Please don't forget to donate to Nifty if you enjoy reading the stories!
Email feedback can be sent to trager2275@gmail.com. © 2015 by Eric Trager.
*** Since Yahoo has taken down their groups pretty much, I was thinking of creating a group for the story on Facebook. Would there be any interest in that? Let me know.... Thanks!
CHAPTER SEVENTY
After Sean and Brad's Bahamas honeymoon, the rest of the year flew by.
Sean took Brad up on his suggestion to redecorate the Alamo, in particular the dining room and living room. Brad muted some of the period correct colors that Andy had chosen, exchanging them for a different, less exuberant period correct palette of more restful sages, warm beiges and creams. The draperies were also redone, as period correct as Andy's were, but in lighter earth tones.
The existing furniture was of such good quality that Brad didn't replace it, but had some of the fabric-upholstered pieces recovered in cheerful yet sturdy chintzes. He replaced some of the rugs, too, with handmade rugs from Spain.
The upstairs bedrooms were updated as well with new paint schemes, drapes and rugs. Brad also replaced the bed in the master bedroom with a new headboard, footboard, mattress and spring. The bathrooms were original and in spectacular condition, so Brad just updated the towels and rugs.
All in all, it was a successful update, and Sean appreciated it as he still had to admit that he had no eye at all for interior design.
Brad tended to some needed work on the exterior of the Alamo as well. The stucco needed repairs here and there as well as some of the clay roof tiles. Rain gutters, downspouts and chimney flashings were replaced in hand-formed copper, the driveway torn out and repaved in brick with a herringbone pattern, the iron fence repainted, and some smaller things. Brad knew that Sean hadn't had the mental energy over the past few years to pay attention to those things and so Brad was happy to do it. And again, Sean was grateful.
Brad also got Sean to agree to let him freshen up the apartment over the garage which had lain vacant for years and to rent it out. In the end, T.J. let them know that he might be transferring one of his engineers from Boston to Janesville soon and he'd like him to stay in the extra apartment at the Alamo while he was in town for his interviews and meetings.
The Engineer turned out to be one-half of a gay couple in their mid-thirties. Their names were Benton Saunders and Jonathan Jones. T.J. hired Benton on two years previously after T.J. made him an offer he couldn't refuse in order to lure him away from another competing company in the Boston area. He was a PhD in electrical engineering from MIT, already with a few years working in the field under his belt and T.J. knew of him well enough by local reputation. The guy was a sure bet. He'd already been involved on two teams that had earned significant U.S. patents.
Jonathan was a High School Math teacher at Boston College High School, a Catholic High School in the Dorchester section of Boston wherefrom graduation typically led to Boston College, a Jesuit University considered the Notre Dame of the East Coast.
There was just one stumbling block to T.J.'s plans for Benton's career, though...
And it was having to move to Janesville.
Benton was black and he was used to living in a major metropolitan area which Janesville by no means was. Not by any stretch. He also was not used to living in a town that was over 90% white, the black population of Janesville being a bit less than 3%.
T.J. hoped he could solve the Janesville problem by offering Benton a salary and other incentives that for someone in his corporate position were unheard of: a promotion within the company to the position of Chief Engineer, the joint rights to any patents granted while Benton was an employee, and free housing for a up to two years in case they wished to take some time to find a house on their own or have one built, and of course a salary and benefits that Benton could scarcely believe. The contract time was only to be for an initial period of three years anyway, so in terms of income and opportunity Benton agreed with one provision.
Benton and Jonathan decided to hinge the whole thing on a visit to Janesville. T.J. really wanted this guy in the position he envisioned for him but did not wish to appear overbearing in talking up the opportunity, or appear to be hounding Benton. So, he compensated for eschewing the hard sell by turning on the charm, offering a private flight direct from Boston Logan into Janesville, accommodations at a "private apartment," meaning the newly redone Alamo apartment, free use of a Cadillac Fleetwood Eldorado V-Sport courtesy of the local Cadillac dealer, free use of the Country Club dining room, bar, golf course, gym and other facilities, free tabs at all the best bars and clubs around town should they wish, and a list of people they could call for anything they might need right down to the esoteric "cobbler" for their shoes. It was a class act that T.J. put on.
Once they returned to Boston, Benton and T.J. would meet and it would either be a go, or not.
But it wasn't T.J.'s generosity that sealed the deal. In the end, it was Sean that sealed the deal.
Unexpectedly, Sean ran into Benton and Jonathan in the driveway when they arrived at the Alamo. Both of them did a double-take at Sean. And Sean did a double-take at them.
"He's hot!" Jonathan exclaimed under his breath.
"Careful maybe wannabe Math teacher in a new town, we don't know who he is... Could be anyone, could be a trap. We don't know anyone here, and we're here on business, remember?" Benton said.
"Dude's hot anyway..."
"Yeah, he is. Anyway, let's get going. I'd like to get our shit inside and then get in a round of golf at that Country Club course before it gets too late. See what kind of a course they got here..."
"Hey, guys!" Sean called out with a smirk. "I guess you're the guys who are staying in the apartment for a few days? Anyway, I'm Sean. I own the place. Welcome to the Alamo..."
Benton stuck out his hand. "I'm Benton Saunders and this is Jonathan Jones. I work for T.J. Wyman."
"Yeah, he said a couple guys would be coming. Anyway, you guys got keys, right?"
"Yes, he gave us keys before we left Boston. We're gonna get our luggage put away and then play a round of golf."
"Alright, well, you guys best get settled in, then. I had the maid go through the place from top to bottom, so you should be all set. I stocked up the fridge, too. Let me know if you don't think everything is to your liking, or if I forgot anything. Anyway, if you're around later stop down for a drink. And if ya have any questions about anything, I can give ya the lay of the land. Nice meeting you guys!"
"You, too, Sean," Benton said.
Once inside the apartment, Jonathan looked at Benton and said, "That Sean? He's one of us. Jesus Christ, wouldja look at this apartment! It's fucking gorgeous! Look at these appliances... Wolf stove, Sub Zero fridge and wine cooler, Miele dishwasher... Fuck!"
"Ya really think he's gay?"
"Sean?"
"Yeah, Sean..."
