In the following story, all of the characters are totally fictive and the setting is real. For whomever it would be illegal, immoral or prohibited for any other reason whatsoever to read a story about love between two young men is kindly requested to refrain from continuing. A free picture album illustrating this story (pdf) is available upon request at maringiustinian@gmail.com. Please remember to help Nifty stay online by sending your contributions. This being said, I hope you enjoy the tale.
TWO OF A KIND, part two and end
by Marin Giustinian
Another splendid frosty morning glittered outside!
Tim shaved the slight fuzz he had on his upper lip, fluffed his hair, and dressed in his new attire. He looked like he had just stepped out of a fashion magazine. Jake too was looking his best.
They packed their overnight bag, heated up the truck, and left. After they hit the Interstate, Jake glanced at Tim, "Nervous?"
"Yes... so what!" Tim quipped back, still looking out the window.
"Me too..."
Tim turned, leaned over and gave Jake a kiss on the cheek.
Tim was rather impressed as they pulled into the long driveway of the Carlson home.
When Jake opened the back door and called out, "I'm back!", Hattie, the cook and house keeper, ran up.
"Come on in, boy. Your father's in his studio, as usual," she said looking at Tim up and down, then back at Jake.
"I know, Hattie, what you're thinking. We do look alike!"
"I bet you do, Mr. Jake! I'll tell Mr. Merce you're here. Do you have any bags."
"Just this little sack. Don't worry," replied Jake, adding, "Tell Dad we're in the den."
Merce came in a few minutes later. He and Jake hugged and then turning to Tim, he said, "You must be Tim, I suppose."
"Yes, Sir."
"Pleased to meet you, boy. It's amazing how much you favor my son... Absolutely astounding!" then turning to Jake, "I see what you mean... and so, Jake tells me that you and he are... How can I say it? Uh, two of a kind."
"If you mean gay, Dad, then you're right. We are gay and very much in love!"
"So be it!" stated Merce, inspecting Tim once more.
"Mr. Merce, where do you want me to put this tray?" announced Hattie, coming in with a bottle of white Chardonnay in an ice bucket and three glasses.
"Over there on the side-boy. Jake's going to do the service. Tim and I are going to take a seat."
Jake filled their glasses, gave one to his Dad first, then to Tim and sat beside him, raising his glass.
"Son, wait before toasting. Tell me more about you two."
"There's not really that much to say. We recognized each other, fell in love, and became lovers..."
"I'm not asking you to go into details. That's your business, but don't you think you could be a bit more generous?" jested Merce.
"If you don't mind, Sir," spoke up Tim, "I'd like to tell my side before Jake tells his. I won't be long."
"Good initiative, Tim... I like that," complimented Merce.
Tim spoke in a very matter-of-fact way about himself. He told about his shock meeting Jake, and his feelings. He insisted on the fact that he really loved Jake, and that he wasn't looking for somebody to keep him up
"I have money of my own and can pay my share, Sir."
"Now it's your turn, Jake," stated Merce.
Jake inisted on the depth of their feelings, their mutual outlook on life, and above all, the fact that he had never been that happy in all his life.
"I think we can toast now!" asserted Merce, beaming at his two sons.
Hattie came back in, saying, "Lunch is on the table, Mr. Merce. I'll be on my way now. Will you all still be here Monday, Mr. Jake?"
"No, M'am. We're leaving tomorrow evening."
"Have a safe trip back then. Bye-bye."
Once she was gone, Jake whispered to Tim, "Hattie runs this house, but Dad gives her Saturday afternoon and Sunday off," then he turned to Merce, "Dad, could we talk about an important matter before lunch?"
Merce nodded.
Jake explained his idea of his father adopting Tim. Merce carefully listened, often looking at Tim.
There was a long silence.
"So what do you say, Dad?"
"If I understand, Tim, you've never known a father."
"Can I freely speak with the words I'm used to using, Sir?"
