Rob suddenly felt like St. Peter when he had denied knowing Jesus. When the two of them met in public, they had to don a "super-straight" facade. Goddammit, this wasn't right! Why should society dictate anyone's love relationship as long as it was legal and no one got hurt? As much as he loved Timmy, they must keep their distance if they wanted to continue their rendezvous. In spite of all the progress GayPride had made, when would it be politically correct to be openly gay?
Rob just wanted Timmy's ordeal to be over so that they could salvage what remained of their beginning. They had to put their faith and trust in Roger to find the truth.
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"...and if we could live twice
I'd make life paradise
for someone really nice
like you."
Newley-Bricusse
"Stop the World"
Act II (1960)
Jay thought it was time to have his serious talk with Troy. Although Troy was temporarily physically handicapped and had been injured emotionally by Kitty Marsden, he was still in full control of his faculties. There had been an instant attraction between the two the first time they had met. Maybe it was because they were both incapacitated with dubious prognoses that a feeling of empathy was exuded from each to the other. But since both of them had shown signs of recovery and rehabilitation, they sensed a new hope that perhaps a longer and more lasting relationship might be possible.
"I had a long talk with Cliff". Jay said to Troy as he began the afternoon massage.
"About what?"
"My feelings---and what I should do about them."
"Feelings? Concerning?"
"Me, mostly, I suppose. As a victim of AIDS, should I make plans for the future or would that just be smoking a pipe dream?"
After a moment Troy quietly asked,"What did Cliff say?"
"Just what I thought he would...besides being a pragmatist, Cliff is also a realistic optimist."
"Explain...?"
"He believes in the old 'rah, rah, live today like there's no tomorrow' platitude."
"He's a priest, Jay. That goes with his job."
"I know, but I'm NOT a priest and, unlike him, I'm infected with a terminal condition and have no right to plan a long-range future."
"That's bullshit, Jay. You might outlive everyone in this house. Two weeks ago, did my future look bright? Fuck, no! Look at Timmy in the living room. Do you think he has a lot to live for, right now? Who would've thought that the other night, when Kendall left my bedroom, a hour later he would be dead? any NO ONE can plan a long range life with certainty. Look at the 'boy in the plastic bubble' who was totally safe from the outside world, but he died while he was still just a kid. Why do you think that there are so many goddamned insurance salesmen out there betting against you? You show me one person that can predict the future actually, and I'll start aworld-wide telethon to build him a temple and we'll all bow down and worship him!!"
"Jesus, Troy, I wasn't trying to evoke a sermon from you! I was only trying to decide if I should tell you---that I'm in love with you."
"Oh? Is that all?" Troy replies almost flippantly. "Well....have you decided yet?"
"I think so." Jay answered.
"Well, did you decide if you were going to tell me or did you decide if you WERE in love with me?"
"Both." Jay said, almost gulping, a frog in his throat. "I didn't want to say anything to you because, at this point in my life, I don't think I could stand a rejection from you. And if I DID say something and you told me that you loved me, how could I be certain you weren't just being kind, or maybe showing pity toward me?"
"Jay, I've never felt pity for you. The things that Cliff said about you responding to your new diet, drugs, and exercise, why, you look like the healthiest one in the house. You look and feel strong. I can tell by how deeply you rub my back you know!. Looking at you, no one would ever suspect you had ever been sick...So believe me when I say, I offer you NO pity. You don't need it!"
"Well, if you don't feel 'pity', do you...do you feel anything at all for me?"
"You know I do. Jay. Otherwise why would I have asked you to move in here with me?"
"Yeah, but...do you love me at all?"
"Jay, I have never loved a man...and I have seldom loved a woman. I haven't had that much experience when it comes to loving. When I met Cliff when I felt what kind of person he is, I started to know what love feels like...and then I met Roger...and I saw how he and Cliff love each other. I didn't know such a pure love could exist. I knew I'd never felt that way, and that I would probably never find someone I'd feel that way about...but then a funny thing happened. I was invited to live in Cliff's and Roger's house of love and I met this funny, good-looking guy that aware of eelings that I thought would never recu. I met someone I thought I COULD love, only he was afraid to love me. He was afraid he wouldn't live long enough to provide me with happiness. He was so afraid about not being around in the future, he couldn't see how happy he made me, every day, in every way, right here and now, in the present."
