We're in This Together Chapter 4

We're in This Together

This story may occasionally include explicit depictions of sexual acts between consenting adult males.  If you are underage or it is illegal to view this for any reason, consider yourself warned.  If you find this material offensive, please leave.

This story is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to people, living or dead, is entire a coincidence. As the author, I keep all rights to this story, and it cannot be reproduced or published without explicit consent from me.  This work is copyright © 2017 by Steven Wells.

I love to hear any feedback you have, be it positive or negative.  Send me an email with any comments or questions at MaWriterBoy@yahoo.com.

This is a sequel to my original story on Nifty.org, Sam and Chris. I have tried to make this a standalone story. I look forward to hearing from you.-

Previously

"What would you, Sam, like to see the outcome of this investigation be?" Chief Harris asked.

"Child support and a monthly payment at the very minimum," I replied.

"Mr. Robart?" Chief Harris asked.

"The recording will unlikely be permitted in open court because no one had a warrant," Frank explained. "I can't imagine an attorney not objecting if it were a trial. However, Mrs. Broderick heard the entire conversation. She couldn't testify against her husband, but she could testify against Seth. The mere threat of jail time would put the DA in a good position to bargain for a much higher settlement with reduced sentence."

"The Broderick family has the financial resources to provide a good cash settlement," Chief Harris added. "I'll to speak with the woman and the DA."

"Thank you, Chief Harris," I said.

"I'll keep you posted about the progress," Chief Harris continued. "In the meantime, Sam, welcome home. Mr. Robart, I hope you and your husband enjoy your new home."

"Thank you, Chief Harris," Frank replied.

We stood, shook hands, and Frank and I left Chief Harris's office.

As Frank and I walked back to my car, we talked. "How do you feel about your first official duty in your new hometown?"

"Confused, amazed, and grateful," Frank replied. "Daniel and I give thanks almost every day to you and Chris. Our lives would be so much more out of sync if it weren't for you two."

"We didn't do anything," I replied. "The two of you made your lives what they are now. Dinner at seven."

Chapter 4: Getting Started

"I'm sorry I had to change our appointment yesterday," I said to Greg. "Life is never as planned around here."

"I'm just pleased you took the time to speak with me," Greg explained.

"When I first talked to your brother, I thought you were two classes behind me, but I realized you were in my class. You were in the chorus," I explained.

"Yes," Greg replied. "Blended into the tenor section. I didn't draw a lot of attention to myself. My father didn't even know I loved singing. He thought I was a total wipeout as a kid."

"I don't believe you were a wipeout, Greg... You went to the School of the Art Institute of Chicago," I said as I picked up Greg's résumé. "Impressive. Did you enjoy living in Chicago?"

"I spent the best four years of my life in Chicago," Greg replied. "I loved the interaction of people, of cultures, of forms of expression. The diversity of the city and of SAIC drew out creativity I never knew I had. I found the areas of new media art and animation to be especially interesting. I practically lived in the animation lab my senior year."

"Interesting," I said as my mind began running before I knew what direction I should be going. "Do you have a portfolio of work you've done?"

"It's on the alumni website," Greg replied. "Why?"

"Can you show me some of your work?" I asked. "One of your favorite projects for example."

"I could show you my senior project," Greg replied. He seemed to get more exuberant as we talked more about his art.

As he fired up his laptop, he explained the goal of the product.

"Each pair of students created an art piece which told the story of a particular subject," Greg began. "The finished product needed to feature at least one library video clip, one original video clip, one animation sequence, and a collection of ten photographs. Our project title, "The Life of a Lonely Street," included about ten archived video clips along with some still photographs. Here it is."

I watched the video. I put my feet on the desk top and leaned back in my office chair. I took a deep breath.

"You created an amazing video, Greg," I said. "Absolutely amazing. Would you mind if I brought in three associates to watch this?"

"Not at all," Greg replied.

I pushed a speed dial button on my phone.

"Glen," I said quietly. "Could you find AJ and Max and come to my office? I want to show the three of you something."

"Greg," I began the introductions once my three cohorts arrived. "From left to right: Glen Allan, AJ Kahn, and Max Steinberg. Gentlemen, this is Greg Gardner. He graduated from the School of the Institute of Art Chicago.

Greetings ensued.