"Of course"
"Thank you, Sir. To put things the way they are, my mom told me that when she was sixteen, she and some of her friends went to camp and party on the beach down in North Carolina. She said they met up with some Canadian boys and started a fire on the beach, drinking and partying like mad. She said she got drunk, and went off in the dunes with the best looking boy she'd ever seen, claiming he was seventeen. My mom says he was more like fifteen, but just too good looking to resist. The next morning the Canadians were gone and she learned two months later that she was pregnant with me. My grandparents were Bible beating, fundamentalist holy rollers according to my mom. They simply kicked her out of the house. She found shelter in a home for girls like her, and stayed there until I was a year old. Then she had to fend for herself. She found a job sorting stuff out in the Dollar Store over in Gum Spring. She got promoted to cashier and still holds that job. She's not very distinguished but she's a real woman, and she's my Mother. She got me through high school. Life wasn't always easy for us nor between us. I was what the other kids called 'trailer trash'. 'Trailer' that's for sure... but 'trash'... That's not me, Sir! Anyway, I was also called pretty boy, or sissy, fag and you name it. I felt gay, looking all delicate like, but I can fight off any thug that bugs me... and especially the stupider ones. So getting back to my Mom, she's got her ways and I've got mine. After I graduated, her boyfriend came in to live with us. We were cramped in the trailer. So I left to find work picking grapes... that's when I fell in love with your son, my like-of-a-kind brother whom I treasure like life itself. She knows about Jake and me and said I'd be crazy to not try to make him happy. There, I've spoken my mind, Sir."
Merce nodded, stood, and walked over to the window. Jake and Tim, attentive and tense, held hands.
Merce turned and looked at the boys.
"Stand up, both of you."
Tim glanced at Jake. Then stood.
"Timothy Carlson, come here and let me hug you. Welcome to the family. Now kiss your brother-lover, who's going to drop dead on the carpet if you don't do it immediately!"
Laughter exploded like a clap of thunder. They kissed and danced around, then jumped on Merce, seizing him in a mighty four-armed hug.
Merce struggled, laughing too, yelled, "Okay, enough. Now calm down. We've got to act fast. Tim, do you think your mother would answer if you called her now?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Do so and tell her that she's invited out to lunch tomorrow at Lemaire's on 101 West Franklin Street in downtown Richmond. Sunday's there's no parking problem. If she gets there before we do, tell her to say she's with the Carlson party. She can come with her boyfriend if she wants. I need to talk with her about the adoption. I know her consent isn't needed since you're now legally an adult -- but I like to do things in a gentleman's way. Please go into the living room and call now, explaining everything to her in your words, as you say, and then come back to tell us what to expect. And you, Jake, I've got to say a few words with you in private."
Tim went and called. Jake sat back down waiting for his father to speak.
"I'm happy for you boy. I'll back you as long as you need to get that book written and sold. That's now clear. However, what's more important is that I'm sure Tim's a miracle for you, Son. I've always felt that you were gay, and I was worried, very worried! All the gays I've known were unstable, unhappy, or totally unable to love for good. I was afraid you'd get pulled into a world that you couldn't handle. I don't mind you being gay. You have the right to do what you need to do with your cock, but I do mind if being gay makes you unhappy, and that stupid world out there has a way of making gay men and women very unhappy. You and I... and your mother, weren't and are not special, but we're not stupid either. So to get to the point, Son, you must love that boy with all your might. Otherwise, you're not worthy to carry my name, and now that I'm going to give my name to Tim, I'm counting on the both of you to bear it in such a way that I'll always be proud. Do you understand?"
Jake's tears were brimming in his smiling eyes as he looked with devotion at his father.
"I certainly do, Dad!"
As they were hugging, Tim came back in and announced that Sheila, his mother, was coming by herself tomorrow.
"Fine. That's settled. Are you guys hungry?"
"Starved!" exclaimed Jake.
"Me too, Sir... but can I use the toilet first?"
"Jake show him where it is."
Jake returned and asked his father, "What do you think Mom would say about Tim and me, Dad?"
"I feel like she's telling me right now that she's happy as a lark on wing for you two, Son."
"You know, Dad... When Tim told me a day or so ago that he envied me having a father, I told him that he's lucky to have a mother. He then replied that we were doubly lucky."
