Date: Mon, 19 Apr 2021 22:26:50 +0000 (UTC) From: JH Subject: Cards in the Deck - Adam and Ben 30D This is a work of fiction - names and places are elements of fiction. Please donate to Nifty.org at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html. Your donation will allow stories such as this to be published. The Nifty Archivist works endless on publishing our works and puts up with a lot from us. His deligence and attention are much appreciated! Cards in the Deck - Adam and Ben 30D The Finale... Christmas came and went. The Brevard Christmas Party was a well attended event that was discussed at length by many people throughout the holiday. Quinn and I did not spend Christmas at Brevard House. Instead, we traveled to Naples, Florida to spend the time with my parents. They have traveled enough lately. Quinn's mother came with us and appeared to have a better time than we did. She was the life of the party. Choosing to bypass tradition and ceremony this year, anything was possible. We had a lovely dinner on Christmas Eve at a posh restaurant frequented by my parents. We did attend Mass at midnight. We didn't go for a big gift giving circus as we had all acquired quite a lot this past year, and let go of a lot. Then, Quinn and I made another round through Dallas to put finishing touches on the new house. We were back at Brevard for New Year's where I entertained my little supper club of friends from Birmingham. Oh they thought they were clever sporting tweed jackets for New Year's Eve, prancing around the house like lords of the manor. It was a fun time. Cook did not prepare this dinner so I had it catered. It was a lively evening and, although I had never put significant emphasis on these relationships, I found them to be quite sincere in my departing Alabama for Texas. I perhaps underestimated them. Quinn was able to perform the Brevard tour for Alabama Public Television. I didn't want to be heavily involved as the tour was really based on the house, the architecture, the style, and lifestyle of the day. I was too emotional about the place but they did interview me and we did discuss living there, rules, protocols, and manners of a time gone by. It was well done. I will always be glad to support Public Television. I confirmed after the holidays that Brandon Sutton took the role of historian seriously and had met with a big name author in Washington, DC to collaborate on how to start a family history. I also learned, at the Brevard Foundation Board Meeting, that Ryan had convinced his grandfather and my father to allow him to join the Brevard Board as a minor adjunct non-voting member so that he could learn the workings of a foundation. He was already concerned about chairing a dual endowment in case he did attend UVA as he intended. This rather unsettled me and I told Quinn that things with Ryan may have changed quite a lot in a short time. "Ben, you presume you have some possession over him when no one has had any possession over him for a long time. There may be things he's going to do that he might not tell you about, first. You have to let him run or he'll cut you off. Hear me, babe?" he asked. He could be right, my Quinn, although quiet spoken at times, had a good rationale on things. I calmed down and congratulated Ryan on his achievement via text. He said he wanted to get it done without anyone helping him do it, just like he did when he paid back his grandfather for the money he gave him to trade stocks with. He would be an independent despite us all. Our last single form of entertaining at the house included having our mayor Kevin Raynord and his wife, along with the Haigs over for the last Friday night supper before the packers and movers would come on the next Monday. Cook did prepare this dinner and it was magnificent. Of course, she would want to please the local politicians. I had rather planned an adult evening; however, Julia asked if she could bring Jack. She said he had somewhat pleaded to be able to come. He wanted to see us again before we left. I told her I could not possibly say no. Jack, the baseball stud. The evening moved slowly, with a relaxed pace. There were no political strategies to unfold this evening. While we were gathered in the south parlor and the crowd was plastered to Quinn hearing about the setup of the new house, Jack gave me a nudge and asked if he could talk to me privately. I led him out and over to the Billiard's Room and ushered him to the sofa. "What's on your mind, Jack?" I asked, already suspicious of what he wanted to discuss. "The party was great Ben. Had to be one of the best ever had in this town. And you know something else, I really liked Ryan. He was very cool and so funny," he added. "Liked?" I asked. "I mean, well, like. Yes, I like him. And, you remember that talk we had back in the fall? I remembered what you said and you were right. Being gay did not change my opinion of him. The way he just put it there showed me he wasn't scared. Like him or leave him. He's different from me but I do like him. But, something very unusual happened that night. Did he tell you?" Jack asked. "Yes he did. It had a certain impact on him and we wanted to be sure he had it "straight" in his head, no pun intended," I said. Jack laughed. "Very funny, Ben. Yeah, I guess I have been dealing with it too. I mean, I don't think he was trying to hit on me or try to change me but I feel guilty leading him on if that's what I did," he said. "I don't think you led him on, Jack. He did think you were a superb guy and I could have told him that before he met you but I let him form his own opinion. I have been working with him to give people