"Shit, I'd bet a hundred bucks on it... I mean, just look! This apartment is totally gay... Straight guys don't buy appliances like these for an apartment. They'd buy Kenmore. And look at the furnishings. It's super cool, though... But the whole property looks like it's straight out of Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil... I mean, it does! Gay."
"I wonder how T.J. Wyman knows Sean... He seems a little older than we are..."
"Yeah, I'd say early to mid-forties... Still hot, though..."
"Ain't bad, that's for sure. Anyway, let's go play golf."
"Sounds good!" Jonathan said. The two had played golf together since their days as classmates back at Wellesley High School in the tony Boston suburb of the same name where they grew up, Jonathan's father being the local representative to the Massachusetts Assembly and Benton's father being a Chemistry Professor at Wellesley College.
Finishing their round of golf on the old Country Club course which they both enjoyed as being not a long course, but an old and picturesque one which was in some places tricky, they decided they would accept Sean's invitation and stop by for a drink. When they did, Jonathan chuckled to himself as his suspicions were pretty much confirmed when Brad answered the door. If Jonathan thought Sean was hot, Brad made his heart skip a beat. He tapped Benton on the shoulder and gave a knowing nod and wink.
Brad ushered them into the bar where Sean already was. Brad assumed his usual position as bartender asking them what they'd like. Benton opted for a gin martini dry and Jonathan had the same. They seemed curious once they'd got their drinks watching Brad mix Brandy Old Fashioneds for Sean and him.
Benton and Jonathan were spellbound by the Alamo's interior. It's unmistakable old money atmosphere, yet its comfortable hominess.
They were as well more than a bit surprised when they found out that Sean was T.J. 's father.
"Don't worry, guys, Teej didn't send ya here so I could keep an eye on ya, or anything. It's just that I just had that apartment refinished and it's empty until I get it rented out. It was probably easier for him to put you up here, in a place he knew, rather than take a chance on something he didn't know. Plus, this is a real home. Anyway, he asked me and I said the apartment was open so why not use it if it'd make it easier for everyone..."
"It is an awesome apartment. I think it's better than what we have now back in Boston..." Benton said, "But you seem too young to be his dad..."
"Well, it's a long story, but let's just put it this way, I had my kids young. There's four of them, two years apart in age. All boys. I was 37 when the last one finished High School. My two oldest, Joey and Lennie, they're twins and they live just down the street. I was seventeen when they were born. T.J.'s the middle one, and my youngest, Scott, lives in Washington, DC."
"What's that picture on the wall over there..." Jonathan asked, pointing to a large framed photograph that appeared recent, but was in sepia tones.
"That one?" Sean asked.
"Yeah..."
"Those are my two oldest sons, Joey and Lennie."
"But, the other guy in the photo, isn't that... I mean, it sure looks like..."
"Yes, that's the King of England, King William. The photo was taken at Balmoral Castle in Scotland last year. They went for a week on the King's invitation."
"Jesus Christ!" Jonathan exclaimed.
"Well, I'd like to ask you about something else if I might," Benton said.
"Shoot," Sean answered.
"It doesn't look like there's very many black people in this town at all. I guess I'm a little leery of moving here because of that... Should I be? You can be honest with me..."
"Well, as you can see, I'm not black so I might not exactly be the best person to ask about that for an accurate answer," Sean said. "All I can say is this isn't my hometown, either. I moved here when I'd just turned seventeen. Just before my junior year in High School. It was pretty easy for me to fit in. I was a jock. Played football and that first year I was here our team won the State Championship and I was the quarterback, so maybe that made it a bit easier for me... I dunno... I've had a good life here, anyway. This town's been good to me and my family. I spent a lot of years on the City Council and we didn't have any issues of race come before us that I can remember off the top of my head. I guess I could look it up in old Council Minutes that I have... I don't think the Police have had anything like that, either, but I wouldn't know that for sure and if you'd like the real scoop I could arrange for you to meet the Chief. He's black and he's been here about ten years, or so. He was hired when I was still on the Council, I think it was in my last year or two... We hired him on the spot after his first interview. He was the Chief in Milwaukee before he came here and he was looking for a move to a smaller town because he was tired of the big-city politics and just wanted to get back to policing and community service. He's a good man, and our police force is respected in the community. I'm sure he'd be happy to talk to you. He only lives about four blocks away..."
"I guess that's good to know," Benton said. "Then if we moved here we'd have to get a job for Jonathan, too, so..."
"Teacher you said, right?" Brad asked.
"Yup," Jonathan said. "High School Math."
"Might wanna introduce him to Peggy Dickson," Brad said to Sean. "Peggy's an old friend of ours," Brad said to Jonathan. "She was a Middle School Math teacher for about forty years here in town before she retired and she's on the School Board now. She's the mother-in-law of the Governor of Wisconsin. You want a teaching job? Peggy'll getcha one."
"Jesus you guys are well-connected!" Benton said.
"Yes... We are..." Sean smirked.
"What about those signs here and there on the course at the Country Club? Says the course is maintained by J.R. Wyman Golf Links..."
"J.R.'s my brother. His company maintains golf courses all over the country, and there's a few courses that they own. There's a course here in town that he designed and owns. It's a beautiful course. If you'd like to play it before ya leave town maybe we could make it a foursome."
Thoughts of a different kind of foursome went through Jonathan's head.
"Let's do it!" Benton said. "Day after tomorrow. I'm in meetings all day tomorrow."
"Maybe we can show Jonathan around town a little bit then?" Brad asked.
"I'd like to be shown around," Jonathan said. No one picked up on the double entendre.
"Take a few pics and videos then," Benton said.
In the end, Benton did take the job in Janesville, and Peggy Dickson did secure a teaching position for Jonathan. In the Math Department at Parker High School. Parker had lacked an AP Math Teacher for the past semester, and Jonathan's skill set more than fit the bill. He'd be teaching the cream of the crop. Benton and Jonathan took the apartment at the Alamo, too.
Sean was back in school so to speak as well.
A couple of weeks after Benton and Jonathan moved to the apartment over the Alamo Sean got a call one evening from Jim Nolan.
"Hey, Wymo," Jim Nolan said. "I got something I need to talk to you about. You mind if me and Danny come over?"