"Smart kid... I guess I'm doubly lucky too."
They were laughing together when Tim hurried up, "What's so funny?"
"Life, Tim... Life," replied Merce as they left for the dining room.
Sheila Gresham was already seated in the restaurant when Merce, Jake, and Tim came in. Tim immediately ran over to hug his mother.
She exclaimed, "God, aren't you one good looking fellow, Tim! Love does you good!"
Tim blushed as he made the presentations, "Sheila this is Jake, you know, Jake..."
"I know him! He's your future spitting image. He sure could pass for your big brother."
"And Sheila, here's his father, Merce Carlson, architect. Carlson father and son, meet Sheila Gresham, my mom!" proudly stated Tim.
"She looks more like your sister, Tim," replied Merce, holding out his hand to Sheila.
"How gallant of you, Merce! A real Southern gentleman," replied Sheila, trying to use her lady-like charm.
Jake immediately broke in stating, "Okay, people, let's sit down!" then turning to Sheila, "I'm really pleased to meet you, M'am. Tim says such great things about you..."
Sheila laughed and said, "You can cut out the M'am stuff, if you don't mind. Makes me feel old! Yes, my boy's a wicked talker," winking at Tim, "but he's still a sweet kid... Queer as a three dollar bill, but I love him, and I'm damn glad you came around to love him too!"
Merce added, "Sheila, I've never seen such oversexed undernourished love birds like these two. So let's order!"
The meal came. They all ate. Spirits were high. After dessert, the subject of the adoption came up. Sheila simply said that she had never dared hope for something as wonderful as that to happen.
"I was so worried about him when he left. He could have ended up selling blowjobs to buy his crack... You never know nowadays... Bless you Jake and Merce Carlson. Is Tim going to be Timothy Carlson once you've adopted him?"
Jake nodded saying, "Looking so much alike, it's easier in life to be the Carlson brothers rather than just queer lovers."
"Amen! And I've always been afraid that the Gresham name would be a curse on my gay son... Horrible people, those Greshams! I'm lucky to be getting married and let the Gresham name go to hell!"
Merce complimented Sheila, saying, "So you're getting off to a new start! Congratulations, I wish you all the best."
"That's mighty sweet of you, honey. Thank you again. What do I owe you for the lunch?"
Jake immediately exclaimed, "Sheila, you're our guest!"
"Why didn't you tell me that on the phone yesterday, you rascal?" Sheila joked, scolding her son, tapping him on the cheek.
"Mom... please..."
"You're right, sweetheart. I really should behave... but I'm happy, and when I'm happy, things sort of get out of control! This is all so lovely, but I've got to run. It's our church bingo night..."
The Carlsons rose, bade Sheila good-bye. Tim escorted her to her car and ran back to the restaurant.
"Thank you both! I don't know what to say," exclaimed Tim, trying to hold back his emotion.
"Boys, don't you think it's about time you two hit the road too. Gets dark early now," suggested Merce.
"I guess so, Dad."
As they were walking back to the cars, Jake asked, "What are your plans for Christmas, Dad?"
"Whatever you come up with, boys..."
"It's sure we'll be back!" shouted Tim.
"I'll keep you both posted about the adoption. Tim you'll have to come over for the signing."
"No problem, Dad!"
Suddenly, as soon as the words fell from his lips, Tim broke into tears, stuttering as he wept, "Holy Jesus! I didn't even know I could ever say Dad to someone!"
As Jake went to hug Tim, Merce broke in saying, "Let me do that."
They talked all the way back about the turn of events. Tim kept on saying that he could hardly believe all that was happening. Jake too said that love, their love, Tim's love had changed his life too.
"I really realized how you were meant to become a part of my life when we saw stars together again in my boyhood bed, Tim."
"You did a lot of grunting and screaming, Jake. I think I did too. I felt like it would never end."
"Me neither, it just kept coming out, on and on..."
"And the sly smile on your father's face at breakfast this morning when he asked if we weren't too tired... Ha! He's a fantastic man, your dad!"
"You mean our dad, don't you?"
"Good God, yes! I'm just having problems getting used to having a dad in my life!"