"Have a seat. I want you to see his senior project a partner and he created," I explained. "Greg."

Greg started the video over. As we watched the video, I kept my eyes on Glen, AJ, and Max.

"Holy shit," Glen exclaimed after the video ended. "Amazing video, Greg. And, Sam, I hope you are thinking about the project for the human rights group."

"I am," I replied. "AJ? Max?"

"As you've often said to us, `Get it done, Sam,'" AJ said.

"Absolutely," Max added.

"Go make yourselves useful, Buzzers," I said to the band of three. "Greg and I have some items of business to discuss."

I turned to Greg once the others left. "Who was your partner, Greg?"

"One of my best friends, Enrique Santander," Greg replied. He seemed to get sad. "He and I met our freshman year in college. We were roommates the last three. Why?"

"Just curious," I replied.

~~~~~

"Good morning, Clarise," I said as I slipped through the front door. "We have guests today."

Clarise peered over her glasses.

"Shall I make them visitor badges or employee badges?" Clarise asked.

"Visitor," I replied. "We can make employee badges later if we decide to put them on the payroll."

"Let me see if I can remember their names," Clarise began. "Lincoln, Roosevelt, Simon, Winthrop, and Wallaby."

"Perfect!" I exclaimed. "I'll introduce them to the others."

Herding the dogs through the office took time. They stopped at every Buzzer's workspace and received pats on the head and rubs behind their ears. Some Buzzers received licks on the face in return.

The dogs and I settled into my office for the day. Lincoln and Roosevelt chose the sofa as their home away from home. Simon sat near the open door of my office. Winthrop and Wallaby found their way under my desk.

My phone rang just as I settled into my desk to review the new projects we had received.

"This is Sam," I said into the phone.

"Sam, this is Yolonda," Yolonda said. "Good news for you, Sam. You own a three-bedroom house as soon as you sign the closing papers."

"Terrific!" I said. "When can I sign the forms?"

"The executor of the estate said he could come to your office for the closing once you have the check ready," Yolonda explained.

"This afternoon after 3 pm would work for me," I said.

"I'll let him know," Yolanda replied. "When do you plan on moving the people in?"

"We haven't decided, why?" I asked.

"My son's community action group needs a community service project," Yolanda explained. "They thought you might need help sprucing up the landscaping around the house, and they thought helping someone start a new life would qualify as community service."

"It would definitely work," I replied. "Tom and Harrison will take Sheila and Ronny, the mother and son, through the house tonight. We'll decide how much work we need to do. I'd at least like to have the inside painted. The former owners recently updated the floors, kitchen, and bathrooms. I'll have our architect for our house make suggestions."

"Terrific!" Yolanda responded. "Thank you for the opportunity to work with you again, Sam. You always seem to make my job easier."

"Next time I'll wear you down more," I said as we ended our call.

I saw Simon stir and take his position between my desk and my door.

All my employees crowded into my office.

"I hope you aren't planning a strike or something!" I said to the group.

"No, in fact," Clarise began to explain why they gathered in my office. "We've heard how gracious and caring Tom and Harrison have been to the Shelia and Ronny and what you are doing to help her financially. The rest of us would like to contribute something, too. Furniture for some of the rooms, clothing for the mother and child, or some other necessity. We all could be in her position with a puff of wind."

"We don't really want to do this just this one time, either" Sawyer added. "We'd like to continue this somehow."

"And we don't want it to be your money, Sam," Glen continued. "We want it to be ours."

"Can't I contribute my share?" I asked.

"Sure, boss," AJ replied. "Just don't try to outspend us!"

"I'll try to restrain myself," I added. "And I must say, I'm very proud of you. You've only been involved in this community a few months."

"It's contagious, Sam," Max explained. "If the community adopts us without question, then we must adopt the community and help those who need help."

"And what will you call our little group?" I asked.

"The Buzzers Family Foundation!" Harrison added.

Simon yawned.

~~~~~

I walked through the back door from our garage into the house. I spotted Chris sitting at the kitchen island. The dogs raced to find the little ones. I sat next to Chris who hadn't said anything yet.

"Hi, sweetie," I said as I kissed Chris. "Something wrong?"

He shook his head no.

