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Email feedback can be sent to trager2275@gmail.com. © 2015 by Eric Trager.
CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE
It was two weeks in front of Sean and Brad's wedding. They were at the car museum to select the vehicles to be used in the wedding. They figured they'd need one vehicle for Tim and Brett as best men, one for themselves, one for Joe Wyman and Mrs. Cheadle, and however many would be needed to accommodate other family and close friends.
"Christ! This is gonna be a lot of work for the shop guys! I shoulda thought of that..." Sean said.
"How do you mean?" Brad asked.
"Well, these are old cars. They take a lot of prep before use, and then a lot of maintenance again afterwards before they go back on display. They're not daily drivers. One car alone will take at least a day or two to get ready, and then the same amount of time once we're done. Anyway, whadya like so far?"
"Well," Brad said, "I was thinking Tim and Brett can have the Cadillac V16* and we can use the '38 Buick.** Your dad and Mrs. Cheadle, I think the '49 Cadillac four-door.*** Now, don't laugh at me, but I had an idea for the rest of the family and friends deal..."
"Uh-oh!" Sean laughed. "OK, whatcha thinkin'?"
"I'm just... I mean if it takes all that time to get a vehicle ready and then afterwards to put it back on the museum floor, and we already know that other family and friends is a lot of people, instead of driving everyone crazy by using a lot of these cars, why not just use that 1949 bus? I mean, it'll hold way more people than we need it to and it's only one vehicle. Why not? Have the bus pick up everyone at the parking plaza behind the music hall and then drive over to the church. It's not a long drive... And I mean, ya can't use every vehicle in here anyway. It'd never happen. Besides, it's too much of a risk... Plus, everyone's car will be right there for them when it's time to leave the reception."
"You know, Brad, that's an excellent idea. I mean, I'd have never thought of it."
"Prolly not..." Brad deadpanned.
"Fuck you!" Sean said.
"You'll be doing that later anyway..."
"Maybe not. Maybe you can stick that pork chop of yours up my ass tonight..."
"Maybe..."
Even though it had been only three weeks, Sean was feeling better. A week after they returned to Janesville from the Dickson cabin Brad and Sean had a long talk.
It wasn't the sort of bare-his-soul talk they'd had at the cabin, but the bottom line of it was that Sean had agreed to seek some counseling. Brad suggested he go to see Kathleen. After all, she was family and she was a Psychiatrist with years of experience.
Sean agreed, and he dutifully made an appointment and kept it.
At their first appointment, Kathleen was careful to remind Sean that they were family and that could make things delicate, and if Sean ever felt uncomfortable about that arrangement she would happily recommend any one of a number of competent colleagues.
Sean decided that they would just see how it went.
Kathleen told Sean up front even before they began, "Sean, just so we're on the up-and-up here observing you as closely as a sister-in-law can it's been my opinion for some time that you're clinically depressed. I'm sorry to put it out there just like that, but..."
"It's OK," Sean interrupted. "Out of anyone, I'd expect a no-BS opinion from you. I remember that time back at your house when we were in high school and your sister told you that you didn't invite people like J.R. to your parties. You stood your ground and told her off. I think we can go forward here. I'm comfortable for now, anyway..."
"Good. Me, too," Kathleen said. "Now, before we start, I already know the background so I don't think I need any of that. I'm gonna ask you flat out if your mood is always down. If so, or if it almost always is, there are several medications we could try and see which one is the best for you..."
"I don't think I wanna do that, take meds..."
"Well, as long as we can be honest with each other, Sean, you spent a lotta years medicating yourself with alcohol. I'd like you to get a full physical."
"I did, didn't I... Yeah, I guess I did. But I wrote a lot, too..."
"I didn't know that. You wrote about what?"
"My life... You know, shit like that..."
"Your life?"
"Yeah, I got boxes full of composition books..."
"In any kind of order?"
"Yeah. They're all labeled on the front with a start and end date and packed into boxes that way. Why? You wanna read them?"
"Not unless you want me to. Those books are for you. They were probably therapeutic for you in some way... What matters between you and me is what we deal with in these sessions. If some part of what you wrote about comes into what we deal with, that's fine. If it's different stuff then that's fine, too. If none of it ever comes into play it doesn't matter. I know you. You did that for yourself. It gave you something to do while you were sucking down brandy. Sorry for putting it that way, but we gotta be honest if we're gonna do any good. How long have you been writing in your journal books?"
"I dunno, prolly four, five years maybe longer... Anyway, you promise me none if this shit is ever heard by anyone else?"
"Sean, you got nuthin' on me and I got nuthin' on you. That's how this works, and that's about what it comes down to here. Nobody hears any shit you tell me except me."
"Let's move on then," Sean said. "You think I should bring Brad in, too?"
"I don't see any reason for that. At least not right now. Not unless some reason to bring him in comes up. Anyway, tell me why you checked out..."
"It was just too much. I depended on him for so much. I'd been on my own since I was thirteen when my mom died. I mean, my dad was good and all, but he had his own sorrow. And he had to work. He always had demanding jobs and I couldn't be a burden to him. As I got older, I got involved with sports and stuff. Andy was always my relief valve. He was there for me when my mom died, and I was there for him when we were really little and his dad died. It was a bond that we had. It was like we were more than brothers. Everything came to a head when my dad got the job here at GM... There's a lot of other stuff that happened over the years, but I don't wanna start telling stories. There's too many..."
"OK, well, that's a start..."