It was already dark when they pulled into the garage.
Jake immediately began to get a fire going while Tim scrambled a batch of eggs, cheese and mushrooms.
After supper, they cuddled in front of the fire while the water heated in the wet room. They bathed each other with a double dose of tenderness.
"Jake, I think we can scream and holler again all we want, don't you?"
"I'm sure the stars won't mind..."
There's a certain quality of fervor, nothing less than sublime when love submerges the lust of loving. The gates of awareness open onto a whole new dimension of ecstasy. The drive to merge, the rhythmic trance of merging, and the sacred instant of abandon combine to explode within and between the lovers in a flash of ineffable light.
Winter 2017/18
Jake's private lessons worked miracles. The lads loved him. They also envied his brother who came by the school every now and then.
Christmas with Merce was a double event. Santa visited two sons instead of one, adding a smart little Mazda roadster to the cabin's garage, keeping the Silverado company. The other event was Merce introducing his fiancée to his sons. They were immediately seduced by Edith's elegance, a true Southern lady. Happiness glowed when she and Merce were together. They were no longer alone to moan, yelp, and laugh in the bedrooms upstairs.
Jake began writing his book. It simply related what he and Tim were living, their everyday life in their special cabin by the creek together. It told how they solved their problems, how they learned to accept the inevitable differences that had to occur between brothers and lovers.
Jake decided to elude graphic descriptions of their sex life, even if the entire book was a hymn to Eros, binding the two of them both with increasing depth and joy.
Writing their story wasn't easy, but slowly the pages became chapters. Tim read what Jake had written every day. He was a stringent but loving critic. In fact, they forged the essence of the book together. Maybe the manuscript could be sent off in the spring!
The Greene County Library in Stanardsville was only twenty minutes away. Tim drove the roadster over to spend hours browsing there. He brought books back to the cabin, reading all he could. He ended up being hired part time by Mrs. Mitchell, the librarian. He mended damaged books, cleaned them, dusting them, taking them off the shelf to dust there as well. He'd strike up conversation with the few youngsters who wandered in. More and more came in. Tim was proud to be so openly appreciated.
Spring 2018
The writing went faster than Jake had expected. He read at least six times his manuscript. Tim proofread it too. Finding a title was excruciating! They reluctantly settled on a possible title, 'Two of a Kind'. The manuscript was sent to twelve publishing houses in North America and four in the UK. The same standard reply came back acknowledging reception, saying that the manuscript would soon be read and decided upon as soon as possible.
From April to June, the Appalachians are an enchantment of flowers and gentle breezes before the torrid Virginia summer covers the land with its steamy wet blanket. Dogwoods bloom like stars in the tender green of the awakening woods, bees buzz, and the birds are back busy with their nests. Creek waters by the cabin gush, giggling and growling with glee, tumbling down to the river to soon be lost in the distant Atlantic.
It was on the first really warm day of late May when Tim and Jake felt the irresistible urge to go down to the creek, strip and worship the sun. They wandered up and down the early morning banks, each exploring the pools and cascades as they came. From time to time, they hugged, feeling the equally irresistible springtime surge of life in their groins. Unable to postpone the inevitable, they hurried back up to the cabin with churning hormones. The hour that followed was indeed quite memorable for each.
As they were catching their breath together in bed, Jake's phone chirped an incoming voice mail. Tim's head was resting on Jake's chest. Jake caressed Tim's hair with one hand as he listened to the message with the phone in the other.
Suddenly Jake screamed, howled, shouted, "GOOD GOD ALMIGHTY! TIM, LISTEN TO THIS!" Tim jolted and sat as if stuck by lightning. Jake handed the phone over to Tim, replaying the message. Tim looked at Jake with a look of total astonishment, and uttered, "After all those American refusals... Holy shit! The Brits -- Antinous Editions, in London -- They want to publish the book!"
Tim dropped the phone, grabbed Jake and rolling together, naked as the day of creation, they laughed like crazy. Then, still naked they tumbled down the ladder and fired up the computer. As the voice message stipulated, a proposition of a contract was waiting to be opened. They read and re-read. It was indeed a very decent proposition.