"Are you saying that you...?"
"Jay, what I'm trying to say is, yes, I'm in love with you today....and if we're both around tomorrow, I'll be in love with you then, and the next day and the next, until maybe one or both of us won't be here. And when that day arrives, the one of us who is still around will continue loving the other in his heart."
"Jesus, you're as bad as Cliff! I ask a simple question and I get a long dissertation....Was that a 'yes' or a 'no'?"
"It was a 'yes', you asshole. YES, I do love you and, YES, I am in love with you...in spite of all the paralyses or AIDS in the world. It doesn't matter to me!...Now, do I have to fuck you just to get you to kiss me?"
"My, my, what a tantalizing thought!!" Jay said as he closed the distance between him and Jay, his lips aching to physically announce his feeling for Troy.
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"...Once more through the door,
once more as before,
into a land where I can leave things behind.
Please take me there,
there are things I must find.
Oh, I wish I were a kid again,
doing what I did again....
A kid again..."
J.Melfi-R.Barry
"My Name is Barbra"
CBS-TV 1965
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Jason and Tony were proud of their ID bracelets, and why shouldn't they be? It wasn't every day you got a 24 caret gold present from a kid your own age whom you'd never met, a gift that announced to those who shold know that the recipients had a very special bond. They were also very exited by the conversation they'd had at the church, concerning love---and masturbation. Bedtime for the two of them was 11:00PM on school nights, so at 10:00 every night, each took the phone into his bedroom for a bedtime chat before 'lights out'. Tonight they'd have a lot to talk about, other than video games,movies, and 98 Degrees, their favorite group.
"Did you say anything to your mom yet?" Tony was first to ask.
"Nope, I haven't figured out how to say it yet."
"I know "how", I just don't know "what" to say."
"Heck, they know we're normal guys and they should know that guys our age 'beat-off'." Jason said.
"Yeah, but not with another guy!" Tony replied.
"Why not? I bet our dads did it with other guys when they were our age. You know very well that both our dads were boy scouts and, well, that's the kind of thing all boy scouts do."
"They say they don't...I heard 'em say it on TV."
"That's cause they voted to keep the queers out."
"Well, just because they beat-off together doesn't make 'em queer. I mean, WE'RE not queer, are we?"
"The Baptists might think we are."
"Don't the Baptists masturbate, too?"
"They say they don't! They claim they have wet dreams while they're asleep...and that's God's way of keeping their juices milked so their balls won't explode from being too full."
"Golly, do you think a person's balls COULD explode?"
"You and I will never know, we keep ours pretty well drained." he snickered.
"I feel sorry for the Baptist boys--- they don't know what they're missing!...What do you think would happen if someone caught them beating off or doing the things that we like?"
"Well, I've heard if they get caught masturbating, they have to spend all of the next summer at a Baptist Bible camp, until they're cured. I don't know what would happen if they got caught sucking on a dick...I imagine the punishment would be something terrible, like getting circumcised all over again until you've only got about two inches left...and then they pour alcohol on the freshly cut stump!"
"Ooooh! That's awful, Jason! You think they would really do that?"
"That's how strong Baptists feel about penis problems. I've heard the actual queers, what few they have in the Baptist Church, are taken away from their families and have to live in penal colonies.!"
"What's a penal colony?"
"I'm not sure, I just know it has something to do with penises."
"I'm just glad we go to church where we do...where there's no rules about masturbation or dick-sucking. Do you think all the men in our church do it?"
"What? Masturbate or suck dicks?"
"Both!"
"I figure all the men in our church masturbate and MOST of them have sucked a dick at least once in their lives."
"What do you think about your dad? Do you think he's ever sucked a dick?"