"I really had no one else but him... For all those years since I was a kid... I only had him..."
"Sean, that's a narrative. It doesn't answer the question of why you checked out. If you don't know it's OK to say so, but then we'll need to work to find out."
"I guess I'll need to think about that. Is that OK?"
"It's fine, Sean. We don't need to solve everything today. Today is just a starting point. But my experience tells me that if we can get to the bottom of that then going forward it will just be that much easier for you. So, I want you to think about that. Maybe use one of those journal books to jot down any thoughts you have. You know, as they come to you..."
"I guess that's a good idea... I'll try to have something for you... I have more I need to write myself, but that's for me..."
"If you come next time with something, that's great. And if you don't, then don't feel bad. We'll work this all out together. At any rate, this is all about you. Certainly not about me, now is it?" Kathleen laughed.
Sean laughed, too. A little.
"I think if I can't think of anything I'll ask Brad to help me. He sees things pretty clearly, you know..." Sean said.
"I know, Sean. Can I give you a piece of advice? Not as your shrink, but as your sister-in law..."
"Always, Kath."
"Trust Brad. He wants the best for you. And he will give you his best. He stuck his neck out, Sean. Trust him. He loves you."
"I do. I trust him. It feels kinda weird having a person who's not And being, well, you know he's gonna be my husband. I dunno if I'm up to that... I guess maybe it's me that I don't trust..."
"Didn't you hear me before? Trust Brad. Trust him, Sean. And for God's sake, trust yourself, too. That's just a cop out. It's five minutes to midnight, Sean. And you're not a quitter."
"If you say so, Kath, I guess I'll just have to... Trust him..." Sean half smiled. "I do. I trust him. And me..."
"Good. Same time next week, then?"
"Same time next week."
"Johnny kinda misses you, ya know, Sean."
"I'm sorry for that. We'll invite you guys over sometime in the next week or two. I promise. Maybe I'll go by his office tomorrow and see..."
"I think Johnny would like that, Sean..."
"Maybe I'll pack a lunch and take it in."
"Go about 11:30 then. He always goes to lunch at 11:45. I can set my watch by that."
"OK... Thanks, Kath... Next week?"
"Next week."
Sean left feeling better. Maybe. A little bit. He had a goal for the next day or two to go visit J.R. and invite him and Kathleen for dinner. He knew he could rely on Brad to make the dining room a nice setting for the four of them. He knew he could prepare the meal. What was to worry about?
What Sean didn't know was that some years back it had been Brad who went to Kathleen to seek her advice. It was about six months after Andy's death. Brad was having problems understanding just how he could ever keep the promise he made to Andy. And he was also having problems about some of his feelings for Sean.
He only visited Kathleen twice. He explained in the first visit what his promise to Andy was, and that he had no idea how to fulfill it.
"I can't just move into their house and start spying on Sean and acting like a mom to those boys... I mean, yeah, I promised, but in the real world what do I do?"
"What would you feel comfortable doing?" Kathleen asked.
"That's just it. I don't know. I mean, how am I supposed to watch out for those boys from a distance? I mean, they're what, between about like twelve and fourteen or whatever? They're so young... And who knows when, if ever, Sean is gonna snap out of this. It's like he goes around in a state of shock. I can tell he's lost weight. I think he's been drinking a lot, maybe. Looks that way to me, anyhow... And that's not like him... I mean, I think I promised to do something that looks almost impossible to deliver..."
"If I remember right, Brad, you were young when your parents died. What did you do? Who watched out for you?"
"I didn't have nobody... I just hadda deal with it myself. It was hard. There wun't nobody else. But see, I was already over eighteen so I wun't gonna get nuthin' anyway. I miss my mom and dad. I guess I always will. My mom and dad were nice people. They were always good to me, but they left me to myself probably from the time I was the age of Sean's twins, thirteen, fourteen, maybe before that, anyway... Didn't have any brothers or sisters. Sides, we were just poor white trash... Dad never had a really decent job for long, or not that he kept for any length of time that I can remember. Sure, he had that job for Ginny's husband but soon as there was some advancement with extra responsibility he left. Said he didn't want no responsibility. N' mom didn't work too much at all. We never had any money. Shit, we were like Hillbillies. I didn't know that then, but I know it now lookin' back n' shit... People like us were just expected to deal with whatever shitty fuckin' shit we got outta life cause we don't know any better... After mom and dad died I got a shitty minimum-wage job, I turned tricks, let my ass get fucked for money, n' somehow I managed to live... Never did drugs, or dealt drugs, though... I know Sean smokes pot, but that don't really count... Tricks? Shit, you'd be surprised how many rich old farts there are in this town who pay good money and buy you a nice dinner just to screw some halfway-decent looking young guy in the ass, you know... I had prolly just about all of em. That wun't hard... `Long as their wives couldn't prove it for sure they didn't give a fuck... It sucked big time to have my parents gone, but I didn't starve... I got through it... At the time, it hurt, but I just took it... Had no choice... Just took it..."
"I have an idea," Kathleen said, noting Brad's emotion and the partial regression into the speech patterns before he'd had speech therapy.
"What..."
"Sometime in the next little while I'll invite Sean's boys over for dinner. And I'll invite you, too. But not for dinner. After we eat, I'd like you and me to take just the twins aside. Secretly and away from everyone else. I'll just let Johnny know so he can keep an eye on the rest of them. Anyway, it'll be just you, me, Joey and Lennie. You can explain to them about the promise you made and ask them what they think you should do. I can't tell you anything specific but take it from me, the twins are two, shall we say, `remarkable' young men. As long as they feel they can trust you to kind of like be some kind of a new dad to them I'm pretty sure we can probably get somewhere..."