"Let's see... it's ten thirty in the morning here, so in London, it's... It's three thirty in the afternoon. With luck, there's still somebody in the office. I have to call!" exclaimed Jake.
"Don't you think you should at least put your boxers on?" giggled Tim.
"Why? They can't see if I'm naked or not! Good God, Tim, I'm so excited, I can hardly talk!"
"Take a deep breath, give me a kiss, and call!"
"You're right!"
Jake spoke with Cynthia Ford in Chelsea-London for a little over twenty minutes. She was the person in charge of Jake's manuscript. Tim listened, fascinated by Cynthia's Queen's English accent. They concluded that the best would be for Antinous Editions to fly Jake and his brother over to London three weeks later. They would be the guests of the editing house in the neighboring Beaufort Hotel for four days with their table reserved in a nearby restaurant. She said that four days would be largely enough to iron out all the details, and sign the contract.
While Jake and Cynthia talked, Tim paced around the room, beaming, jittering, again hardly able to soak in what was happening. He kept muttering to himself: London, flight, hotel, publisher... things that he had never even imagined possible for him to experience.
When Jake ended his call, Tim ran up chanting, "Call Merce! Call Merce! Call Merce!"
Jake sat there, stunned as tears rose in his eyes, mumbling, "I can't believe it. I just can't believe it! Good God, I just can't..."
"Jake! Stop your damn blubbering and call your fucking FATHER!"
"Hug me, kiss me, fuck me again! Maybe I'm dreaming!"
Grabbing Jake by the shoulders, Tim shook him hard, shouting, "I'll hug, kiss, and fuck the brains out of you after you've called our dad! Got it?"
Jake's tears of joy became hiccups of laughter.
"Okay! Take it easy... I'm calling!"
Merce listened as Jake explained everything to him, giving him their dates in London. His father said he was excessively proud. He told them he could get their passports delivered within a week.
"That's wonderful, Dad!"
"Listen, I've got an idea... I'll call you back in a few minutes. Now, is Tim with you there?"
"He's beside me."
"I want to speak with him."
"Tim, dad wants you on the phone," said Jake.
"Hello," uttered Tim, looking a bit surprised.
"Tim, I just want to congratulate you on how much your love for Jake surely fueled his creativity and stamina. Jake told me earlier that the book was based on the life you two are creating together. If it's going to press now, it's also because of you, Son!"
Now it was Tim's turn to start blubbering.
"Love belongs to everybody, Dad... and nobody's the owner. Thanks a lot! I love you!"
"I love you too. Bye!"
Tim collapsed in Jake's arms, mumbling over and over, "Wow... Wow! WOW!"
"Didn't you say something about fucking my brains out a few minutes ago, Brother?"
"What? Uh... yeah, but I think I need you to fuck me out of my mind first!"
"Why don't we take care of that job after lunch. Aren't you starved?"
"Holy Heavens, YES! Hungry, horny, and very, very happy!"
As they were preparing lunch, Jake's phone rang.
"That must be dad... He said he'd call... That you, Dad?"
Jake turned the loud speaker of his phone back on.
"Of course it is. I want you to inform Antinous Editions to book your flights one-way because I'm going to spoil you two by booking and paying a return passage aboard the Cunard liner, Queen Mary 2, in a cabin with view."
"What? My God, Dad!"
Tim was drinking a glass of water. When he heard that, he choked.
"That's my congratulations gift," stated Merce.
Jake managed to utter, "I'm without words!"
"Then it's best to say nothing, Jake. I'll keep you posted about your passports. I have both your records, so that's going to be easy. Bye."
"Tim, can you believe that? We're going to fly to London, sign for the book, and come back home on an ocean liner..."
"No, I don't believe it... and I don't care! Let happen what must happen. Now I have an important question for you, Jake Carlson. Do you want mustard or mayonnaise on your ham sandwich?"
"Both!" yelled Jake, laughing like mad, "You are so... I don't know... so..."
"Fundamental?"
"Yes, that's it, Brother! Fundamental!"