"Sure, Brad and I aren't doing anything..."
Sean hung up and asked Brad to prepare two pitchers of Brandy Old Fashionds, one sweet as he knew Danny and Jim preferred, and one sour as Sean and Brad did. Sean rolled a joint and laid it in the ashtray in the bar at the Alamo and then went to prepare some quick snacks.
One Jim and Danny arrived and everyone was in the bar, Sean asked Jim what was up.
"OK, Wymo, here's the deal... Coach Schmidt is retiring at the end of this year. I've been given the job of Head Football Coach. I won't be teaching Science anymore; I'm moving to the Physical Education Department so I can be a full-time coach. Look, I've wanted this job forever, but you know I've only been the Defensive Coordinator until now. If I'm gonna be up to the job of Head Coach, if I'm gonna be able to run a program the school can be proud of, I'm gonna need to know where my weaknesses are. And I do where my weaknesses are. I need an Offensive Coordinator. I need you. I gotta have ya, man..."
Brad studied Sean to see how he would respond.
"Tell me when you want me to start, Noles. I'll have Peggy Dickson take care of the appointment with the School Board."
"Good. I'll have something for ya next week about when we need to get together. We got enough time yet. I really do need ya next year, Wymo. We're gonna have a team that I think is as good as the team you were on that won State. I'm not fuckin' kidding... It's the strongest bunch of kids I've ever seen. I need a guy who's got "That Magic" to coach my offense... If I have that, we're gonna go all the way."
"It wasn't magic, it was a lotta chance... We had talent, Noles, and all the rest of it, but we also had Lady Luck."
"Bullshit, Wymo. I remember what you said Coach Slater always told you guys, that excellence chases perfection but she almost never catches it. You guys caught it that year. All of you. I mean, you, Dix, Cunns, Brett, Andy, J.R... Fuckin' everyone... That was something special, man. That season. It was magic. I want that for those kids. Thanks for doing this, Wymo. You won't regret it."
"I said I'd do it. I want to. We'll figure it out and I'll have your offense ready!"
Brad smiled to himself about Sean. He seemed to be regaining some of his old self.
"I watched them play last year," Sean continued. "I know they're good. I think they're more than good enough to run some of the old-school shit that Dix and I ran..."
"That shit you guys ran was old-school back then. It'd be like from another planet now... You wanna give that shit a try? You got a free hand, Wymo. Just bring me a kick-ass offense..."
"I said I'd do it, and trust me I will... I'm gonna need a good line coach, though... We can talk about that later." Sean said, slugging back his Old Fashioned. "Let's go out on the patio and smoke a bone." Sean said, brandishing the fat joint he'd rolled earlier.
Danny and Jim exited the Alamo the following morning.
That did not go unnoticed by Benton and Jonathan.
"OK, so we're pretty sure they're a couple, Sean and Brad, but do you think those other two guys were overnight fuck guests?" Benton asked.
"Well, if they weren't overnight fuck guests then what were they..." Jonathan slyly answered.
"Yeah, it kinda looks that way..." Benton said.
"Would you fuck either one of them?" Jonathan asked.
"My boss' dad, or his husband? Fuck no!" Benton said. "Well, not unless..."
"Unless what..."
"Unless... Well, `we'll see' is unless what..."
"So that's not a no."
"It's `never say never' is what it is..."
A week or so after Benton and Jonathan departed back to Boston, Sean and Brad with help from Tommy finalized the plans for Glen Muick Lodge. Construction on the bridge over the Wisconsin River was already permitted and underway. All of the steel sections had been prefabricated by Saeth Construction at their Janesville plant and delivered to the site. The bridge was due to be completed and the gravel roads through the Dickson side of the river to and from the bridge at the same time in about two months. The roads would get their final grading and paving once all the heavy trucks were done coming in. Even though it cost more the roads would be concrete complete with gravel shoulders.
The bridge itself had gone through several design stages. First was a suspension bridge and then a cable-stayed design. Sean liked those as they were light, airy and graceful. But when faced with not only the cost of construction but of maintenance on such structures, Sean reluctantly gave them up in favor of a conventional steel arch bridge. Sean rejected a cantilever bridge as it used too much steel and lacked the grace of the arch bridge. The arch bridge wasn't what he had really wanted, but it was acceptable. And cost was a consideration because a little- known State requirement, which was out of Brett's control as Governor even had he wanted to intervene, which mandated that even private bridges over a certain span length, which Sean's bridge was, had to be constructed to a minimum of a State Highway standard.
Sean did work out a way to defray some of the costs, though. Tim found an obscure old state law from the 1880's that was still on the books and governed what was known at the time as Rural Fire Lanes.' Sean was able to make the private roadway and bridge he was building available to government vehicles, meaning in practice first responders, in exchange for an annual payment from the County to be used toward keeping the lane open.' Sean and the County agreed on $4,000 per year plus County snow plowing as needed. In exchange, the County agreed that the road would be open to only emergency vehicles and that all such vehicles would be fitted out at Sean's cost with security transponders allowing them to clear the automatic security gates Sean was having installed at either end of the property. It was a fair deal. It helped the rural population of the County while allowing Sean to keep his cherished security, and absolving him of the responsibility he would otherwise have for arranging and paying for snow plowing, and it would give him a small sum to put away for eventual maintenance down the road.
While bridge and road construction was underway so was the prefabrication of sections of the new lodge. One finished, the sections would be added to the existing structure, the whole bolted together, then the pre-cut limestone exterior put up, and a steel roof designed to mimic slate shingles put up over the whole structure. Already finished were the well located in a pumphouse to the rear of the lodge as well as the septic system and electrical lines, and another small structure to serve as a sauna and a wet bar. Heating would be handled by a combination of geothermal and electric backup. There would be no gas service to the property, but there would be an LP tank used to power an electrical generator in the event of a loss of power. Sean specified that the tank would hold enough LP gas to run for fourteen days at maximum usage and feed into storage batteries designed to hold an additional seven days of power.