"Chris," I said quietly. "Please tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing is wrong, Sam," Chris said. "I sat here thinking about our lives. It's amazing. I never pictured any of this scenario happening a year ago. But I love our lives, Sam. It's perfect."

"You don't miss a career in music?" I asked.

"Nope," Chris replied. "I love working with the kids."

"Then, what is bothering you?" I asked.

Chris solemnly turned to me before he spoke, "I couldn't help myself, Sam. I felt this beacon pulling me further and further down a path I knew I shouldn't be on. I saw so many obstacles in my way. Finally, the path ended in front of this large brick building with white columns. It's huge open wooden doors beckoned me inside..."

"Chris, cut the shit," I finally said. "What the fuck is it you shouldn't have done, but you did?"

"I bought another bank," Chris replied.

I stayed calm. I collected my thoughts before I spoke, "Please explain to me the reason you bought another fucking bank?"

"It was for sale," Chris replied. "It needed a new owner; otherwise, it would close. I couldn't let the people down. If the bank were to close, it would be like we all lost a loved one...especially for the employees who would be out of a job... Besides, it was a steal... Ahem. Let me rephrase the last statement. It was cheap as banks go."

"Did you ever consider our family now owns two banks in a town with four banks?" I asked calmly.

"Three out of four," Chris corrected me. "Don't forget the one your great grandfather started."

"Oh! Shit!" I replied. "I forgot about my great grandfather's community spirit! You realize, Chris, the family could get in trouble for owning all of the banks in town."

"I won't own it," Chris added.

"Why won't you own it?" I asked. "You bought the fucking bank, so of course you own it!"

"I'm giving it away," Chris explained. "I'm giving it to the employees to own and run. I've arranged for them to finance it through the bank."

"Is what you've done legal?" I asked.

"According to Mr. Blackwater at my grandfather's firm, it's very legal," Chris continued. "Banks and businesses do it all the time. It even has a name."

"What's the name?" I asked.

"I forgot," Chris replied with a smile crossing his face.

My phone began to ring.

"Saved by the bell!" I exclaimed before I answered my phone. "This is Sam."

"Mr. Williamson," an unrecognizable voice began. "I'm Enrique Santander. You left me a voice mail. Is this a good time for you to talk?"

"Of course, Enrique!" I enthused. "Please call me Sam and not Mr. Williamson. I wanted to talk to you about your work with Greg Gardner. I understand you and he worked together for your senior project."

"Yes, Sir," Enrique replied. "Why do you ask?"

"Let me explain," I said as I moved out of the kitchen and into a quieter spot. "I interviewed Greg Gardner for a position a few days ago, and I am impressed by his talent. Which means, I'm impressed with your talent. I am making Greg an offer tomorrow to become my company's first Video Media producer. Some of our clients requested we produce videos for them. One is the Human Rights Campaign. There are four others who are close to signing contracts. They are all organizations with prominent names in the LGBTQ community."

"You know I'm gay, right?" Enrique asked.

"I didn't know," I replied. "My husband and I have developed a tolerance for all kinds of people. Gay. Straight. Bisexual. Transgendered. Men. Women. Christian. Jewish. Muslim. Buddhist. Hindu. I believe you get the picture."

"Yes, Sir," Enrique replied. "I see the picture clearly now."

"I have assembled a very eclectic staff," I continued. "I hired every one of them because of their talent and not their sexuality. Let me pose a question to you, Enrique. Would you entertain taking a job at BuzzZone?"

"Yes," Enrique replied. "Greg and I decided during our senior year in college we'd always say `yes' and then reevaluate the situation after we fully understood it. So, yes, I'd be very willing to entertain taking a job at BuzzZone."

"Great!" I continued. "Tomorrow, I'll have Clarise check on transportation to get you to and from your home as well as accommodations while you're here. Check your schedule and let her know when you would be free to meet with me and the other staff at BuzzZone and spend a little time in our fair town to help you decide if you want to live here. I'll have Clarise call you tomorrow so she can make arrangements for you. Any questions, Enrique?"

"No, Sir," Enrique replied. "I'm in shock, but I don't have questions at the moment."

"I'm looking forward to talking with you, Enrique," I said. "You will hear from Clarise tomorrow. Unless you have any other questions, I'll let you go."

"No, Sir," Enrique replied. "I'm looking forward to speaking with Clarise tomorrow."