They were two very excited young men as they hugged their father, checked in, and boarded the 6:20 PM flight for London-Heathrow. It was the first time for Tim to fly. He was quite impressed by the comfort in business class. The food and drinks were great; the movie was boring; they dozed off, holding hands, and after an otherwise uneventful flight, they touched down at 7:00 AM local time, under a very typical British drizzle.
After going through customs and passport formalities, They were duly met by a taxi driver, holding a slate with their names chalked on it.
"Cynthia does things well," commented Jake, getting in the taxi.
"Weird car... the wheel's on the wrong side."
"You'll see why in a minute," laughed Jake.
In spite of the heavy morning traffic, speeding along on the wrong side of the road, they did arrive at the hotel, safe and sound. Jake claimed their reservations, a groom grabbed their bags, and led them to their en suite. Once they were alone in the room, Tim exclaimed, "This place is incredible! This whole situation is absolutely incredible!"
Jake grabbed Tim in a big hug, saying, "And you, Brother, are unbelievable too! Look, they even reserved us a room with a big bed for two. Listen, we've got time to take a leisurely shower, change into fresh clothes, and show up at the publishing house at ten on the dot."
"If we take a really quick shower, I reckon we've got enough time also to attend to some important business before dressing up, don't we, Jake?" stated Tim, fondling Jake's crotch.
"If you say so," laughed Jake.
The phone rang. It was Cynthia.
Tim was already naked. Heading to the bathroom, he heard Jake say, "Yes, everything's perfect -- We might be a wee late -- Ten thirty? -- Wonderful, see you then!"
Cynthia was older than her voice on the phone led to believe. She was absolutely charming, putting the Carlson brothers immediately at ease. After a bit of small talk, she briefed them on their agenda: lunch with the owner and director of the editing house. During the afternoon they had to work with the managing editor, the cover designer, and the person in charge of promoting the book, both in the UK and North America. Before leaving for the restaurant, Cynthia stated, "But before we get started, we must talk about money. Do you have any observations concerning the contract I sent you?"
"If I understand correctly, Antinous Editions propose to buy all the rights for £20,000 and we receive 12% on the sale of each book," stipulated Jake, speaking like his father.
"Correct."
"I prefer to keep the rights for possible cinema and/or television productions, and sell all the other rights for £18,000."
"We shall discuss that with Mr. Jenkins during lunch..."
Jenkins was very cordial. When the question of a possible modification in the contract came up, Jenkins thought a few seconds and said, "You're right about your book's potential to become a good film or series. I immediately thought that as I read. Listen, I'm making a counterproposition. I buy all your rights for £36,000 and you get 30% of the sale along with the due artistic royalties owed by an eventual film producer. This of course being over and beyond the royalties on the sale of your book. What do you think?"
Jake looked at Tim. Tim pointed at his eye and winked.
"I think it's a good deal... however... we reserve the right to give our approval... or veto, concerning the adaptation, storyboard, and filming of the production."
"For such a young man, beginning his career, you do negotiate your interests quite well, Mr. Carlson. Cynthia, have our barrister draw up a new draught of the contract following Mr. Carlson's desiderata. Now, that we've settled those little details, tell me some about your life together in Virginia..."
Without going into intimate details, Jake and Tim talked about the cabin, their work. Jake spoke about his tutoring and Tim about the library, concluding, "I think our major job, Mr. Jenkins, I mean our real creation, is how we create our life together. Writing about it is just an echo to share with the world."
"Create our life... Yes... Quite well said, young man. Perfect! Cynthia, jot that down. We can use it for the back cover of the book," noted Jenkins, "now, gentlemen, you must excuse me. I must be off... It's been a real pleasure."
Cynthia expressed her admiration of their simplicity as they left the restaurant. The rest of the afternoon was dedicated to all the other details. As their jet lag caught up on them, Cynthia said they could retire to their hotel.
"Gentlemen, you must be exhausted. We can carry on tomorrow, if you want."
Tim nodded exclaiming, "Fine with me, M'am!"
Jake smiled his approval of the idea.
"By the way, would you like for me to line up a private sightseeing tour of London for you, and maybe a show on West End? I think we'll have everything settled a day earlier than we thought."