With all of that, Sean had made a decision about something else and to his mild, yet pleasant surprise he got Brad to join in with him. Sean and Brad were taking lessons to gain their pilots licenses. A portion of the road Sean was having built on the lodge side of the river was being built in a fashion long enough, wide enough, and straight and level enough so that it could be used as a runway to land and take off a twin-engine turbo-prop or small jet aircraft. The garage nearing completion in back near the pumphouse would be large enough to accommodate four vehicles and serve dual purpose as a hangar for two aircraft. The way Sean figured it, they could drive to the lodge anytime but the trip was long and an airplane would cut the trip to no more than an hour and a half, and probably less. In addition, they both envisioned having guests who might either arrive in their own planes, or desire a direct flight from somewhere like Milwaukee, Minneapolis, or Chicago.
It was anticipated that with all the prefabrication, once the road and bridge were finished construction on the lodge would take about six weeks beyond that. All that remained for Sean and Brad to do would be furnishings. Progress had been made on those. Most of the furniture was already purchased and delivered to a storage facility in Rhinelander. Brad ordered ready- made drapes and shears, but they were top-quality. Neither one of them saw the need to spend top dollar on custom window treatments. Brad did order expensive rugs in the rooms that mattered. He ordered authentic Wisconsin-made American Indian rugs made by the Ho- Chunk. Brad invited the Ho-Chunk to send a few people, "whoever you think is best" to make sure that the right things would be placed in the right places. For all his progress in life, one of Brad's fears that stayed with him was being seen as `a Rube.' If Brad was to acquire authentic Indian pieces for the lodge, he would go the extra mile to know that they had all been recommended and placed by people who knew what was right. And Brad would ask of every piece why it was important and why it had to be where it was. The Ho-Chunk sent three people to see Brad and Sean in Janesville. Joey, Lennie and Tommy were persuaded to spend the two days the Ho-Chunk were in town at the Alamo and let their own home be used to house the guests, complete with a full staff. Sean and Brad agreed that no one who would be their guest would not get a first-class stay, although as Sean put it "easy low-key."
At the end of June, Allison and Scott presented Sean with his first blood grandchild. He was a boy, born full term and healthy. Everyone knew that if the baby were a boy, the name would be some combination of Alan for Allison's father, or Sean. It was decided to settle it with a coin flip. Alan Kohler won the coin flip. A few minutes later he was seen talking to Allison and Scott. A minute afterwards, they all approached Sean and told him that if the baby were to be a boy, coin flip notwithstanding, he would be named Sean Alan. And so he was. Sean Alan Wyman. Grandson of Sean Wyman and Alan Kohler. A baby born with two silver spoons in his mouth.
By the end of September, Glen Muick Lodge was finished. The road, the bridge, and the lodge. The only thing that required final completion was the garage/hangar which, while in its finishing stages, was let until last due to the requirement of having diesel and aircraft fuel tanks installed underground. Most of the lodge was new, and raw, but at last it was finished. The furniture, rugs and finishing were moved in, bedding placed, systems tested, certificate of occupancy granted, and the lodge deemed good to go other than an air conditioning coolant pressure leak which was corrected by the contractor. The place was done.
Sean and Brad decided to take a drive up to the lodge to check everything out and sign off on the final construction. Just the two of them. Without saying what it was, only saying it was food which was good enough for Brad as to Brad food was mostly just food, Sean made sure that the supplies were in the car so that their first home-cooked meal at the lodge would be shit on a shingle. Also unknown to Brad, Sean had Tim sneak away and prepare one of the spare bedrooms with all the accoutrements he hoped he and Brad could make use of.
After almost ten months of marriage, Sean had a revelation. He at once felt happy about it, but sad at the same time. He realized that he adored Brad. For that he was grateful. Grateful that as low as he'd been laid by Andy's death, someone else had come along and taken a chance on him. Sean missed Andy. Even after all the years it still hurt, but he had to admit that it hurt less and less. He loved Andy. Still. But it was a love that while deep and all-consuming as it was, Sean had to admit, not the same kind of love he had for Brad. Andy was a brother, a companion, a part of him. Juxtaposed to that, Brad was a bundle of contradictions. Solid and reliable, phlegmatic, surprising at both the things he knew and did not know, quick to make decisions, slow until he puzzled it out with certain things requiring nuanced reasoning but resolute and no-one's fool. Sexually, Sean came to the realization that Andy had, other than some mutual dalliances here and there, been his sole partner. As much as Brad appreciated Sean because he wasn't one of the shallow, mean teen-agers, or lecherous, disgusting old men who had used him and discarded him when they were done, Sean appreciated Brad because he knew Brad's love was unconditional and freely given, and sex with Brad was other-worldly.
Sean knew that sooner or later he'd have to let go altogether. In good conscience he couldn't subject Brad to possibly feeling that he was his husband by default, or on probation, or that he was settling because maybe other people thought he should. It wasn't fair. Sean knew he had to let go of Andy. It wasn't fair to Brad. And it wasn't fair to Sean, either. He knew he had a lot of life left to live.
And that he had to get on with it.
On the trip to the lodge they decided to take the Suburban and not the Buick. They had a guest with them. The guest was a cat. In the wayback of the Suburban was a cage suitable for a medium size dog that contained a cat Brad and Sean had got a couple of months earlier.
Brad, out of the blue one day, said that he wanted a dog.
"A dog?!" Sean asked incredulously. "Bradley, I don't see how we can keep a dog. We don't have the yard for it, well maybe we do, but a dog just wouldn't suit our lifestyle. I mean, we're gone sometimes and dogs don't do well under those circumstances. I mean...can we get something other than a dog?"
"A fish?"
A FISH?! A fucking FISH?! That's not a pet... It's a... It's a FISH!"
Brad secretly laughed to himself about Sean's reaction to a fish which Brad didn't want anyway. He said it just to see what Sean would say.
Brad suggested that they take a trip to the Humane Society just to see. He was surprised when Sean agreed without demur.
When they went, Brad hung back to see what Sean would do.
Sean walked around, surprised at all the animals in their cages. And while everything was clean, and the animals appeared well-fed and cared for, Sean's heart sank seeing all the hopeful eyes. But one caught Sean's eye.
It was a cat. The last thing Sean thought he would want.
And it was a special cat. A young male cat, the information card said, and approximately 12 months old. He didn't have a name.