"I know... I even played with them on the floor when they were little. They all think I'm their Uncle..."
"Well let's talk with the twins and then just see how it goes."
"Um, how are you gonna invite just the boys and not Sean? Won't Sean think that's weird or something?"
"You leave that to me..."
As it turned out, it was easy for Kathleen to get Sean's boys to agree to come for dinner. She simply emailed Sean that their cousins would like to see them and she'd host. That was all it took. Sean never even asked to come.
When the evening arrived, Kathleen had instructed the older kids to prepare dinner. The fare was simple, but given the number of hungry growing mouths to feed it was plentiful. There were tacos, not the maybe-typical Taco Bell-style ones, but authentic Mexican street tacos of the type J.R. taught his kids to make with either barbacoa beef or pork carnitas as meats, freshly sliced onions, scallions, chopped cilantro, lime slices, and queso fresco. There was also tortilla soup, refritos, rice with peas, fresh pico de gallo, and homemade lime ice for desert. They covered the beverages by offering a selection of locally-made Gray's sodas. Oddly to Kathleen and J.R. the kids seemed to prefer the tamarind flavor over the other sweeter ones.
The meal, served in J.R. and Kathleen's massive dining room, was a lively time, the entire house filled with the joy and laughter of eleven kids teasing each other as only cousins can do all the while eating their fill, the worst teasing offenders being, as usual, Scott, Sean's youngest and John, J.R. and Kathleen's oldest son. Scott was the older one but only by a few months and they were in the same grade in school. Christian always tried to join in the older two boys' fun, but that didn't always end up to his advantage.
Once the string of "loser," "douche bag," "retard," "dumbass," "numb nuts" and other choice teenage boy insults had gone on long enough, Joey and Lennie who, knowing from experience, had seated themselves each next to their rambunctious younger brother and cousin, reached out with the palm of their hands and slapped both of them on the backsides of their heads. "Shut it, you two!" Joey said. "Eat your food!" Lennie echoed.
"Thanks, guys..." J.R., a usually indulgent father, with an eyeroll and a half-smile chuckled. "Listen, Joey and Lennie, after you're done eating your Aunt Kath has a piece of furniture she wants you to help her move. It's in the parlor.****
After dinner, Joey and Lennie dutifully followed their Aunt to the parlor. Walking in, they were a bit surprised to see Brad seated in one of the chintz-upholstered wing-back chairs. "Pull the pocket doors shut, you two!" Kathleen said in a no-nonsense tone.
"So, we're not moving furniture we take it," the twins said together.
"Can't get anything past you guys," Kathleen laughed.
"So why are we here, then?"
"Brad, you wanna answer that for them?" Kathleen said, motioning Brad to talk.
"Fine," Brad said. "Look, guys, I don't know how else to say it, so I'm just gonna say it. Before your dad died he made me promise to look after you and your dad. I told him I would. I intend to keep that promise. I have to. I loved your dad. He was a good friend. Anyway, guys, how are things are things at home? And, please, one at a time..."
"Well," Joey started, "I guess things aren't horrible for the most part. Dad just, well I wouldn't say he mopes, but he goes around like a ghost. He moves so slow, like his brain is somewhere else. And when he moves it's not like he walks, it's like he just glides... But at one speed. That's weird. I don't think he's said three words to any of us since dad died..."
"I think he's been drinking more, too," Lennie added. "The only thing I ever see him eat these days is soda crackers. They always have to be Nabisco Premium crackers. He hasn't cooked a meal since I don't know when... Thank God Scott knows how to cook some... He doesn't come home `til really late, and stuff. He's having a really hard time... It's not... He's not the same person..."
"We don't know what to do..." Joey said.
"Where is he at night?" Brad asked.
"We're pretty sure he's down at the car museum..." Lennie answered.
"Can you guys get in there?"
"Sure, our thumbprints are on the security system..." Lennie said.
"Can you get my print on there?" Brad said.
"Yeah, I think so..." Joey said. "But here's our key just in case. Take it and have a copy made. You'll have to go to City Lock to have it done. We'll text you tomorrow night, you can come over while dad's gone and we'll hack in to the system at the museum and add your thumbprint."
"OK, I'll be over tomorrow. And I know City Lock. They did the locks on my condo. Prolly the same lock system. I don't think they'll give me any shit about it. If they do then I'll letcha know. And while you're at it, can we have my thumb print put on for the Alamo, too, so I can have some way to get in and deliver food and shit? Anyway, what do you guys think I should do as of now?"
"I guess the food is a good call... I mean, can you order it if we need it and have it delivered? Right now, not much else that we can think of. I mean, we're OK for the most part. We miss dad like fuck, but he took us all aside and said there was nothing anyone could do. He made us promise no moping and no tears once he was gone... We're doing what he said..." Lennie said.
"Yeah, yeah he did say that... To everybody..." Joey said wistfully, wiping an eye. "Maybe you could talk dad into getting a maid, or something, to clean the house and do laundry. That would be a big help."
"Consider it done," Brad said. "I just don't know what it is that I can do to help your dad, though. And like I said, I promised..."
"How about this..." Joey said, "if it seems like he's getting out of hand, or he needs help, we can let you know."
"I got a question," Lennie said.
"Shoot," Brad answered.