"Have a good evening, Enrique," I said.

"You, too, Sir," Enrique replied as we both ended the call.

I found Chris in the kitchen. He seemed to be studying his lesson plans.

"This job with BuzzZone suddenly makes me feel old!" I exclaimed as I sat beside Chris.

"Why?" Chris asked.

"Too many people have decided they needed to call me Sir," I replied. "Sir! Can you believe it? I'm not even a year out of college, and people started to call me Sir. Enrique—the guy who was Greg Gardner's senior project partner—graduated at the same time I did. And he just called me Sir! Jeez, Chris. What am I supposed to do?"

"Wear a t-shirt with `Don't Call Me Sir!' printed on the front," Chris suggested.

"It's a thought," I replied.

"Everyone calls me, `Mr. Williamson,'" Chris added. "I know what you're going through. Old age seems to be just around the corner, Sam. We'll soon have sagging bodies and wrinkly skin. People will point fingers at us. Our kids will want to hide behind bushes, too embarrassed to be seen with their fathers. We're doomed, Sam."

"Are you certain you didn't go to acting school instead of music?" I asked. "You've become my drama queen!"

"Humph!" Chris added to show his dislike of my new nickname for him.

I moved behind him and put my arm around him with my hands over Chris's chest. I found his prominent nipples through his tight t-shirt and began to massage them.

"Don't start something you can't finish, Sam," Chris warned. "We have little eyes as security cameras around here. We'd be exposed. I'd be fired. You'd dissolve your company in disgrace. We'd be homeless."

"We have a bedroom with a door, Chris," I replied.

"Oh! Yea," Chris whispered back as I continued to work my hands on his chest. "We haven't used the door or the lock in such a long time I've forgotten."

"Yesterday morning, Chris," I added. "Remember?"

"I could never forget yesterday morning, Sam," Chris replied as he leaned his back on my chest. "Maybe we should try the door and lock just to make certain it works."