He was solid jet black with emerald green eyes. He was long and sleek with the beginnings of the wide head differentiating a male from a female cat. When the cat saw Sean he trilled at him. He let out a long meow when Sean started to move away, not a crying sound but an authoritative sound saying, "Get back here, human!"
Sean turned around and met the stare of those jade green eyes. The cat purred. Then he turned around while waving his tail over his head and sat looking at Sean through squinted eyes as if to say, "Peasant!"
Sean immediately dragged Brad back to the cage the black cat was in.
"I want this cat!" Sean said. "This one!"
"Um, OK..." Brad said nonchalantly. At least he picked something, Brad thought. "Want me to go get the lady and have her pack him up?"
"Would you? Thanks... Listen to him! He's purring!"
"Yeah, and he's looking at you like you're the world's biggest sucker, too..."
"Well, maybe I am..."
The Humane Society lady came back, looked at Sean and said, "Ah, yes! This one! He's been a bit of a handful..."
"He's been sweet to me!" Sean said. "He purrs and rubs his head on my fist when I offer it to him. How old is he anyway?"
"About a year like it says on the card but we don't really know for sure," the lady replied. "He came from an abandoned home. The Real Estate Broker found him and animal control brought him in. We don't even know his name. We can get him fixed up for you in a couple of days as he needs to be castrated."
"CASTRATED?!" Sean exclaimed. "Why?"
"It's our policy..."
"Well, I wouldn't want my balls cut off!"
"I'm sorry, sir, but it is our policy with every animal that they leave here either spayed, or castrated."
"You run the place, right?"
"Yes..."
"I got $5,000 says you mark your paperwork however you need to mark it and let us take him as he is. Whole."
"Sir! Well! I! I mean!"
"You got a tight budget this year I read in the Gazette the other day..." Brad said.
"Yes we do, but, I mean..."
"Seventy-five hundred!" Sean said.
"No one is to know about this!" the lady said wagging her index finger at Sean who stifled a laugh. "I'll have to mark it as a donation, not an adoption. Repeat, absolutely no one is to know!"
"No one shall know," Sean said. "We'll need a travel case for him, a litter box, and some food. And a collar. And some cat toys."
On the way home Sean looked at Brad. "She said the cat, he doesn't have a name. I can't think of a name for him..."
Brad looked at the proud animal in the back seat peering out of his cage with his green eyes, this time with a smug expression on his face as his tail lazily swished to and fro. The cat trilled at Brad.
"Wizard." Brad said. "His name is Wizard."
"I like that," Sean said. "Wizard. I hope he likes it at the Alamo..."
"He will. There's tons of places in that house for a cat to hide out. Cats like hiding out."
Once they got home and in the house, Wizard did not run off and hide out. Instead he cleaved close to Sean, rubbing up against his legs with his tail held high. Sean set up Wizard's litter box in the mudroom and picked him up and put him down in it. Wizard glared at Sean as if to say, "You think I don't know what a fucking litter box is?"
And so it was, Wizard was affectionate toward Brad, but he was Sean's cat. When Sean took a break from his work at home and went into the living room, there would be Wizard chasing after him. When Sean sat down in his favorite chair with his iPad to catch up on the news, Wizard would hop up, lie down in Sean's lap and demand attention. Every once in a while when being scratched, Wizard would hiss at Sean and bat him with a paw just to show Sean who was really the boss.
But for now, Wizard was content in the wayback of the Suburban. He made nary a sound the entire trip.
When they got to Glen Muick Lodge, Sean took Wizard's cage out of the way back and opened the door.
"You think that's smart?" Brad asked. "He's not a dog... Cats'll run off, ya know... Won't come back if you call him, cats don't give a shit..."
"He won't run off. He'll go where we go. He acts all cool and shit, but that's just an act. He'll stay close."
Sean was right. Wizard followed them right up to the door of the lodge. He meowed at the door until it was open and he could prance inside. Of course, unlike a dog Wizard didn't run willy- nilly all over the place and smell everything. He entered the lodge about six feet, stopped, and casually scoped it out. He saw the window box, jumped up, and sat in it surveying his domain. He loudly called out to his humans to finish doing whatever it was they were doing as they carried the luggage in.
Content once they finished, and once he'd got his daily treat of a few tidbits of poached salmon in a Pyrex ramekin on the floor in the kitchen, Wizard went back to sun himself in the window box and as was his trademark languidly swished his long tail.
Brad and Sean spent the next two days getting the lodge set up the way they wanted it. And the next two nights in sensual decadence before returning to Janesville.
They might have stayed a few days longer, but Brad had to get back. Kevin was leaving Janesville for London to spend a week with Tory and someone senior had to be in the office. Kevin and Tory had acknowledged that they were a couple, and Kevin finally went to George and Peggy's house that night ostensibly for dinner but really to tell them that he and Tory intended to marry.
Initially George and Peggy Dickson had some reservations. George spoke for them both when he told Kevin, "Son, your mother and I want you to know that we appreciate your, um, affection for Victor. You've had a lot of challenges in life. And you've always met them head on. We look at you now compared to what the Doctors told us would be in store for you when you were just a little boy, and it brings tears to our eyes. Now, Victor treats you well enough as far as we can tell, but do you really think this is best? He does have a reputation that precedes him. He's selfish, a little bit unfriendly, and he's, well, he's always been a little snot."
"Not to me," Kevin said. "Did you notice I'm not stuttering?"
"For Pete's sake, yer not, now, are ya..." Peggy said.
"No, I'm not. Tory's been helping me with that. I still might do it a little bit yet, but he's been helping me."
"I see," George said, fondling his wattles.
"He got the idea from an old movie, The King's Speech. He said he knew it w-was only a movie but he'd read up on it. We do stuff like breathing exercises and working on hard words. Sometimes for a couple hours at a time over the phone. I almost don't stutter at all anymore. He spends a lot of hours with me on it. Every week. Even when we're not together. It's meant more to me than anything, mom and dad... He asked me to marry him and I said yes."
"We're happy for ya, son," Peggy said, giving Kevin a kiss on the cheek. You do what you need to do now, don'tcha know. It's your life. You're our first born n' your dad n' I are always gonna be behind ya."