"Well, I mean, don't take this the wrong way, but have you ever considered, I mean, well, like, thought about, maybe, well, like... Like you and dad?" Joey uncharacteristically stammered.
"Joseph," Brad said, "Don't be embarrassed. It's a fair question. But you're looking at it through young and inexperienced eyes. I'll say this much: I love your dad. If it wasn't for him I can't say what my station in life would have been. Probably just another poor, badly educated, unskilled nobody who other people think is mentally slow, with some job making me just enough money so I wouldn't die and that would be it. Thanks to your dad, I was saved from that life. He did a lot for me. Do I foresee a relationship between me and him? Right now, no. For a number of reasons. First of all, he's not himself. We all know that. Second, I wouldn't force myself on him, certainly not now. It will take him a long time for him to heal. And that is even IF I thought we might be compatible. Your dad needs a certain kind of a guy and I'm not sure I'm it. So, the short answer is at this time, no."
"Uncle Brad?" Lennie said.
Brad looked at Lennie with arched eyebrows.
"Uncle Brad, if that changes, then you do what you think is right. Joey and I will be behind you no matter what you decide. Just give us some warning. We'll take care of Teej and Scott..."
"How are they getting along?" Brad asked.
"I guess we can say that they're doing OK. We've been, well..."
"You've been helping them?" Brad asked.
"Yes," the twins said together.
"Well, keep doing that. You're fine young men, you are."
"Thanks, Uncle Brad... So, Aunt Kath, are we done moving the furniture now?"
"I'd say so," Kathleen laughed. "Thanks, guys... Now, go back and torture my kids a little bit more, will ya? I just need a couple words with Uncle Brad. And you can leave the pocket doors open."
"OK..." The twins said as they exited the room.
"Well, Brad, whadya think?"
"I think it's good that the twins know what I promised to Andy. And I think I will do what we talked about."
"And Sean?"
"I don't think I can do much for him other than to keep an eye on him. What do you think?"
"Yeah, I'd say that's about it. For now anyway. You know, you really would be a good foil for him. Someday. Maybe."
"I dunno..."
"Well, I said someday. And maybe."
"Someday. Maybe. Yeah..." Brad said in a wistful way that Kathleen picked up on. "Anyway, Kath, wanna let me out? If the others know I'm here then for Joey and Lennie there's just gonna be a lot of questions from Teej and Scott that they shouldn't hafta answer right now. They'll just get suspicious and shit..."
"That sounds wise," Kathleen said. "We'll talk again if you need to, Brad."
The day arrived for Sean and Brad's wedding. They were both stunning in their morning dress. Brad teased the ever-punctual Sean by suggesting that they arrive at the church fashionably late.
"Fuck you!" Sean laughed.
"You can fuck me later," Brad deadpanned. "Anyway, Sean, I wanna ask ya... Are you sure? Sure about me? About us? This is what you want?"
"Yes, Brad," Sean said giving Brad a kiss on the cheek. "I'm still a work in progress, but I think I'm starting to feel better. And I know you'll stand by me. That I know... I'm sure."
"And I will. Stand by you. You know, Brett told me not to doubt myself. He said..."
"I know what he said, hun, because I think he told me the same thing. Or I'd bet pretty much the same thing."
"What'd he say?"
"He told me that it was well past the time I should be moving on and living my life again, and that if I was gonna be with anyone, out of all the people in the world he's glad it was gonna be you."
"Well, he didn't tell me the first part, but he did tell me the second..."
"So, husband-to-be, I'm ready. Let's do this..."
"I'm ready!" Brad said, pulling Sean into a hug.
Walking out to the waiting 1938 Buick in the driveway of the Alamo they made a handsome couple. Sean with his long blonde hair framing a face still youthful enough that it belied the harrowing past few years, and his build still athletic. And Brad, tall and slim with his morning dress cut a tad more body-fitting than Sean's revealing his fine form, and with his golden-brown hair shining.
Brad got in the car first and told Sean to look away for a minute. When Sean looked back he was floored. He'd never seen them before, but Brad had put in his green contact lenses. They were a darker emerald green with extremely subtle flecks of gold that served to highlight Brad's hair. Sean was speechless.
Brad looked at Sean quizzically first turning his thumb up, then down, then up, then down awaiting a comment from Sean. Brad liked the contacts, but if Sean didn't he'd take them out. After all, this was to be their wedding.
"God, Brad! They're gorgeous! Do they feel OK? I mean, they don't hurt your eyes, or anything, right?"
"Nope. So you like `em?"
"You're beautiful," Sean said as a tear fell down his cheek.
Brad reached out with his handkerchief and wiped away the tear.
"No tears, Sean. It's showtime."
"It's showtime..." Sean nodded.
Once at the church, Sean instructed the driver to circle around the block before pulling up.
"Looks like the bus is here. I see both Cadillacs, so Dix and Brett are here. And dad. And Mrs. Cheadle. You ready, hun?"
"I've been ready... Let's get married, Sean."
"Let's get married, Bradley."
Ascending the steps of the church, Brad and Sean heard on cue the opening strains of Pachelbel Canon in D played on the pipe organ, played by his eldest niece Victoria.
https://youtu.be/ukA2xvsA1qg
Presently Tim and Brett appeared from the wings. The choreography was for Brett to walk Brad down the aisle first and Tim to follow with Sean. The service was purposefully ordered to be simple. It would not be by any means a reproduction of the ornate Latin High Mass Tim and Brett had even though the celebrant was the same man, only many years older now, and an Archbishop rather than a parish Priest.