"You're on, big guy!" I added as we both dashed up the stairs. We looked into the twins' room and found them fast asleep with Winthrop and Wallaby at the foot of their beds. Donny also slept soundly with Simon keeping watch. Lincoln and Roosevelt rested on the foot of our bed. I glared at them. They instinctively left so we could close and lock the door.

~~~~~

"Hello, Clarise," I said as I stepped through the door of the office. Five dogs followed. "Any news I should know about?"

"Everything is quiet so far, Sam," Clarise replied. "You seem to have a lilt in your voice and a bounce to your step this morning!"

"Thank you, Clarise," I replied. "It's amazing what a good night's sleep can do for one's mood and energy level!"

"I suspect it's more than a good night's sleep, Mr. Williamson," Clarise added. "Will your furry friends require visitor badges?"

"They have their visitor passes we used during their last visit," I replied.

"Perfect," Clarise added. "I'll let you know when Mr. Gardner arrives, Mr. Williamson."

"Did you get my e-mail about Enrique Santander's travel plans?" I asked.

"Of course," Clarise replied. "I'm researching our options. I'll let you know what I find."

"Thank you, Mrs. Wallace-Chung," I replied as I headed toward my office. I heard her chuckle as I left.

After I did my circle tour of the office with the dogs, I settled into my office to review new projects. One caught my eye. An organization helping HIV positive kids find parents. In St. Louis, Missouri. Two hours west of where I sat.

"Shit!" I replied after I read the request for proposal. I grabbed the information about the adoption organization and headed toward Sawyer's desk. Simon followed me. The other four continued their nap.

Sawyer concentrated on his laptop screen. I sat in one of his guest chairs.

"Hello, Simon," Sawyer said as he turned his attention to me. "What brings you out to associate with the masses with security, Sam?"

I handed the proposal to Sawyer, and he began to read it. I watched Sawyer's face. His face turned from happy to sad to, I believe, angry.

"I suspect, Sam, you didn't bring this proposal to me because you wanted help with it," Sawyer began. "I also know you too well to believe you would just be interested in providing a cost estimate for the website. What do you have in mind?"

"I don't know yet," I replied. "Could you do some reconnaissance on the organization? Find out who leads the organization, who funds the organization, and how many kids they serve. Learn as much as you can about the organization. Let's me know when you've finished. We'll talk after you've completed your investigation."

"Got it, boss man," Sawyer replied. "I'll dig out as much dirt as possible!"

"I hired a dirt digger!" I said as I left Sawyer to ponder his next move.

"Keep him out of trouble, Simon," Sawyer said to my companion.

I returned to my office and dove into my work until I heard Clarise knock on my door. "Mr. Williamson, Mr. Gardner is here to see you," Clarise said as she ushered Greg through the door.

"Thank you, Mrs. Wallace-Chung," I said as Clarise glared at me.

"My pleasure, Sir," Clarise said.

"Have a seat, Greg," I said as we shook hands. Greg settled into one chair and I on the other in front of my desk. Lincoln and Roosevelt settled at Greg's feet. "I hope you don't mind the dogs."

"I love dogs," Greg replied.

"Good! I want to talk with you here before we join Glen, Max, and AJ in the conference room. You and I have a few formalities to work out. Do you have any questions about the company?"

"I studied your website and the material you gave me," Greg began. "I also Googled you and looked up your Facebook page, Mr. Williamson. I'm impressed. You seemed to have accomplished a lot while you were at school. So, no, I don't have any questions now."

"You'll find I'm not so impressive," I explained. "I would like to make you a job offer as Digital Media Producer for the company. You'll create animation, special effects, visual images and other media for games, Web sites, movies, videos, commercials or music on the computer."

"You've just described my dream job," Greg responded.

"Excellent," I continued. "Here's our offer. We want to start you at seventy-thousand a year with ninety-day performance reviews for the first year. Clarise will explain the details of our benefit package, including four weeks of vacation each year, usual sick days, profit sharing, medical insurance, and, potentially, a seat on our Partner Team. Questions?"

"You're offering me a real job?" Greg asked.

"I believe we have real jobs here instead of fake jobs, yes," I replied.

"What's a Partner Team?" Greg asked.

"The Partner Team consists of a group of key staff members who have a guiding influence on the company," I explained. "Members of the Partner Team also have a very real stake in the success of the company—an ownership position depending on the seniority, length of service, and leadership achievements."

"How much does an ownership stake cost?" Greg asked.

"An excellent work record, quality leadership talent, and the ability to take on responsibility for the company's work product," I explained. "We don't expect a monetary commitment."