As so often over almost 50 years of marriage, George Dickson deferred to his wife's good sense. At the same time he also accepted his eldest son's judgment. He resigned himself to the fact that a son of Tom Trager, whose name he could barely spit out, would soon enough be his son- in-law. George decided he could not visit the sins of the father upon the son as he had always been a fair man. While Tory Trager might in some ways rub George wrong, Kevin was his eldest son. His son who so far had led a pretty lonely life but now appeared happier and with the possibility of being more like his brothers who were happy in their own marriages. George had to admit that Tory had helped Kevin. And in the end that is what mattered most. George put his reservations aside.
"Have you told anyone else yet?" George asked.
"Nope, just you guys. Not even David or Timmy know. I suppose some people might have guessed, but we haven't said anything... Tory hasn't told his mom yet, either."
"What about his dad?" George asked with a frown.
"I don't think Tory would know how to get a hold of his dad even if he wanted to. His dad isn't part of his life."
"No, I suppose he wouldn't be. Seeing that he doesn't become one would probably be wise, too. And if you two think Tom Trager might cause you any trouble, then have Sean have a little talk with him. Sean's handled Tom Trager before. And for whatever reason, Sean's always had a soft spot in his heart for Tory."
"Thanks, dad. And by the way, when we get married Tory decided he's gonna take the Dickson name. It won't be a combined name, either. Just Tory Dickson. He said I should let you know that if you don't object to it he'd be grateful. I guess I just need you guys to understand that he's been good to me."
"We understand, Kev," Peggy said. "And it's OK if he wants his name to be Dickson."
"Yes, yes, that's fine," George echoed. "Let Tory know your mother and I will be proud to have him as part of the family. Give your old dad a hug, number one son."
Kevin gave his mom and dad a hug. "I love you guys, and thanks for making this easy for me. It's not always easy to talk to your parents about stuff... Even at my age..."
"We had parents, too, don'tcha know..." Peggy laughed. "We'll always be here for ya, and for Tory, too."
Kevin smiled and said goodbye for the evening.
Another wedding turned out to be in the offing as well. That was the marriage of T.J. to Ann Marie. They had announced their engagement a week prior and were planning the wedding which like Sean and Brad's wedding would be a Winter wedding, just not at Christmas but shortly after the turn of the next year.
Sean and Brad realized that they were entering into a period of their lives where they would be at the head of a growing family. There were already two grandchildren with the promise of more to follow.
"You're gonna be a great grandpa," Brad told Sean.
"So will you. Prolly better than me," Sean said. "I gotta make sure that I don't check out on my grandkids like I did with the boys. I have to promise myself that."
"They've forgiven you."
"How do you know that?"
"I just know. And that's good enough."
"What about the twins?" Sean asked.
"Whadya mean what about the twins..."
"Well, I've wondered about this for a long time, but, well, I mean... Do you ever wonder about their relationship?"
"Nope."
"So you think it's normal?"
"You didn't ask me that. You asked me if I wondered about it..."
Sean laughed and kissed Brad on the cheek. "You're so literal..."
"Yup."
"Well, like, whadya think about the twins?"
"I think they are partners in life and I don't think there's anything anyone can do about that."
"OK... Wanna explain that?"
"Yeah. I look at it this way: they're identical twins. And I know the circumstances under which they were born and the special abilities that they were born with. So, they're like really one person. Only they're not. It seems weird to you and me, and I can't really explain it beyond that, but like I said there's nothing anyone can do about that."
"OK, but I mean, are they like, well, like `lovers' do you think?"
"I wouldn't put it that way."
"How would you put it..."
"They're companions for life. They're identical twins with brains we can't really understand. You or I wouldn't believe their abilities if we didn't know them. I think we just gotta accept that they're two sides of the same coin and let them live their lives. If they're, shall we say, intimate with each other, then that's something else that we might or might not understand, too. And if we don't understand it, I don't think we should try."
"I suppose, but you know people are always gonna talk."
"So let them talk. You think Joey and Lennie care?"
"I dunno... I think I would..."
"You're not them and they're not you. They're successful and respected around town. Just leave well enough alone, Sean. I mean, whadya gonna do, ask `em? Like "Do you guys fuck?""
"I don't think so... It's none of my business..."
"No, it's not. But if ya asked me if I think I do, then I'd hafta say it doesn't concern us... I mean, they're just like you and me that way. They have sex drives. But like I said, they're unique among people, or prolly nearly unique. If that's their life, that's their life. It doesn't concern us..."
"You're right. If they ever wanna talk to me about it, they will..."
"Yup. "'N' if they don't, they don't."
"What about Tommy, though... I mean, what if other kids give him shit about his dads?"
"Well, did your boys ever get any shit? Look, Tommy'll be fine. He's a nice kid and besides, he's got two older cousins gonna be in school there with him and you're gonna be one of the football coaches. Ain't nobody gonna fuck with him... Would you?"
"No, I guess you're right..." Sean said. "Anyway, speaking of fucking, wanna fuck?"
"I thought you'd never ask... I wanna fuck you like you fucked me that night in the Bahamas. Then when we're done let's take a sauna and go again."
Sean charged out of the bar, up the stairs and was naked in the sling by the time Brad got in the room.
Sometime later, they closed all the security blinds so that no one could see into the Alamo and they sat together naked at the bar, both on folded Turkish towels. Brad because it was comfortable and Sean because his asshole was still leaking Brad's two loads of sperm.
Brad made a pitcher of Mojitos. At that hour of the night, he thought Old Fashionds would be too heavy of a drink, and Margaritas too sharp. He wanted something light and refreshing.
Brad made his Mojitos in different ways, and late at night he didn't want anything sweet so this round was made with the usual white rum, in this case Bacardi Superior which might not be the absolutely best but was very high quality and always available, fresh mint leaves with the normal amount cut in half but the difference made up with earthy fresh sage leaves, and lime juice augmented with several dashes of Angostura bitters and one dash of 25-year-old Balsamic vinegar. For sugar, Brad used the standard bartender's sugar cube. The herbal leaves were muddled first with the sugar, then put in a shaker with the rest of the ingredients and large cubes of ice, then shaken and strained into a plain martini glass containing one large ice cube. The garnish was a lime slice pierced through by a decoratively curved sage leaf.