Brad and Sean requested that Victoria play the Canon in a masculine tone and tempo, yet suitable to the solemnity and importance of a wedding. Tim and Brett's choice of The Old Hundredth was appropriate to the processional of their magnificent wedding ceremony, but Brad and Sean wanted something lighter to match their chosen simple one, the only hint of pomp being that the Archbishop of Milwaukee was the celebrant.
The recently completed restoration of the old church was shocking to those who hadn't been there since Tim and Brett's wedding. The exterior was as it always had appeared but the interior was at once its High Victorian Gothic and Vatican original. It was breathtaking. Being Christmas Eve, the Florist placed immaculately trimmed Poinsettias, Spruce boughs, and Mistletoe about the church. It was festive as well as fragrant. The old church showed off its beauty, and smelled like Christmas.
Tim and Brett appeared magnificently as best men, Tim having lost none of his quarterback swagger from high school and Brett with his seemingly permanent movie star looks, each with the ease of manner and movement that comes with success. They approached their charges with genuine smiles, confidence and certain bearing.
Right according to script, Brad appeared first with Brett as his best man. Locked arm-in arm they started down the aisle, their pace neither hurried, nor artificially short. Being both about the same height, and both with stylishly slim builds, although Brad noticeable slimmer, they walked a manly walk down the aisle. Brad's golden-brown hair was pulled into a pony tail, while Brett sported his enteral golden curls and could have been easily mistaken for a college student.
Following shortly after were Sean and Tim. Both tall as well, but not as tall, and both more filled-out muscularly than their partners. Tim's auburn hair in a businessman's cut while Sean's blonde locks were shoulder-length and gently waved.
Although in their mid-forties, these were four handsome men. And they were four handsome men with all with a bearing of refinement and accomplishment about them. They would have stood out in any crowd. Arm-in-arm walking down, both couples were sure and confident with their step to the music and their necks and heads held erect. At the end of the aisle they separated with Brett and Tim standing off to the sides while Brad and Sean were one step higher toward the altar, facing each other and closer together.
The Archbishop on cue opened the Mass. "In the name of the Father, of the Son and of the Holy Ghost." The congregation answered, "Amen."
He moved straight to the sermon. It was short and simple. Cleared with both Sean and Brad in advance, Brad's remark had been, "It's perfect. There's no award for the most amount of words." Sean agreed as it got the message across that his spirit was back.
John 3:1-6
Now there was a Pharisee, a man named Nicodemus who was a member of the Jewish ruling council. He came to Jesus at night and said, "Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God. For no one could perform the signs you are doing if God were not with him." Jesus replied, "Very truly I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God unless they are born again." "How can someone be born when they are old?" Nicodemus asked. "Surely they cannot enter a second time into their mother's womb to be born!" Jesus answered, "Very truly I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God unless they are born of water and the Spirit. Flesh gives birth to flesh, but the Spirit gives birth to spirit.
On cue, Tommy appeared from the transept of the church looking angelic in his black page boy uniform and with his normally shaggy brown hair cut and styled short. He bore an embroidered red and gold cushion with the wedding rings. He looked up at Sean and Brad with his big, brown eyes. They both smiled and nodded to him.
The Archbishop then began the wedding vows. He began with Sean. "Do you Sean take Bradley to have and to hold from this day forward as your lawful husband, to love, honor and obey, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health until death do you part?"
Sean looked at Brad with a small smirk curling on one side, nodded almost imperceptibly and answered, "I do."
Like Tim and Brett, Sean and Brad elected to include `obey' in their vows.
Brad repeated his vows the same way, but unusually for Brad rather than his normal phlegmatic expression, he smiled broadly.
The Archbishop administered absolution and communion to both Sean and Brad, and then to the entire congregation.
He then closed the mass as the recessional played for which Sean and Brad had made the unorthodox choice of eschewing the church organ and hiring the Janesville Pipe and Drum Corps. Not inside the church, though. They marched outside, starting from almost a block away, then to the street in front of the church playing a rousingly loud rendition of Scotland the Brave. Tim looked at Sean and snickered, while Sean and Brad noticed George Dickson's head pop up in recognition of the skirl of the bagpipes and a tear run down one cheek.
They both chose the old Scottish tune because it was suitable to a cheerful yet dignified end to ceremony, and at the same time both Sean and Brad felt they might never have such a public way to express their thanks to old George Dickson who had done so much for them over the years.
https://youtu.be/Odc-sg54Bt8
At the reception, Brad offered his hand to Mrs. Cheadle for the first dance. The song was Time is on My Side by the Rolling Stones. "You'll be good to our Sean, Bradley," Mrs. Cheadle said.
"That I will," Brad smiled. "You have my promise."
At the bar, Joe Wyman walked up to Sean. "Son," Joe said.
"Yeah, dad..."
"That's a good man you got there. I've always liked Brad. But I need to tell you that I failed you as a father. I should have known all these years that something wasn't right. I should have known just because you're my son, but I didn't see it. I was too busy with my own life. And for that I failed you. And my grandsons, too. Just be careful to make it up to your boys."
"I've already started, dad. And there's no way you could have known..."
"I'm your dad. It's my job to know. And I failed."
Sean hugged his father tight. "I love you, dad. I always will."
By that time it was the second dance. Everyone was out on the dance floor, this time Brad with Marilyn Dowling and Sean with Peggy Dickson.
"Oh Sean, George and me, we're so happy for you two, don'tcha know!"
