Date: Thu, 30 May 2002 17:17:37 -0400 From: Stan Unknown Subject: Chapter 25 of Beating The Odds Chapter Twenty Five The new club proved to be a success. They met once in Dave's basement, but so many people showed up, they decided to hold it after school once a week in the auditorium and once for the gay members only at Dave's house. After only two weeks, five other gay boys had come out and joined the club. Getting everyone to Dave's house was a real problem. Josh and Tim were having to make two trips each for the meeting at Dave's and even with Dave helping after school to take boys home, it was getting to be a problem. But that problem was to be solved shortly, even if the reason was a tragic one. ****************** "Bruce. Ryan. Can you come down here for a moment?" their Dad yelled from downstairs. Both were doing their homework in their rooms, but neither could avoid hearing their father's deep voice booming up the stairs. Both got up and headed downstairs at almost the same time. "What's Dad doing home this early?" Ryan asked. "I have na no idea," Bruce said. Ryan stopped and put out his arm to also stop Bruce. "That's the first time in over a week I've heard you stutter at all. And that was just a small slip up. I'm really glad you've about got this beaten, big brother," he added, as he hugged Bruce to him. "Me too. Thanks, bro," Bruce said, as he enjoyed the hug. They broke it, smiled at each other, then ran downstairs. They found their parents sitting on the sofa in the den. Both had serious expressions on their faces. "What did we do?" Bruce asked. "Nothing at all. Sit down, OK?" their Dad answered. They both sat down and waited. They knew this wasn't going to be good news. "Your Uncle's plane crashed going back to Hilton Head last night. No one survived," their Dad said solemnly. "Oh no," Bruce said. "Shit!" Ryan exclaimed. "RYAN!" their mom yelled. Even during a family crises, she wasn't going to allow that kind of language in her house, and both boys knew it. "Sorry Mom. I was just shocked. I really liked Uncle Don," Ryan said. "That's all right. We all did," she answered. "Neither of you have anything important in the next two days at school, do you?" their father asked. "I don't have any tests, if that's what you mean?" Ryan answered. "Me either. But we do have a meeting of Gay Teens Unite before the football game on Friday," Bruce added. "Can you miss that and the football game? Your mother and I have already taken off work and we are driving to Hilton Head tomorrow morning. I've already made some of the arrangements over the phone, but there is still lots to do. The funeral will be Sunday afternoon, and then we will drive back afterwards. I really want us there as a family," he said as he stood up. Both boys could see that he was close to tears. Neither said a word. They looked at each other quickly. They didn't need words to communicate. They both rose as one and walked over and hugged him from each side. Their mother watched for a few seconds until Ryan said, "Mom, come on." She joined them in a family hug, and then they sat down to discuss what needed to be done. ****************** The next two days went by quickly. They had a six hour drive in the family Chevrolet Trailblazer SUV to get to Hilton Head. Both of their Dad's parents had passed away previously and Don was his only sibling, so they had to do all the arrangements. Their Uncle Don had never married. He was an entrepreneur that had made a fortune on two start up companies when the internet sales craze had hit the investment nation. He had been smart enough to sell while the stock price was high and had invested his money wisely. He had never been one to brag, and he had never told his brother's family about his wealth. He had always complained that his house and car payments took everything he made and more. He was on his way back home from a stockholder's meeting for another company he had started when he flew into a storm, one engine had been struck by lightening, and the plane had crashed landed. He had almost made a landing in a field when he ran out of room and he hit a tree head on. The funeral arrangements were the toughest on their Dad. Don had been his last living relative and he had never thought his younger brother would have passed on before him. They had all come back to the beach house on Friday afternoon after selecting everything for the funeral. They were all sitting outside on the deck looking out at the ocean when the phone rang. Their Dad got up to answer it. "Hello?" "Mr. Baxter? This is Fred Warner. I'm your brother's attorney. I'm really sorry about your brother." "Thanks, Mr. Warner. I appreciate it." "I know this isn't a good time, but we need to talk about Don's will. When would you like to meet?" Mr. Warner asked. "I don't know. I haven't even thought about his will. All of us are still in a state of shock." "I