The drink was featured on the bar menu at both the Country Club and the Orleans Room at the Monterey. In both places it was listed on the cocktail menu as the Rum Fletcher, but it had won the award in the past year as the best Mojito in Wisconsin.
The judges remarked that it was "unexpected" and "a simple yet significant departure." When asked, Brad merely said with a grin and a shrug, "I'm a simple yet significant guy! Anyway, it's a simple drink... I'm honored to have made it for you."
A month later, Sean and Brad were ready to have their first guests at Glen Muick Lodge. They asked Benton and Jonathan to join them. They flew up and were joined by a pilot instructor as neither Sean, nor Brad had their full pilots' licenses yet, nor the hours necessary to fly alone. The instructor had a brother in the area and would spend the time with family. Sean piloted the plane out of the airport in Janesville with the instructor acting as First Officer. Halfway through the flight, over Adams County, Sean passed the controls to Brad who made a good landing at the lodge. The instructor offered some post-flight constructive criticisms, but told Sean and Brad that overall they handled the plane, which was a twin-engine turboprop, more than satisfactorily.
Benton and Jonathan enjoyed knowing Sean and Brad were flying the plane. And they were amused by Wizard's glaring at them through pinched eyes. They all brought work with them, so their time would be more of a short working vacation, but the time away was welcome, nevertheless. Sean and Brad showed their guests to their room and suggested they unpack while Sean got dinner on the table. As expected he was met with howls over plates of shit on a shingle, but he just laughed and said, "fuckin' eat it."
After dinner, while I'm cleaning up Brad will make you some of his famous drinks. We'll go outside on the patio. I've wanted to check out the fire pit.
"Why don't we fire up the sauna?" Brad asked. "We'll prolly get cold outside, so we can warm up when we're done..."
"Works for me," Sean said. "You guys?" he asked Benton and Jonathan.
"I'm in," Benton said.
"Yup," Jonathan echoed with thoughts of sugarplums dancing in his head.
Brad caught Sean for a few seconds while Sean was cleaning up the kitchen and the dishes. "You think those guys wanna fool around?"
"Dunno..." Sean replied. "What if they do?"
"Well, that Jon keeps looking at me, checking me out... Benton is kinda hard to read, but he doesn't do anything to restrain his boyfriend..."
Wizard gave a long, sarcastic meow as if to say, "Get real."
"Whadya wanna do?"
"Dunno... Let's see..."
"Let's see then... Let's show off a little cock in the sauna."
"Ya think?"
"Sure. Just don't make it obvious."
"Won't have to. We always get semis in the sauna... I'll make sure we have some drinks to take with us and I'll get them some towels. You just finish up the kitchen here."
"Sounds like a plan..."
Thirty minutes later, after sitting around the fire pit on the crisp evening, all four of them were enjoying the dry heat of the Glen Muick sauna. Brad supplied everyone with a giant, heavy white Turkish towel and made sure there was a nice supply of various oils at the ready. He also had a bucket of water and a ladle ready for when they wanted steam and eucalyptus leaves to scent the air.
Sean and Brad spread out their towels on the cedar benches and lay down reclining on their sides. Benton and Jonathan took their cues and did likewise.
After a little while Brad said he was going to go out of the sauna room to the building's kitchenette and bring in some drinks for them.
"Lemme give you a hand," Jonathan said.
Brad, being no dummy, stopped short of the counter where the drink glasses and pitcher were. Not expecting that, Jonathan ran into Brad from the rear, his semi-hard dick lodging in Brad's ass crack.
Brad reacted with no surprise, didn't say a word, and didn't move. He was, however, pretty sure he felt Jonathan's semi chub up into a full hard on.
"Sorry," Jonathan half-whispered.
"Why? It feels nice. So... Whadya wanna do about it?"
"Right now, if we didn't know each other and we were, like, in a bath house, I'd want to fuck you. If that were the case, what would YOU wanna do?"
"I'd let you. But we're not in a bath house are we, and we do know each other, don't we. So, I'll ask ya again, whadya wanna do?"
"Um..."
Brad turned his head around and kissed Jonathan. "Stick the head in my hole. Just the head. Spit on it and stick it in."
"You're sure..."
"Yeah, just the head."
Jonathan did as he was told and gasped when Brad's sphincter pumped the head of his dick.
"You could make me cum doing that," Jonathan huskily whispered. "I guess we better go back. Gimme an ice cube so I can put it on my boner and make it go down some, will ya?"
Brad just laughed as he handed Jonathan an ice cube.
"Let's get back to Sean and Benton," Brad said. "Who knows, right?"
When they got back to the sauna and Sean and Benton they were in for a surprise.
Sean lay on his back on the cedar bench, towel off. His cock was a little more than semi hard, resting on his thigh, and he lazily grazed over the length of the underside with his fingertips, his cock twitching ever so slightly as he did so.
Sean had his eyes closed and didn't seem to be paying attention to anything.
Benton was seated on the next bench 90 degrees over making side-eyes at Sean and obviously breathing heavily. Benton had also lost his towel. Brad noted a smooth body, finely trimmed pubic hair, a thick cock almost totally hard and with the smallest glistening drip of precum on the piss slit.
Brad's cock was immediately erect. He elected to do nothing about it and simply entered the sauna with two drinks in his hand and Jonathan following behind. Brad walked right up to Benton, with no pretense of disguising the condition of his cock and handed Benton his drink.
As Benton reached for his drink Brad turned a bit and his hard cock rubbed across Benton's hand.
Benton jumped.
"Easy there..." Brad snickered.
Jonathan went over to Sean, tapping him on the shoulder and handing him his drink. Jonathan gawked at Sean's cock as Sean continued to lightly graze it.
"My eyes are up here..." Sean smirked. "Wanna touch it?" Sean asked not failing to take note of Benton's eyeing of Brad's cock and his heavy breathing. "Go on, touch it..."
Jonathan did so, eyes darting between Sean, Benton, and Brad... No one seemed to be acting as if anything untoward was happening, so Jonathan switched his touch to a standard masturbating grasp and slowly and lightly masturbated Sean's now totally hard penis.