"Thanks, mom..." Sean smiled. "Sometimes I wonder what took me so long..."
"Better late than never, Sean. How about a beer and a shot of Jaeger? Just like old times..."
"You bet!" Sean laughed. "I'll have a double!"
"You `n' me both!"
The reception went on for three hours and everyone had a good time. At the appointed hour, Sean and Brad gave the guests their hugs, said their good-byes and were off for four weeks honeymoon. Sean let Brad choose the location and Brad chose, and paid for, a private island in the Bahamas. Brad even had Great Lakes Security post manned security on the island as well as set up secure communications systems. And he made sure there was food, beverage, weed, and pleasure equipment on hand and that there would be no people on the island other than Sean, Brad, and the two security people who were housed a good distance away and out of sight.
The truth was Brad wanted Sean all to himself.
And that's how it would be. The island they rented was almost thirty acres in size. It was relatively close to Nassau, at least insofar as they could get grocery and liquor deliveries within 48 hours. It had the added advantage of being used from time-to-time by high officials of the governments of various countries and therefore its internet security passed the rigorous standards tested by Great Lakes Security before Brad paid for the rental. After all, he might be away, but he wasn't really away. A certain amount of time every day was devoted to work.
But a lot of the time Sean and Brad spent on the beach, either in their Cabana, or on the beach, or in the ocean.
Sean didn't know how to feel. He felt like he was getting sucked into a black hole...
The black hole was that Sean was starting to love Brad. REALLY love Brad. It wasn't that Sean fought with the feeling, but the feeling of how could he love Brad and love the memory of Andy, too? Sean thought maybe it would have been easier to love them both had they both been alive. But he knew that wasn't the case. He knew he'd have to love Brad in the here and now, and love Andy in the has been. Sean could deal with that, but he still felt an emptiness.
Brad knew that. Brad also knew that Sean didn't realize how well Brad read him. Brad read Sean better than Andy had. Andy read Sean on a visceral level while Brad read Sean on a total level.
Sean kind of suspected that, too, mostly because of Brad's sure yet unassuming manner. When it came to unflappable, Sean thought maybe at long last he'd met his match. He was feeling better and felt he should just go with that.
And for the next month that is precisely what happened.
The island was large enough so that Sean and Brad never ran into their security detail, although they had word that there had been an alert of which they'd be apprised once they returned to the United States.
The new couple spent most of their days, once they spent a couple hours clearing their work in the morning, outdoors and naked.
Brad was thoughtful when he rented the island and made sure that there were lush cabanas on the beach, a tiki hut with a full bar and a grilling setup, open-air bedrooms, and all the extras. They even had a boat for their own use, although neither one of them was a confident, or experienced sailor.
Every other day a replenishment boat came from Nassau with anything they cared to order. Fresh seafood, supplies, liquor, Jamaican marijuana, anything was available and for them price was no object.
Brad even went so far as to have a sling installed in one of the guest bedrooms and had the room stocked with all the supplies he thought they'd need. Brad had it stocked with different lubes, masculinely-fragranced massage oils, dildos, vibrators, restraints, hand cuffs, luxurious Turkish towels, and in addition to the sling there was also a massage table complete with the finest Egyptian cotton sheets.
Brad had truly gone the extra mile to make sure that they were comfortable and could spend the time enjoying each other in every possible way.
They also had the time to get to know each other's kinks in the bedroom. Sean, for all his masculinity, much enjoyed bottoming, and as well, he enjoyed being edged for hours sometimes while physically restrained. Edging made Sean's cock rock-hard, and when he came he came hard. He could feel each load shooting all the way from his balls as if it were a howitzer.
For his part, although like Sean preferring to bottom, Brad was a willing top. And for Sean he was certainly a willing top. The truth was that Brad had never had much experience at all with guys his own age even when he was a young stud hustler. Sure, there were a couple guys in high school he messed around with but it was only casual, and once the other guys' curiosities had been satisfied they got rid of Brad like last night's cum rag. He was "the retard," the "poor guy," and "the hick that likes dick."
Brad was a sweet person, and those things hurt him. And it hurt him, too, when he'd had to resort to selling his ass to older men who were mostly gross and mostly treated him like shit. Oh, sure, they paid, they always paid. Maybe even fed him a dinner somewhere discreet. Always in cash. A lot of them threatened him to silence about who they were even though Brad was cunning enough to know who they all were, and where they lived. It was demeaning. It made Brad feel like shit. Like he was worthless.
Looking back, Brad couldn't blame himself for being wary of Sean, Andy, Brett and Tim. He figured at the time that they were just like everyone else. They'd use him and then treat him like dirt. It took Brad a long time to realize that they weren't going to do that. And it was mostly Andy and Brett who convinced him. Brad had a love for Andy that, while not the same as Sean's, not the same type of love, but it was a love that was there, nevertheless. Brad knew that probably if not for Andy and Brett his life would in all probability be very different. He would have been some guy with bad teeth and a scraggly three-or four-day growth of beard in dirty, shitty jeans working some dead-end job somewhere and lucky to keep the shitty home in a bad neighborhood that he inherited from his parents. Brad shuddered at the thought and wondered at how far he'd come. He was grateful and thankful, but he had now a husband he lusted after both physically and mentally.