"Probably, I know he always needs to come into the bathroom to pee every time I'm naked in there taking a bath or a shower. One time he even stopped to look at my penis and asked me if I had a `beforeskin' and I didn't know what that was. So he knelt down by the bathtub and grabbed my penis and pulled that loose skin back and forth...and then he smiled and said, 'That's good, Tony, you're in good shape."
"What'd he mean by that?"
"Who knows? I'm just glad he stopped when he did 'cause in another minute. I'd have had a hard-on and I would have had a hard time explaining that!"
"That's funny, because it's my mom who likes to see me naked. She always needs to powder her nose or get some vitamins or eyedrops out of the medicine cabinet every time I bathe."
"Wow! It's one thing to have your dad see you naked, 'cause he's a man, too....but your MOM...she's a WOMAN. and it's different when she sees you that way...I'd be embarrassed to let my mom know I'd grown hairdown there. It's all right for dad to see it 'cause he has hair there, too."
"Don't worry--our moms have pubic hair. My mom's got this big triangular bushy patch right between her thighs. You can't see where the pee comes out cause it's all covered up with hair."
"That's where her hole is, Jason!"
"I know that. I just don't know how I came out of such a tiny hole when I was born."
"You were very, very little when you were born. Your dad's penis had to fit in that hole to make you and you were probably about the same size as his penis when you came out. That's what the penis does, it pries the woman's vagina wide enough for the baby to come out."
"How do you know all these things, Tony?"
"I read a lot."
"Wow, I don't think there's a book like that anywhere in my house."
"I'll loan you a couple and you can hide 'em under your mattress."
"Tony, what we were talking about earlier...about the Baptists?...Do you think you and I are queer for doing the things we do?"
"Nope."
"Why not?"
"Because we love each other while we're doing it."
"And that makes it all right?"
"Yep. It's people who have sex without loving...they're the sinners! Not us!".
"How do you know?"
"It says so, somewhere in the Bible...I read it one time."
"Darn, I wish I read as much as you do."
"You don't have to read. You've got me to teach you about everything I read."
"You want to pretend we're jerking off together like we did on the phone last night?"
"Sure, if YOU want to."
"Tell me, have you ever done anything with another boy besides me?"
"No...Have you?"
"No...you're the only one I love."
"And you're the only one I'll ever love, too....OK, now where do you want to start?"
"Same as last night...you gotta get completely naked first."
"Wait until I lock my door."
"I'll lock mine, too."
"Now, are you ready?"
"Yeah."
"OK, let's begin. Pretend I'm spending the night with you at your house in your bed....and we're both naked....and I reach over and grab you...and you reach over and grab me...and...."
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",,,And when I've said all my say,
you may be old and gray,
but you'll not get away
from me."
Rodgers & Hart
"I'll Tell The Man In The Street"
from "I Married an Angel"
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When Cliff arrived home from the church, Roger had opened a bottle of champagne and was pouring a glass for Timmy.
"Hey, babe!", Roger greeted as he toasted Cliff with his glass held high.
"Now don't waste a moment. Tell me EVERYTHING and don't leave out a comma!!" Cliff said.
"Well, apparently Rob's wife, Clarissa, was being hassled by her parents for not getting pregnant...and after a long inquisition, she let it out of the bag to her father that she suspected Rob was cheating on her. She didn't even hint he could've been unfaithful with another guy. So it seems her old man hired a private detective to follow Rob and see who his mysterious lady-friend might be. A few nights later, the detective found Rob at a motel out on Highway #35 and took pictures of Rob and Timmy doing the 'dirty deed'!"
Roger's voice got more excited as he continued his story.
"Well, when Mr. Latham saw the photos, he instantly recognized Timmy and decided the best way to save his daughter's marriage was to get rid of Timmy. So he had Clarissa disguise her voice and call, not only Judge Wilkinson, but Timmy's father, Tom Woodrow, the principal, and say that Timmy had molested her son. She said she wouldn't reveal her identity because she didn't want to ruin her son's' reputation with his peers. So Samuel hired a lawyer, Howard Errico, to represent the molested 'victim' with instructions not to reveal his employer. The lawyer, Errico, presented a phony affidavit to the judge of a deposition he'd supposedly taken from his client, the victim, alleging Timmy's guilt. Then, when Timmy's father heard the charges and supposed proof that his son was having an affair---with another man---well, hat's when Tom agreed to fire or replace Timmy. He not only wanted Timmy out of his school, he wanted him out of his life."