Brad's erection was still pointed straight at Benton's face. Benton looked up at Brad, mesmerized by the beautiful, slim, taught figure in front of him. Brad smiled. "Why don't you suck it," Brad said. "Wait, I think I wanna suck yours. You eat my ass. Wanna do that?"
Benton grunted affirmatively.
Sean looked over at Brad. They both smiled. Sean and Jonathan did the same with Sean sucking Jonathan and Jonathan eating Sean.
After a few minutes, Sean and Brad rose from the benches.
"We're gonna give you each a massage," Sean said. "Brad's gonna put some eucalyptus on the coals and we've got some nice, soothing oils here. We give each other massages a lot at home, so we'll make you guys feel good. We're not gonna make you cum, though..."
"No?" Benton asked.
"No," Brad said, "After your massages you're gonna fuck us. You'd like that, no?"
"Well, um..." Jonathan stammered.
"That's not a no, so fucking it is," Sean smirked.
"We're gonna draw straws," Brad said. "Two are long and two are short. The two short ones fuck and the two long ones fuck. Sean and I are gonna bottom for you guys. You can be as gentle or as rough with us as you want."
"You guys do this a lot?" Benton asked.
"Really we don't," Sean said. "There's a very few select people. Very few. And we hadn't planned to get you up here for this anyway. We're just opening this place, it's new, and we think of you as friends. Hell, you live over our garage so there wouldn't have been any need to drag you guys all the way up here if all we wanted was for you to fuck us anyway... This just sort of happened I think. And that's fine. You guys are comfortable with this, or...?"
Benton and Jonathan looked at each other and shrugged.
"We're in," Jonathan said.
"We gonna fuck in here?" Benton asked.
"No, we're gonna massage you guys in the sauna here. Then we'll shower. We will wash you and stimulate you in the shower and it'd be mighty fine if you'd return the favor. Then we'll fuck. You're going to feel like noodles, trust me. Every pore in your skin will tingle. And then we're gonna stimulate your prostates, milk you a little bit, and edge your cocks before you shove `em in us. Fucking us after all that is gonna be like gliding..." Brad said.
"Let's get to it then. Where do you want me?" Benton asked.
"How about inside me," Brad said.
Benton choked on his drink and lay down on his belly on one of the cedar benches.
Sean motioned for Jonathan to do the same.
Brad and Sean expertly administered deep tissue massages to their guests. When done at long last with shoulders, backs, arms and the like, they turned their ministrations to the glutes. The ass buns. And everything that entailed. Their oiled fingers glided up and down their subjects' ass cracks paying special attention to Benton and John's holes after Sean looked at Brad with an evil smirk and made a poking motion with his index finger and mouthed the word `prostate.'
Simultaneous guttural groans emanated from their charges. Benton's bubble butt bucked as Brad's index finger found and titillated its target. And the same for Jonathan's fuzzy buns that were almost as round as Benton's. Always observant, Brad noted the physical characteristics of their guests. Benton he noted was less than six feet tall. Maybe five-foot-nine. He had a cobby, stocky build with wide shoulders tapering to a somewhat narrower waist and then filling out into that exquisite butt with buns forever, and muscular thighs. He had obviously strong arms. He had a darkish complexion for a black, and his supple skin was flawless. Not a single blemish anywhere. His skin was smooth with almost no hair anywhere other than nicely trimmed pubes and pits. He had a roundish face with a smallish nose, almond-shaped eyes, and luscious thick lips. Benton could have been a model for a statue.
Jonathan posed an interesting juxtaposition. A seemingly standard-issue taller white guy. Maybe 6'1", average build but with an unexpectedly nice ass. Dirty blonde hair, smooth chested but with hairy legs and buns, and nice buns, too. His facial features were unremarkable other than for their conformity. Everything was nice. Nice enough. Not beautiful, but handsome. Jonathan had a medium-sized straight nose, kissable lips, and also almond-shaped eyes but with the difference being that while Benton's eyes looked inquisitive and friendly there was something piercing about Jonathan's. Not unfriendly, but just maybe a little more penetrating than his husband's. Jonathan, however, made up for that with a quicker smile.
The straws had been drawn. Benton was to fuck Brad and Jonathan fuck Sean.
And so they spent a lot of the rest of their time at the lodge.
At one point, Benton took Sean aside. "You're not gonna mention any of this to T.J., are you?"
"Nope," Sean said. "You've got a business relationship with Teej. And just so ya know, he thinks very highly of you. You'll make money and more than that you'll make a name for yourself. Hell, you might even end up running the joint one day as far as I can tell. That's your deal with him. Your deal with me and Brad is you guys are our friends, I guess... I mean if you guys think so... I'm not gonna say anything to Teej. And Brad? Brad never says anything to anyone..."
"Yeah, he's pretty circumspect alright..."
"Yes, he is. And he's a good husband. He won't say anything."
"So how do we leave this when we get back?"
"Well, we leave it wherever the four of us want to leave it, or don't want to leave it. You know, an old friend of mine who you haven't met yet has a saying. It goes like this: Those who cannot manage their affairs don't deserve to have them."
"That's clever..."
"It's also true."
With that, they finished their conversation on the subject. And it was also the beginning of a long and fruitful friendship between the two couples. Benton and Jonathan would stay in Janesville for many years, moving out of the apartment over the Alamo garage two years later and into a large custom-built home located on the only unbuilt parcel backing up to the golf course at the Country Club, a course Benton and Jonathan had grown to love.
On their return trip home, Brad took the take-off portion of the flight with Sean handling the landing. Again, both fledgling pilots did well. And again, Wizard sat regally in his cage swishing his long tail aloofly at his human companions.
Two weeks later Brad pulled into the garage after work and was greeted at the door by an agitated Wizard who was screaming and crying at him, running six feet away and then running back to him again to wail yet again.
Brad sensed something was wrong so he decided after he took his shoes off he'd simply follow the cat. Maybe he just wanted a treat or something...
Brad followed Wizard who every few feet turned around to make sure Brad was behind him, and still meowing at an ear-splitting level.
Wizard ran, tail high, into the den. Brad ran after him and was greeted by Sean lying face down on the floor.
END CHAPTER SEVENTY