Sean had time to reflect on his life, too. He knew his only choice was to embrace this new life. Brad made it easy to do. There was a lot to him. In addition to the person he was learning to love, Sean found Brad sexy. Probably even sexier on a raw physical level than Andy was to him. Sean felt maybe a little guilty about that, but in the end he had to admit it was true. Andy was handsome, no doubt, and once he had reached his full height of 6'0" he was physically impressive, but Brad was taller, he was better proportioned albeit slimmer, and he had that something about him. That animal magnetism. The magnetism of the person that has no BS about them and what one sees is what one gets.
It was enough to have Sean hard every day in his cabana on the beach looking over at Brad. The long, lithe body but even though slender having all the appropriate muscles showing every time he moved. The perfect body hair, and that golden-brown color. Unlike Brad, Sean didn't think Brad's natural eye color was bad. It might have been a little bit muddy, but not bad. With his green contacts, though, Brad's face lit up. And it was a beautiful face, Sean thought. Somewhat heart-shaped, a little bit but not much filled out over the years, an honest face. And when Brad smiled or laughed his eyes pinched in a bit of an impish look. Just like Sean's smirk was impish.
Sexually, even though they were finding their way, they fit. Sean got more out of it that way, maybe, as Brad had had by far the more partners over the years.
They were well suited and their time on the island would solidify that for both of them. Brad polluted Sean sexually... And Sean basked in it.
On their third day on the island, Sean and Brad were lying out on the beach naked in their cabanas. Sean was hard as he always was and spied Brad's cock lying in an upward direction along his groin. It wasn't hard, but it was about half plump. Sean's heart raced. Brad reached down with his fingertips and languidly grazed the length of his cock which plumped just a little bit more and it's expanding girth made it fall from Brad's stomach to his thigh. It was almost too much for Sean to take. Sean felt precum leaking from his dick. He scooped it up and licked his fingers off.
Sean tried to ignore Brad for a minute or two but could not. His visage was too hot. He was staring at Brad. Brad again grazed his cock with his fingertips. This time Brad leaked precum. He didn't scoop it up.
It was too much for Sean. He bolted from his cabana and was on Brad like lightning. Sean's mouth engulfed Brad's cock. He savored Brad's precum. Brad gasped. His cock jerked in Sean's mouth. Sean, although shorter than Brad, was the stronger of the two outweighing Brad by probably twenty to thirty pounds. He grabbed Brad by the hand pulling him out of his cabana and dragged him into the house at a running clip. Sean pulled Brad down the hallway, into the guest room and slammed him into the sling.
"I'm gonna fuck you!" Sean growled. "You make me crazy! You're so fucking hot, Brad..."
Brad only said, "Go for it."
Sean lubed up Brad's now-hard cock and gave it a sensual, slow jacking. Spying his target, Sean buried his face in Brad's crack, licking the length of it paying special attention to Brad's taint and hole. Brad again gasped.
"Eat me, Sean. Fuuuuuuck!" Brad started masturbating his hard penis. Not furiously. At his own deliberate pace. Sean let him. Sean wanted to bring Brad to the best orgasm of his life. For Brad's part he knew what he was doing, too. Sean was the best sex partner Brad ever had. But he was also his husband, and his husband who needed some fixing still. And Brad loved Sean.
Brad went with the moment. He loved Sean. And while Sean had fucked him, and more than once, there was something animal in Sean right now. Brad liked that. It was far better than the disgusting old men or the furtive teenagers he's had sex with in the past. Brad wanted Sean to manhandle him.
And Sean did. Sean was smart enough to know Brad liked it rough. Although normally Sean wasn't a rough top, this time he would be. He was that horny. And with abandon Brad would let Sean be as rough as he wanted to be.
Sean seized Brad's hips, exposing his hole. Brad's hole pulsated in anticipation. Brad's eyes beckoned. Sean pulled Brad's hips in and with one shove impaled Brad on his hard cock. Sean's cock never felt like it had at that moment. It was so hard it was rigid like a steel rod. Sean didn't ease into it; he simply began pile driving Brad's ass. His thrusts were fast and rough. Full stroke in and out. He groaned. He swore. He pinched Brad's nipples. Brad writhed and groaned. "Fuuuuuuuuck! Fuck me, Sean! Unnnnggggg... Pound my hole! Use me!"
Brad's moaning and writhing only made Sean hornier and his dick even harder. He felt that feeling in the glans of his cock, but the feeling wasn't growing. He just continued to fuck Brad even harder and Brad continued to spasm under Sean's treatment.
Five, ten minutes passed and Sean still rogered Brad as if he were a fleshlight. Sean didn't notice but Brad had already cum twice, the first load shooting over his head, the second creaming his chest. Brad scooped up his cum and fed it to Sean who kept on thrusting. Sean's face and chest were covered in sweat. His breathing was heavy. And still he kept going.
Presently, Sean stopped. He grabbed Brad out of the sling and moved him over so he was facing the massage table. He bent Brad over with the push of one arm, spread Brad's cheeks with his other hand and impaled him roughly again. He reached around with his arms cupping Brad's chest. Faster and faster he fucked his husband. Brad came a third time, his asshole spasming on Sean's steel-hard cock. Sean couldn't take it anymore. He fucked Brad even faster and harder.
"Fuck! Fuck! I'm gonna cum! Shit! Motherfucker!" Sean gasped as he increased his speed and force. Brad's ass was being pulverized.
"Cum for me, Sean! Cum in me! Let me feel your sperm inside me! Make me your bitch! Fuck, Sean, CUUUUUUMMMM!!!!!"