The story left Cliff confused and he had many questions to ask.
"So Kitty had nothing to do with it?" That was his first question.
"Nope." Roger replied. "It was Clarissa and her father who planned the scheme and took advantage of Judge Wilkinson's homophobic views, all compounded by Tom Woodrow's embarrassment at learning his son was gay."
"Well, what do you plan to do with all this information?" Cliff asked.
"First of all, we need to get Rob over here and tell him what his wife and father-in-law did to Timmy. Secondly, we need to find out if Rob wants to leave Clarissa. And, third, we have to decide if we want to sue...and, if so, WHO we want to sue...and for how much? Timmy certainly has a case of slander, defamation of character, the intent to deter him from his job and livelihood, just for starters...and from there, we'll just see how far we can go. One thing for sure-- Timmy can get his job back, IF he wants it!"
"Good God! Roger! You found all this out in just one day?" Cliff asked, his astonishment showing in his voice.
"It all depends on WHO you know, not always WHAT you know, that makes the difference, my love." Roger replied.
"How do you feel, Timmy?" Cliff asked.
"Better....I'm mad as hell...but at least the weight has been lifted off my shoulders.....Right now, I'm more worried about Rob and what's going to happen to him, facing the wrath of Clarissa and Mr. Latham." Rob said.
"Timmy, don't worry about Rob...by the time I get through with his wife and her father, they'll be sorry they ever wanted Rob Hawley to be part of their family."
Only moments later, there was a knock at the back door. As expected, it was Rob.
"Cliff, do you think it would be all right if I saw Timmy alone for a minute?"
"Of course, Rob. If anything, I think he's been expecting you."
Rob rushed into the living room where Timmy and Roger sat, still drinking champagne.
"Timmy, I need to talk with you, privately. It's very important!" Rob said.
"Sit down, Rob," Roger invited. "Get yourself a glass and have some champagne or something stronger...Before you and Timmy talk privately, we have a few things to tell. You're gonna need a drink by the time we get through telling you what's happened."
"Whaddya mean?" Rob asked, nervously.
For the next half hour, Roger and Timmy took turns relating the happenings that had led up to today's events. Rob's expressions changed over two dozen times as he listened...from shock to disbelief...from anger to embarrassment....the full gamut of emotions...all except happiness. When the recitation was over, Rob put his hands over his face and wept.
"Oh, my God, I'm so sorry, Timmy...I never realized until just now how much I actually hated Clarissa...she's nothing more than a conniving cunt. I hope you sue her father and old Tom has to spend the rest of his life in jail...AFTER I tar and feather him!...God! I can't believe this!!...I'm so embarrassed...I'm so ashamed!!...God! Please forgive me!!"
Timmy rushed over to the couch to comfort Rob. Cliff stood there looking proudly at Roger, the 'miracle worker' as Roger looked back at Cliff and winked.
"Well, what do we do first?" Cliff asked.
"I think the first thing we do is ask Timmy to find some drawer space in his bedroom because I think our family is about to increase to six...Rob, would you like any or all of us to accompany you home while you pack some clothes and some of your belongings?" Roger asked.
"I think it best if Timmy stays here, but if you and Cliff want to go with me, I'd be eternally grateful."
"Think I should take my shotgun?" Roger joked, half seriously.
"Roger, what are you saying?" Cliff all but shouted in disbelief.
"Just kidding, babe, just kidding."
Cliff wanted to believe Roger was kidding, but on the other hand, he thought,maybe it was'not a bad idea.
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"Some day, we'll build a home
on a hilltop high,
you and I.
We will make changes
as any family will.
And we'll be pleased
to be called
The Folks Who Live On The Hill."