"Cynthia, you're a real wonder-woman!" exclaimed Tim, grabbing her in a very spontaneous hug.
Cynthia startled, giggling like a school girl, then managed to say, "Well, Mr. Carlson, I do thank you for your unexpected compliment. I try to do my best..."
"You really do it, M'am!" added Tim.
"I wish you a restful evening. What time do we meet?"
"Do we have a lot of things to do?" asked Jake.
"I fear so," replied Cynthia.
"How about 9:30?"
"Brilliant! You are free until then. Good bye, Jake... May I call you Jake and Tim? It seems quite natural..."
"Of course you can, Cynthia!" chirped Tim.
"Good-bye, Tim; good-bye, Jake. Take care of each other!"
Walking back to the hotel, Tim asked, "How many dollars do £36,000 pounds make?"
Jake looked at the day's rate on the internet with his iPhone and calculated.
"Hold on, Tim! According to the current exchange rate, £36,000 make in American money, $49,832.50!! We're rich, man! Filthy rich!"
Tim didn't look like he wanted to celebrate. Once back in the hotel room, they collapsed on their gigantic bed and cuddled up together.
"Jake?"
"What?" mumbled Jake.
"I don't want that money to change us. I want us to stay the way we are. I don't know why I'm saying that, but I had to say it..."
Jake remained silent. His mind was whirling. Then he uttered, "I'm glad you said that, Tim. You're right. We have to grow wiser and not just richer. What you said at lunch was pure wisdom. We create our life together. We'd be stupid to do like everybody else does and only 'buy' our lives."
Tim kissed him, then yawned.
"Are you hungry, Tim?"
"Not much..."
"Let's call room service and have a snack brought up. We'll nibble some and then try not to get lost in that gigantic bed."
"Good thinking, Brother! I love you too much!"
"Impossible..."
Indeed, they finished the work in two days, soon enough to enjoy visiting London with Harold, a charming young guide who drove them around in a Vauxhall Astra sedan. On the other hand, there were no available seats for a show.
Harold suggested, "If you'd like a smashing night out, I'd be glad to take you to a really hot gay club."
Tim immediately spoke up, "Thank you Harold but we have, as you say, a smashing night out every time we go to bed, so we'll simply enjoy a leisurely dinner and a few drinks at the bar of the hotel."
"As you like."
For the rest of the tour, Harold was a perfect gentleman, polite, distant, and very efficient. When they returned to the hotel, they thanked Harold with a nice tip and left him at the door.
"Poor fellow. I bet he's going to go get 'smashed' tonight, just to calm his jealousy!" joked Jake as they took the lift.
"Do you think we're cruel, Jake?"
"Let me think about that."
Once they were in their room, Tim asked again, "Are we cruel, man?"
"Listen, Tim, I believe that we're responsible to keep our own flame burning. If that flame burns others, we cannot be held responsible. I'm sure our happiness can be an insult to those who didn't seize their chance to love and be loved, and turn that love into a work of art, like we did. Life can be cruel to those who, for a thousand different reasons, never learned how to love themselves. We're not cruel, Tim... at least, I hope not."
"Shit, Brother, I don't know how to handle a guy who wants to get in my britches -- or in yours for that matter."
"Just be yourself and speak your priorities. The problem might come up if the guy really turns you on..."
Tim sprawled out on the sofa, scratched his crotch, and after a moment of thought, said, "Jake, I'm not jealous... but..."
"But what?"
"But to be honest, I don't think anybody can turn me on like you do... HOWEVER... if I see that someone turns YOU on, I don't know who'll get whipped first, you or him."
"And if it's a her?"
"Ha! Damn good question!"
Tim thought a bit more and then replied, "Do you want me to hard-rock honest?"
"I want you to be yourself, Tim."
"Well, if you get turned on by a girl, then I'll only beat the hell out of YOU!"
"And you say you're not jealous... bullshit!"
"Listen to me, Jake! I hope you realize that what we're talking about it is totally stupid, because all those 'ifs' are about things that'll never happen. I'm sorry if got all that crap going in the first place."