Sean felt his cock swell even further and begin to twitch. He bucked and could hold back no longer. Massive volleys of cum shot out of Sean's dick into Brad's intestines. Brad felt the hotness of Sean's cum bathing his innards. He came again, his loads rocketing onto Sean's face.
Sean collapsed onto the floor. His legs spasmed as if he'd been tased, his breathing ragged. His cock still rigid and angry, he started jacking it off cursing and swearing. "Fuck! Fuck! Fist my cunt, Brad! Fucking DO IT! Fucking NOW!!"
Brad had never seen Sean like this. To Brad it was as if Sean was undergoing a total catharsis. If that's really what it was. Sean didn't appear in distress to Brad, rather he appeared in an altered state. Sean had demanded to be fisted and that's what Brad would do.
He lubed up Sean's ass with an entire handful of goop. He coated his entire hand up to beyond his wrist. He inserted one finger and milked Sean's prostate. Even after his volcanic load Sean's prostate emitted steady milk onto his pubes. Some of it Brad ate and some of it he fed to Sean who lapped it up still with eyes closed and legs of rubber.
Second finger. Then third. Brad cupped his thumb and fingers into that same shape an old Italian person might use when stressing a point. He slipped it into Sean's hole little by little. Brad was surprised at how little resistance he felt even up to the end of the fingers. He felt Sean's sphincter almost disintegrating and Sean's ass move down as if it were swallowing his hand. Sean's legs gradually slowed down in their twitching, and his breathing quietened a little. His hole welcomed Brad's arm. He arched up and became more laid back as his hole basically hung open. Sean masturbated his dick furiously as Brad feathered his twirling cupped fist and forearm into Sean's ass.
Sean whimpered. And then he came like a horse again. The cum didn't even hit his face, or chest. It went over his head. At once, Sean opened his eyes.
"FUUUUUUUUUUCK..." Sean gasped.
"You needed all of that," Brad said. "Every bit of it."
"You fisted me!!"
"You ordered me to!"
Sean then looked momentarily downcast. As if he were remembering something. Then he looked up.
"Yeah. I needed that." Sean said in a hoarse whisper. "I might need that again sometime..."
"If you do," Brad replied, "that's fine by me. I enjoyed it."
"You did?"
"Fuck yeah. I love being manhandled. And I'll manhandle you, too, Captain America."
"Any time," Sean smiled.
"Should we clean up?"
"Yeah, we only covered each other with about a gallon of cum..."
"Let's go down the beach and jump in the water. Then we'll come back in and get dinner... I'll cook the lobster and you can do the rest, OK?"
Sean nodded.
After dinner, the beach and a long hot shower were accompanied by Brad's mixing a pitcher of margaritas. He was good at it. Fresh squeezed orange and lime juice, just the right touch of Grand Marnier, top-shelf Mexican Tequila, a couple shots of Angostura Bitters, a dash of baker's sugar, and shaved, not crushed ice, which he skillfully shook and then poured into large martini glasses with salted rims each having two large crystal-clear ice cubes, not crushed ice, so as not to dilute the drinks and to keep the flavor.
"God these are good," Sean said.
"Glad you like!" Brad smiled, ruffling Sean's hair.
"Tomorrow I wanna start on finalizing the design for Glen Muick Lodge. I'm not sure I'm happy with all of it..."
"I'm glad you said it because there were a couple of things I wasn't a hundred percent on..."
"Like what..."
"Well, the outside. I didn't really care for the turret. I mean, it's a lodge, not a castle. And it's not that big of a building. To make that work on a stone building you gotta have a honking building. And I think on the inside we can simplify things. Use simpler mouldings, simple wood paneling, things like that. And I know how much you like to cook and what kind of a kitchen you like, so the kitchen should be like a scaled down version of a restaurant kitchen, not something that looks like it came out of a magazine..."
"I agree with all of that, but I don't want to hurt Tommy's feelings..."
"You won't. Didn't you say he told you that he did it from his imagination? Just let him know that MOST of what he drew is what will be built. Let him choose some of the decorating. Let him know all that and tell him it's time to imagine all of that put into actual practice. Hell, that's what I would do with him. He's a sweet kid, and I can deal with him if you want. It'll be fine..."
"Well, OK, if you wanna do that I'm good. Let's just see what we come up with over the next few days before you talk to him. We can make some drawings of our own even though they'll suck compared to his," Sean laughed. "But the first thing is we need to get the bridge over the river constructed. Without that they won't be able to move materials in."
"Time for bed, sweetheart?"
"Yeah, I'm beat. I could use some sleep..."
They kissed and went to bed.
Sean woke up with a start and in a cold sweat.
It was 2:32 a.m. by the bedside clock. Sean could make out the room with the moonlight coming in the window. Brad was on his side, sheets and covers pulled up around him but his shoulder was exposed and Sean's eyes went to it. How beautiful Brad was, Sean thought. He patted Brad lightly on the shoulder, not enough to wake him up. Sean got out of bed, put on his flip-flops and walked out to the beach.
Sean felt the warm sea breeze over his naked body. He paused and lit a cigarette. Sean heard the tide going out. He walked over to his cabana and stubbed his cigarette out.
Sean felt a stirring in his loins. He stood on the beach and masturbated.
END CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE
*1936 Cadillac V16 Fleetwood
**1938 Buick Series 90 Limited
***1949 Cadillac Series 62 4-door Sedanette
****Typical of large Victorian homes, John and Kathleen's home had two living rooms, one on either side of the entrance foyer. One was always referred to as the living room, the other one was called the parlor.