"Aren't you essentially giving the company away?" Greg again asked.

"On the contrary," I continued. "I anticipate the company will move forward in a growth path unattainable by a single owner. Besides, I'm not in this business to become a millionaire."

"You already are," Greg added with a smile. "Who would I work under?"

"Initially you'd be working with the three guys you met in our first interview, Glen, Max, and AJ," I explained. "You'll work autonomously after you get your feet wet. We're considering another person for an equivalent position. You'd share responsibility for the work product quality and overall operation of the Digital Media group. We're working on arrangements for his preliminary interview. You know him, I believe. Enrique Santander."

"You're shitting me?" Greg exclaimed. "Oops. Sorry."

"Don't worry," I replied. "Do you believe you could work with him?"

"Yes," Greg replied. "You should know he and I had a relationship in college."

"Had?" I asked.

"He's in upstate New York, and I'm in downstate Illinois," Greg explained. "The distance is not conducive for maintaining a relationship."

"The distance won't be a factor if he accepts a position at BuzzZone, will it?" I asked

"No," Greg replied. "I... I don't know what to say."

"Say, `Thank you, Sam!'" I suggested.

"Thank you, Sam," Greg replied.

"Let's go meet your team, and, then, I'm taking the five of us to lunch," I suggested. "After lunch, you can meet with Clarise and fill out forms."

"Terrific!" Greg responded. "I'm looking forward to working with everyone here. I never thought I could find a job like this in my hometown."

"You have a much-needed talent, Greg," I explained. "You fill a gap in our staff. We're fortunate to have found you. Let's meet the troops and bring you into the family of Buzzers."

As Greg and I stepped out of my office, five dogs followed. The first group I introduced Greg to included Jake Jat and Melinda Wong.

"I'd like to introduce our newest Buzzer," I began. "Greg, I'd like you to meet Jake Jat and Melinda Wong. Both moved from Chicago when we relocated. Jake, Melinda, this is Greg Gardner. Greg is the first member of our Digital Media Group. He'll be our lead Digital Media Producer."

"Great to meet you, Greg," Melinda said as she offered her hand to shake with Greg. "AJ, Max, and Glen spoke highly of the work you showed them. I hope to have a chance to work with you on a project soon."

"Nice to meet you, Greg," Jake said as I noticed he and Greg locked eyes. They began to shake hands. "We're all very excited to have you on our team."

Jake and Greg continued to shake hands, and they continued to focus on one another.

"Sorry," Jake said as he released Greg's hand. "I sometimes get carried away. I'm not certain where my mind wonders sometimes."

I also saw Jake quickly size up Greg's physique.

"The mind is a funny thing," Melinda added. "Some people become addicted to the minds of other people. It's usually obvious when two people are attracted to one another, don't you think, Sam?"

"I believe you are absolutely correct, Melinda," I added. "We need to move on. We have more Buzzers to meet."

We made the rest of the circuit around the office, and Greg and I joined AJ, Max, and Glen in the conference room. I left Greg with them to discuss an upcoming project. Melinda intercepted me before I reached my office door.

"Greg seems like a nice person," Melinda said. I knew she had more to say by the look in her eyes. "Jake seemed to think our newest Buzzer looked appealing, don't you think, Sam?"

"You noticed?" I asked.

"Obvious," Melinda replied with a smile. "And the other person you're interested in hiring is his boyfriend? You might have a problem on your hands, Sam."

Melinda slinked away as I returned to my office. As I sat in my chair behind the desk, the dogs took their place in front of my desk. Sitting with their tails sweeping the floor. They fixed their eyes on me.

"Ah!" I said as I finally realized their attention on me. "I missed treat time, didn't I, boys?"

I picked up the bag of treats and began to lob one to each of the dogs. None of them missed their target. The dogs dispersed as my phone rang.

"This is Sam," I said into the phone.

"Sam," Frank said. "Great news! I just spoke to the DA. The Bradshaw boys have accepted a deal. No trial. Fifteen years for both Seth and Earl. Five hundred-thousand-dollar trust set up in the boy's name."

"You do excellent work, Frank," I replied.

"The DA did all the work," Frank added. "He's a no-nonsense attorney who goes after the jugular. I've decided I always want to be on his side."

"Good idea," I said. "However, I hear he's running for Attorney General of the State of Illinois. Maybe you'd like to consider his post."

"No way, Sam," Frank replied. "I want my life to be a small-town attorney who has time to do things with the kids—when we finally have them."

"I understand," I said. "How long will it take to set up the trust?"

"It will be legally established within three weeks," Frank said. "I talked to Meredith, the President of the bank. She'll push the paperwork through the courts as quickly as she can."