"I think we're just learning, Brother!"
After their snack, they packed, bathed, and thoroughly enjoyed another 'smashing' night all over that big, soft bed. The next morning, the doorman hailed them a taxi for Waterloo station. Arriving in Southampton Central, here was a shuttle bus over to the Queen Mary 2. When the ship came into sight, both Tim and Jake gasped.
"That's thing's humongous!" exclaimed Tim.
"And it's going to take us to New York? I am downright amazed," replied Jake.
"Me too!"
They found their way to the passenger check-in desk. There were hundreds of people milling around, bag handlers running everywhere. They were given a key each and instructions on how to find their cabin.
"And gentlemen, if you get lost, just ask any of our uniformed stewards on each level to help you. Bon voyage."
They followed the map and finally found their deck steward. The young gentleman called a uniformed teen over and introduced him.
"William is your cabin boy, gentlemen. He is here to serve you, keep your cabin, and satisfy any other need that might occur."
Tim didn't know how to greet him, so he nodded, smiled and followed William and Jake down the long corridor to their cabin. Their bags were already there. They admired the fresh bouquet of roses on the coffee table. William opened the doors giving onto their private little balcony and briefed them on the safety instructions, the use of the home entertainment unit, the shower and other toilet facilities, etc. He was extremely affable, soft spoken, looking often at Jake and Tim with a reserved, slightly sly smile. Before he left, he asked, "Do you prefer your breakfast in the cabin or out?"
"Out!" immediately replied Tim.
William bade them a pleasant crossing, bowed and gently closed the door behind him as he left.
"I get nervous around all those people waiting on us, Jake. That William guy gives me the creeps, slinking around with that phony smile all over his face."
"Are you getting jealous, Tim?"
"Go to hell!" laughed Tim, pushing Jake on the bed.
The departure was majestic with the horn howling as they eased away from the quay. They got lost looking for their dining room. All the other passengers looked old, but during the following days they got used to the luxury of the liner, the pool, the fitness room, the library, everything! Six days later at dawn, they eased into the port of Manhattan. The sight was glorious. They were shuttled to Penn Station where they took the Amtrak Regional to Richmond. Merce and Edith were waiting for them as they got off the train at 6:30 the same evening.
Back at Merce's home they were bubbling over about everything they had experienced.
Merce commented, "A lot has happened to you two in only a week and a half. Are you any much wiser?"
Tim looked at Jake and they both nodded.
Jake then replied, "I think so, Dad. All I can say now is that I'll be the happiest man on earth to get back to the cabin tomorrow."
"The second happiest!" exclaimed Tim, grabbing Jake by the shoulder.
Edith took Merce's hand and looked at him. He smiled and nodded. Edith then said, "I hope you all are going to be even happier in two weeks from now, at our wedding reception."
All four grabbed each other in one gigantic hug.
After things had calmed down a little, Merce inquired, "So boys, what would you like for us to do for dinner?"
Jake looked at Tim and replied, "Dad, I hope you all don't mind, but Tim and I have been dreaming of Southern hot barbecue, hush puppies, and cole slaw, with sweet ice tea!"
The seasons came and went. Jake and Tim kept their promise to go on living lives in love. 'Two of a Kind' began to sell well both in North America as well as in the UK. Cynthia said that they were negotiating with an internet television production company to create a series based on the book. She warned them that they'll probably be flying over the Atlantic often!
As for the money, they decided to use it, taking their time, to set up a little country bookstore and study the possibility of publishing other writers' manuscripts themselves. That was Tim's idea, and it's going to be his job.
The virus hit Virginia, along with the rest of the world. Jake and Tim felt secure in their woods. Biden's election was also a great relief. Jake is now working on his second book and Tim found an apprenticeship in a bookstore in Charlottesville.
So there you go!
Many claim that happiness never makes a good story. Maybe that's true... maybe not. As far as Jake and Tim go, there's nothing more to say. Time is always on the side of lovers who never worry about the story of their lives. They simply dare the joy of creating it, come what may, and usually what comes is incredibly wonderful.
Marin Giustinian