J.Kern & O. Hammerstein II
"High, Wide and Handsome"
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The following day, the parsonage was like Grand Central Station with phone calls, Timmy making room for Rob, who was moving his personal effects from his house to the rectory, lawyers calling Roger, subpoenas being sent out, a constant parade of cars filled with on-lookers, the media trying to capture that award-winning photo, etc. Cliff was so glad he had his duties at the church to get out of that clamor. He hoped it would all die down by the time he returned at 5:30.
As Cliff started to leave for the church, a very handsome man of about 35, dressed in an expensivedark blue suit, presented himself at the door, asking to see Roger privately. Assuming he was one of Timmy's lawyers, Cliff invited him in and showed him into the study. As soon as he saw Roger, the man quite obiously undressed Roger with his eyes. This man was quite taken back by Roger. Cliff was trying not to notice. but he was more curious about Roger's returning glance. Roger had given the new-comer the 'once-over' too. Cliff decided to dismiss the glances as nothing more than mutual admiration. Roger and Cliff had the understanding between them that there would never be a reason to be jealous. so Cliff wasn't!...But still, the looks they exchanged? Theyslightly bothered him. Cliff had never seen Roger look at anyone but him that way. At any rate, Cliff said his morning goodbyes and left for the church.
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"Roger", the man said, "I'm Lance Everett. I'm an attorney representing a client who wishes to propose a deal to you."
"Are you here representing Mr. Wilkinson, Tom Hawley, or Clarissa Hawley?" Roger asked.
"No," replied Lance, "I'm afraid I don't know any of the people you just mentioned. I'm here representing someone else."
"Does your business have anything to do with Timmy or Rob?"
"Again, I don't know who you are talking about."
"All right, then, who?" asked Roger, getting straight to the point.
"You will pardon my being so forward. but I saw your name in Forbes Magazine and saw you listed with Dunn and Bradstreet...and I am quite familiar with your present financial holdings."
"I'm not ashamed of it! I take it then that you're here asking for some kind of donation?"
"Quite the contrary. I'm here to offer you a deal I hope you can't refuse, a deal that will help my client out at the same time."
"What kind of deal and may I ask the name of your client??" Roger was still pressing for details.
"As you know, Roger...May I call you that?"
"Certainly, Lance."
"Well, as you know, Roger, the stock market has had its leaps and dives since the new presidential administration took over."
"I've noticed, but luckily most of my money is not invested in the stock market."
"I know. That's another reason why I'm here. Your money is secure in trustsand the market can't hurt you one way or the other."
"Go on..." Roger said impatiently.
"My client, on the other hand, has not been as fortunate as you. Most of my client's wealth was on the open trade market and over the past few weeks, his stocks have all become worthless...You might say my client is in a financial bind."
"I'm sorry, but what has that got to do with me....Is your client looking for a personal loan from me?"
"Not exactly. It seems, to keep from going under, my client must liquidate some assets and convert them to cash."
"So you want to sell me something?"
"I'm hoping you'll make an offer to buy something."
"What do you have that might interest me?"
"What I'm about to say is in absolute confidence?"
"Agreed," said Roger, "Quit stalling and get to it!...I'm sorry, but I have other pressing matters."
"Would you like to consider buying the Marsden Estate?"
"WHAT?" Roger raised his voice. "You mean the entire thing?"
"Everything...the manor, all the grounds, consisting of over 1000 acres, the livestock, including the race horses, the prize cattle...everything!" Lance said.
"I have to ask--what's up with Ms. Kitty?"
"I'm not at liberty to reveal all the details of her misfortune, but I have been designated to find a buyer on the Q.T. without possibly having to advertise her estate on the open real estate market....Would you be interested?"
Roger thought for a moment, then smiled. "Quite possibly. I would have to see it in its entirety before I make a decision...and then, there's the price, of course."
"Being that Ms. Marsden is in dire need of cash, the price is quite negotiable."
"Are you saying, she's broke?"
"Putting it bluntly, yes." Lance said. "I could find other potential buyers to call on, but Ms. Marsden suggested that I offer it to you, since she read in Forbes about your newly inherited wealth. Is it possible that you can get away this morning and come take a look at the place?"