"How is Mrs. Broderick's divorce coming along?" I asked.

"How did you know she filed for divorce?" Frank asked.

"Justin McCloud works for me, Frank," I replied. "We do talk occasionally."

"She threatened to testify at court unless Earl Broderick agreed to the terms of the divorce," Frank explained. "We should finalize the paperwork in the next few weeks. Why?"

"I heard she did exceedingly well," I added.

"You know I can't talk about the case, Sam," Frank said.

"I know," I continued. "Earl and Seth, as I understand it, will be penniless and homeless when they are released in fifteen years."

"No comment," Frank said quietly.

"How would you and Daniel like to join us for dinner this weekend?" I asked. "We have lots to discuss."

"I'll see if Daniel has an opening in his schedule this weekend," Frank added. "The boy needs a job, Sam. He's driving me nuts with projects around the house."

"I'm not a miracle worker, Frank," I said. "Drinks at 6. Dinner at 7."

"Thanks, Sam," Frank said as we both disconnected our call. It was time to collect the gang for our lunch break.

"Be good, boys," I said to the dogs. "I'll be gone for about one hour. I expect this room will still be in one piece. Understand?"

All five sat in front of me with their tails sweeping the floor.

`I'm in trouble,' I said to myself as the five dogs huddled in the middle of the room.

As I walked to the conference room, I saw Jake sitting quietly staring at his computer screen. "Would you like to join us for lunch, Jake? Max, AJ, Glen, and I are taking Greg to lunch."

"Really?" Jake exclaimed. "Sure!"

"Let's grab the others," I said as Jake eagerly joined me.

We settled at a table at Mel's across the street from our office. Mel had taken our orders, and we began to talk.

"So, Greg," AJ began. "Where did you live in Chicago?"

"Lakeview," Greg replied. "Addison and Halsted. And, no, I did not live at the police station."

"My old neighborhood!" AJ added. "I lived on Roscoe between Broadway and Halsted. Great neighborhood... Well, it was a great neighborhood. The new comers made a splash. Buying three flats and turning them into single family homes. Restaurants became trendy, overpriced caverns filled with boisterous patrons."

"Yoshi's in Lakeview became our home away from home when we were in Chicago," I added. "I can't fathom paying a fortune for a meal in a place you can't hear the person sitting across the table."

"Progress," Jake said. "I'm pleased I left when I did. I heard from a friend who lived in my building. The rent doubled. Someone bought the building, updated the lobby, and raised the rent. Progress."

"Isn't raising the rent like the new owners did illegal?" Glen asked.

"No," Jake added. "The new owner gave everyone a choice. They could pay the rent increase, or they could move out. Most of the tenants chose to leave. Not to change the subject, Greg, but I noticed on the Center on Halsted's website the video you did for the teen program. Fantastic job!"

"Thanks," Greg replied sheepishly. "I know the guy who's the support volunteer for the teen program. He roped me into doing it. But I loved working with the teenagers and a few of the volunteers for the video. It turned out to be a fun project."

"Could you send a link to me, Greg," I asked.

"Sure," Greg replied.

"How would you like to do something for HomeFront in Chicago?" I asked

"The people who help homeless LGBTQ teens?" Greg asked.

"Yup," I replied. "I know the guy who runs the organization."

"Oh! Jeez," Glen said as he covered his mouth to keep from laughing.

"What's so funny, Glen?" Max asked.

Glen looked at me before he replied, and I returned my beady-eyed look.

"Nothing," Glen added. "The way you said it just made me laugh."

"Why?" Max asked. "I think it performs a much needed service."

"You need to come clean, Sammie," Glen said to me. "May I?"

"You will, no matter what I say," I replied.

"It turns out boss man here single-handedly launched the HomeFront venture in his freshman year at UIUC. He read an article about a homeless gay teenager who was murdered in Lincoln Park," Glen began. "I'll make this as short as possible. He started HomeFront. The Mayor's Office held a press conference with Sammie here as the focus. CNN broadcast the press conference in its entirety."

"Where did you get your community service awareness, Sam?" AJ asked.

"His whole family has a history of helping people," Mel said as she and her assistant delivered our food to the table. "It must be genetics."

"How do you know Sam, Melinda?" Max asked.

"We've know each other since childbirth, I think," Mel said with a smile. "This is a small town—it was a small town—and everyone knows everyone. We were in school together. Let me know if you want to hear some stories about your boss. I'll be happy to enlighten you about his deviant personality."

"Thanks, Mel," I said as she slipped my sandwich in front of me.

"It rubs off," Jake added. "His entire staff at BuzzZone has gotten the community service bug, thanks to Sam."

"Doesn't surprise me," Mel added. "Have a terrific lunch, guys!"

"Now, down to business..." I began.