understand completely. I hate this part of my job. If it's easier on you and your family, I could drop by there," Mr. Warner continued. "Thanks. We know how to get to here, but we really aren't familiar with Hilton Head except for the main road that you drive onto the island." "That's not a problem. I don't have any other appointments for the day. Is it convenient for me to stop over now on my way home?" Mr. Warner asked. "Uh. I guess so. Do you just need to talk with me?" "No, I need to talk to the whole family if that's all right. Everyone is in his will," Mr. Warner answered. "I don't understand. I thought my brother was broke." Mr. Warner just laughed. "Not quite, Mr. Baxter. Let me explain when I get there, OK?" "Sure, that's fine with me. We'll be expecting you." "I'll be there in about 30 minutes. Goodbye," Mr. Warner said as he hung up. "Goodbye," he answered as he hung up the phone. He was puzzled. Real estate prices weren't very good right now, and he had been concerned that he might have to sell the beach house at a loss or have to pay the house note himself until it sold. His brother had always said his house was mortgaged out the ass. He was still shaking his head as he walked back out to the deck. "What's wrong, Bill?" his wife asked. "That was Don's attorney. He's coming over to talk to us about the will." "Dad, can Bruce and I go swimming?" Ryan asked. "We don't need to be here, do we?" "Actually, you do. He wants to talk to all of us. He said we're all in Don's will." "Really? Ok. Can we at least walk down on the beach until he comes?" Ryan asked. "Sure. He should be here in thirty minutes or so. Just make sure you are back here in twenty minutes so you can hear me when I call," their father answered. Bruce and Ryan got up and walked towards the stairs. "That's not a problem, Dad," Bruce said. "We could be back in Georgia and still hear you, I think." Ryan cracked up and their Dad made a threatening move towards them as they ran down the stairs. "Just stay close, OK boys?" "Sure Dad. We don't want you to have to scare all the sea gulls away," Ryan giggled, as he and Bruce walked away. "That wasn't very nice," Bill said, as he sat down next to their Mother. "You know Bruce was kidding. This has been really hard on them too, you know," she answered. "I know. It's really nice that Bruce has finally lost his stutter, isn't it? I kind of like him having the confidence to joke with us now," he answered. "Me too. He's like a totally different boy now. Or like he has started saying, a totally different man," she added, as she laughed. "Our boys are growing up. I can't believe Bruce will be in college next year. And Ryan in two more years." "Yeah. Maybe we can win the lottery and buy a house like this to live in once they are out of the house. And we finish paying off all the college loans. I don't think we'll ever have enough money otherwise," he joked. "You don't really think we might lose money selling this house, do you?" she asked. "I really have no idea. It totally depends on how long it takes to sell. I guess we'll have a better idea once we meet with Mr. Warner." ****************** "I wish we could go swimming. We won't have much time tomorrow before we have to be at the funeral home. And we won't know anybody there," Ryan said. "Well, maybe this won't take long. Dad said that Uncle Don didn't have a lot of money. He said he spent it faster than it came in," Bruce answered. "Yeah, I know. Maybe we can go swimming after he leaves. I'd at least like to get some sun before we go back home," Ryan said. "And I want to drive some on the way back. You drove over two hours." "I'm the oldest. Dad trusts my driving more than he does yours." "I'm the oldest, I'm the oldest," Ryan mocked his big brother, as he dodged out of his grasp. Bruce playfully ran after Ryan a few feet and they both laughed. "I can drive just as good as you can and you know it," Ryan said, once they had quit playing. "No you can't," Bruce answered. "You don't think I can do anything as good as you do. But I know lots more about cars than you do. You know you come to me to help you fix anything that goes wrong on your old Camaro," Ryan said. "Ok, you can fix cars better than I can. That doesn't mean you can drive as good as I can," Bruce answered. "Well, soon as they buy me a car, we'll see," Ryan bragged "What do you plan to do, drag race me?" Bruce asked. "Yeah. I'd blow you off the road. Then we'd know who is the best driver," Ryan answered. "That wouldn't prove anything. Drag racing is dangerous. I wouldn't do it," Bruce said. `We'll see if you will as soon as I finally get a car,' Ryan thought, smiling to himself. **************** They heard the car drive up and their Dad got up first. "Can you let him in while I call the boys?" "Sure," she answered. She walked to the front door as he walked down the stairs to the beach. Bruce and Ryan weren't far away as promised, and they came running when their father got their attention. All three walked up as Mr. Warner walked out to the deck. "You must be Don's brother," he said, shaking hands with their Dad. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Warner. This is Bruce, my oldest, and Ryan. Call me Bill." Mr. Warner shook hands with all of them and then sat down at the table. "You can all call me Fred. I'm really sorry for your loss," he started. "Thanks," Bill answered. "Don and I really hadn't had much time to spend together in the last few years but we were really close growing up." "I know the feeling. My brother and I are the same way. I guess you're curious about the will," Mr. Warner continued. "Honestly I am. I'm just concerned that we may not get enough when we sell this house to pay it off," Bill answered. Mr. Warner just stared at him for a couple of seconds. "You and your brother never discussed his financial state?" "Yeah, we did. We've spent a week with him here the last two summers. I never pushed him to find out anything, but when he would talk to me about it, he always said that he was barely making ends meet. He said the house note and his car notes took almost everything he made." "Uh, your brother wasn't quite telling you the truth, Mr. Baxter," Mr. Warner answered with a smile. "What do you mean?" "Look, can I level with you?" Mr. Warner asked. "Sure. Please do." "I really liked your brother. We played golf about twice a week together. We belonged to the same country club. Your brother was one of the cheapest people I've ever met," Mr. Warner said, laughing. "My brother? But he always had fancy cars and this house. That doesn't seem like he was cheap to me," Bill answered, starting to get a little mad. "I'm sorry if I offended you. I really didn't mean to. I'm talking about little things, really. We would always play five dollar Nassau. Are you a golfer, Mr. Baxter?" Mr. Warner asked. "I've played a little bit, but I was never was any good at it," Bill answered. "Five dollar Nassau is five dollars on the front side, five dollars on the back, and five dollars for the round. Two man teams. If you got more than two strokes behind on nine holes, you could make an additional bet for that nine. Does that make sense?" Mr. Warner asked. "Sure," Bill answered. He looked around and everyone, including his wife, shook their heads yes. "Are you trying to tell me my brother hustled golf?" Mr. Warner laughed heartily at that comment. "No, Mr. Baxter, just the opposite. I'm sure he lost more than he won. He never had the time to put into playing. He was always somewhere in a meeting. But if he won, he wanted his money right that instant. If you didn't have change, you had to go to the clubhouse and get change right then." "Oh, I see", Bill answered. "No, I don't think you do. Money wasn't the real reason. Winning was. Were you and your brother competitive growing up, Bill?" "Mr. Warner, there was never a more competitive person in the world than my brother. We used to have bloody one on one games in basketball," he answered, smiling. "And I was two years older than he was. But he would never admit I was better than he was in anything." "That never stopped, Bill. He hated the fact that we could all play more than he could and were a little better than he was. That was why the money was so important to him when he won." "Well, maybe he needed the money," Bill answered. "You really don't know if he could afford to lose that money or not." "Mr. Baxter, Bill, your bother never let any of us pay for anything on the golf course. Money wasn't important to him. The game was. Winning was. He was a great friend to all of us and all of us will really miss him," Mr. Warner continued. "I guess I'm confused. He always told be that this house and his cars took all of his money. Could he really afford to pay for everything on the golf course and lose money too?" Bill asked. "Don was very competitive. He loved to win. But he wasn't the type to flaunt his wealth in front of anyone. I guess not even if front of his bother and his family," Mr. Warner continued. "What do you mean? I'm kind of lost here," Bill said, looking around to his family. They all had looks of confusion on their faces. "Mr. Baxter, your brother was a millionaire. Several times over. Everything he owned was paid off. You and your family now own this house and everything that goes with it." To Be Continued E-mail responses to the stories, story suggestions or other 'constructive' comments or advice may be sent to: stan992001@hotmail.com. All e-mails will be answered. You can also visit the young gay guys support group I created after my "Matt and Mike" story at www.groups.yahoo.com/group/gbct or our web site at www.gayteensunite.org. There is a forum section there where you can enter comments about this story for everyone to see.