"I suppose I could get away for about an hour if you think that's enough time to make a decision."
"How about right now? I could drive you over there myself and bring you back. We could talk in the car and I'll try to answer any questions you might have."
"I can go if you allow me enough time to talk with a few people I have waiting on me in the living room."
"Take your time. We'll leave whenever you're ready."
"Thank you, I should only be a few minutes." In no time at all, they were in Lance's car heading for the Marsden estate. They drove in silence for a short while, though each stole a glance at the other from time to time before the silence was broken.
"I hope you'll pardon my being so frank, Roger, but I find you physically extremely handsome."." "Thanks...and may I say, I can't remember meeting such a good-looking lawyer."
"Well, does that mean the two of us have already found a common denominator?"
Roger was never one to mince words. He suddenly looked squarely at Lance, and said, "You're gay, aren't you?"
"Why would you think that?" Lance said, blushing.
"The way you came on to me a little while ago.. I could feel it from across the room."
"Does the old adage, 'It takes one...' apply in this case?"
"I've known guys who've had fantasies about me....."
"Lucky them..."
"Now I KNOW you're coming on to me."
"Would I be making a fool of myself if I did?"
"Probably, I'm afraid....As they say in the old school, 'I'm taken', so to speak."
"Lucky him, then..."Lance said. "How long have you been with your--your lover?"
"All my life."
"Wow! When you find something you want, you obviously know how to keep it!"
"You could say that."
"Have the two of you remained faithful to each other all these years?"
"Off and on. We've strayed in the past, but nothing ever got so serious we couldn't make up and get back together."
"So---would you say your relationship is 'open'?"
"Open to friendship, but not affairs."
"That's good to know."
"By the way, Lance, you still haven't mentioned a price for the estate!"
"Please don't tell Ms. Marsden I told you, but at this point in her life, she's willing to accept any reasonable offer you might make."
"How about a hundred-thousand dollars?" Roger asked, tongue in cheek.
"I said REASONABLE, not highway robbery."
"Why don't we wait until I look the place over and see if I'm interested in buying it at all?"
"Fair enough...Here we are..."
The car turned into the long drive and the closer Roger got to the main house, the more he fell in love with the whole estate, He had only gotten a glimpse of the grounds the day Kendall was buried, but he knew he wanted to buy it for himself and Cliff and the cost didn't matter to Roger. If the world, the stars, the moon, and the heavens above were for sale, Roger would've tried to buy it---for Cliff.
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Cliff's day at the church was uneventful--the usual mail and phone calls to take care of. He had already written his sermon for the following Sunday and selected the accompanying hymns. He didn't want to sound too much like his rival denominations, but his flock was going to hear a watered-down version of bearing false witness against their neighbor (band director!). He had considered passing out a sheet containing revised lyrics to the hymn, "What a Friend" changing the second line to "Oh, what needless blame we bear.", but there was no reason to pour salt into the wound. Cliff had never been spiteful, even though in this case, he had good cause to be. He was sure by now that correct summonses and subpoenas had been served to the guilty, That, in itself, gave him satisfaction he didn't really need , due to his occupation...but what the hell? Cliff had been human long before he became a priest.
When he arrived home, the jubilation was still going on. Troy was seated at the dining table and Jay, Timmy, and Rob were busy getting supper ready for the six of them. Jay told Cliff that Roger was in the study and wanted to see him before dinner.
Cliff walked into the study and Roger sat behind Cliff's desk with a very serious look on his face that Cliff couldn't quite read. He tried to soften the mood by saying, "Hi, my love."
"Hello Cliff...Would you sit down please? I have something to say,"
A chill went through Cliff's body as he had never seen Roger so stern and somber.
"What's wrong?" Cliff asked.
"I have something important I need to discuss..."
"Well, go ahead...I'm ready."
"Cliff, I've decided to move out of the house."
"YOU'VE WHAT??!!!"
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(To be continued in "Briarwood" Book One-chapter eleven)