~~~~~

Chris and I sat at the kitchen island while the kids and dogs scampered about in the family room.

"Have you finished the paper work for the bank?" I asked.

"We're close," Chris said as my phone began to ring.

I saw Harrison's name on the screen. "Hello, Harrison. What's up?"

"Hello, Sammy," Harrison said into the phone. "Tom and I took Shelia and Ronny out to lunch today. She's still a little shell shocked by the house. Shelia and Ronny have looked in thrift stores in the area for bedroom furniture for Ronny. Ronny hasn't lived in a place where he had a separate bedroom, and she wants it to be nice. We didn't tell her anything about the Buzzers offer to help. But we are concerned she might buy something with her limited money before she finds out."

"I see the problem," I responded. "I believe the contractor has the house almost completely painted on the inside. I'll have an answer tomorrow about when he'll finish the house. Round up a few Buzzers and visit SMT Furniture. Asked for Drew, and tell him I told you to visit with him. Explain your position with Sheila and Ronny. He'll want to help."

"Is there anyone in town you don't know, Sam?" Harrison asked.

"Yes," I replied. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Thanks, boss!" Harrison added as we ended the conversation.

"Maybe Shelia would like to become a bank president," Chris said as I put my phone back on the kitchen island. "She would have a lot of empathy for low-income clients based on her early experience as a single mother."

"You still aren't forgiven, Chris," I said. "It may take years before you're let out of the house again on your own."

~~~~~

"What have you been up to, Daniel?" I asked as we settled into seat in the living room with drinks in hand.

"I've been terrorizing Frank at his office while he gets it ready for business," Daniel explained. "I've become his reluctant IT staff member. And he's a bitch to work for."

"I've been quite pleasant and forgiving," Frank added. "I never knew computer equipment and the software to go on it took up so much time to set up. If Daniel tells me I need to buy another item, he'll be toast at Frank Robart, Attorney at Law. It's frightening setting up a law practice. I never thought ordering toilet paper would be a function of the owner of the practice!"

"Have you decided what you want to be when you grow up?" I asked Daniel.

"I'm weighting my options," Daniel replied. "It's a toss up between IT or being a professional house husband."

"I don't believe I can handle you if you were at home all day," Frank interjected.

"I'm a pain in the ass, right, sweetie?" Daniel continued without waiting for an answer. "After spending four years in college studying computer science, I decided I'm not cut out to be in the IT field. So, I'm thinking about other options. One possibility I've unearthed is a history teacher at the college. Another choice would be to go to law school. The third and final possibility is to start painting again."

"Painting again?" I asked.

"Yes, painting," Daniel began. "I used to have a small studio in the attic of my parents' home. The sunlight filled the room in the afternoon. I spent hours there."

"What do you paint?" Chris asked.

"Things in my head," Daniel replied. "Mostly people doing things they weren't supposed to be doing, but I do portraits, landscapes, and city scenes. I thought about painting countryside scenes since we're living sort of in the country."

"He's good, too," Frank added. "He's working on two for my office."

"I could also run the farm we're thinking of buying," Daniel said.

"Farm?" I asked.

"We have our sights on a two-hundred-acre farm," Frank explained. "The house is shit, but livable. We want to build a house. Our dream house."

"The home sits on a hill," Daniel continued. "It's about five miles south of town."

"The Ritter farm?" I asked.

"How did you know?" Frank asked.

"Frank," I said. "This is the Midwest... flat, windswept farms. The Ritter farm is the only one with a house on a hill. It's bigger than two-hundred acres though."

"The owners offered the farm as two plots," Frank explained. "The one we want to buy with the house, and a three-hundred-acre plot adjacent to it. If we knew what we were doing, we would start an organic farm. But, sadly, what we know about farming would fit in a shot glass."

"You could buy the whole farm and have someone run it," Chris suggested.

"My dad probably knows someone who might be interested," I added. "Or, talk to Philip Harris-LeBlanc. He runs the organic farm my family used to own."

"Besides, we can't afford three-hundred additional acres," Daniel continued.

"I know someone who owns a bank," I replied as I stole a glance at Chris.

The adult conversation ended when three boys and five dogs descended from the second floor. Mayhem ensued.

To be continued.

~~~~~

I would enjoy hearing your comments about this story. You can write to me at MaWriterBoy@yahoo.com.

Visit my website: www.stevenwellswriter.com

My Author Page at Amazon.com is https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B01NBUIQA6

If I have time, I will get back into the twitter game. Twitter: @stevenwellsma1

The following lists links to all my stories on Nifty.org:

Please also see:

John's Journey Forward found in the Beginnings section

Together Forever found in the Beginnings Section (Sequel to John's Journey Forward)

Sam and Chris in the College section.

We're in This Together found in the Relationships section. (Sequel to Sam and Chris)

Jeffery Comes Home  in the Beginnings section.

Taking a Stand in the College section. (Sequel to Jeffery Comes Home)

Other Stories by the Author

CAUTION!

Please note, the following stories are not for everyone because there are several scenes depicting Master/slave and BDSM relationships. So, if you are not interested in this type of literature, please, please do not read this story.

Life With Tim in the Authoritarian section

Steven's Evolution in the Authoritarian section. (Sequel to Life with Tim)

Please if you can, contribute and keep NIFTY GOING strong as ever. They need our support so stories like this and so many others can continue to be publish for many hours of reading enjoyment. Follow this link to donate to Nifty.org.