unlike himself a chance, much like I did with you. Have you been sweating about this all these weeks since the party?" I asked. "Yes sir. And he has said nothing about it which I'm glad for but we do text often. I just don't want that one thing to hurt what seems like a nice friendship and it's all I can think about. How do I get it sorted out?" "Jack, in the ambience of an elaborate event, a big party, when you are off the radar, meeting new people, feeling elegant, things happen. I told you many people have weird experiences in their life, many of which do not get told so you don't know. You had one such experience. Ryan. who is becoming an affectionate guy, wanted to feel that with you because he liked you so much. But remember, in asking you for that, he was also trusting you which is a big statement. He was trusting you not to judge him or make fun of him. He wanted to feel that magic spark with a great guy and move on, which I believe he has. There may be some girl you will experience that with at some point. It's not a proclamation of love. You get where I'm going?" I asked. "I do. That makes perfect sense. He thought I was really that great?" he asked, flattered. "I'm surprised. I'm not all that great," he said laughing. "Don't underestimate yourself, Jack. You're thoughtful and confident and sincere. When you show your acceptance of other people, they are going to flock to you like flies. Enjoy it, don't abuse it," I told him. "Oh damn, that is the exact same thing Ryan said. Y'all talk just alike," he said laughing at the notion. "You ok, Jack?" I asked. He nodded yes. "I'm planning on coming back for the first football game at Brevard Stadium and I would like to bring Ryan with me. If you can keep up the exchange between now and then, you may have the makings for a special, long term friendship. Maybe one of your first outside of your school environment." "Yep, I think that will work out, Ben. Thanks for letting me talk about it. I couldn't tell my mom or anyone at school. I don't think anyone would have understood it," he said comfortably as we headed back to the south parlor in preparation for dinner. Quinn and I were piled up in the bed Saturday morning. It was hard to get moving. It was cold outside and our energy was running low these days. So I asked him, :Quinn, by my count, there are 21 rooms in this house. Sounds outrageous, I know. But, if there was one place in the house you could make love to me for the last time, where would it be?" "You first," he responded. He was such a dog. He never fell for the surprise attack anymore. "Well," I said, "I'm thinking my old room. As my shrine gets torn down next week, I would like to have one more memory of my youth and energy and experience that with the guy I love. Does that sound silly?" "Nah," he said. "My choice is just as silly. I would choose this room, right where we are now, just like we have done so many times," he responded. "Why?" I asked. "It's the first room I have ever shared with anyone and you won't believe how special that is to me. I mean this was your room, it was your's and Ian's room, then it was your's and Adam's room. I am the one rounding out it's residents," he said with some flair. "But, seriously, Ben, I have never had a happy day in my life compared to the one when I became part of your life and this room. He paused, then laughed. "Damn that is some sappy shit, isn't it? I mean they can't get shit that good on The Bachelor!" and we both cracked up laughing. "Quinn, it is sappy. I give you that. But the meaning is duly noted. I am so glad you see it all that way and I'm very flattered. I guess I would not have thought that sharing a room with a lover had such value but I see it now. Thank you for enlightening me," and I scooted over closer to him. I could feel heat coming from his naked torso. "Hey," I said, in a whisper, and placing my hand on his chest, "You got me here. Why don't you put all that sappy into action," and I leaned over his head and kissed him. He kissed me back. And in no short order, he rolled me over onto my back and climbed on top of me. "Ben, are you sure you're ready right this moment?" he asked between kisses. He cupped the back of my head and whispered into my ear, "I want this a lot and it may be, well, it may be eventful," and he lifted his head and looked into my eyes. "I'm certainly ready now, even if I wasn't before you said that!" and with that, an energetic passion ignited between us. His entry into me was smooth and swift. Then, there was the pause, the stay, in which we collected our senses. Then there was the assault on my face and lips. Then there were his pulsating hips and ass muscles pushing and pulling himself in and out. Then he rolled me over onto my belly, and lifted my bubble butt up slightly and took me again. This was deep, in more ways than one. Then we rolled onto our sides and he lifted my upper leg and coupled with me, his arms around me and before his powerful orgasm could take hold of us, he had me on my back again with my legs wrapped around his waist. It was apparent this was an orgasm that had been saved for several days. His grunts and breaths were organic and I felt his cum fill me up. "Goddam,. Quinn. I will be feeling that for the rest of the day," I said, laying beside him. We both had to catch our breaths. My lover was a man, to be sure. It was so glad he was not timid with me, he didn't feel the need to ask permission, he didn't tiptoe. He was confident in the place to which he belonged. Then there was the final scene with Midred Mason, our cook, and Kent's mother. She had worked in the house since she and her then husband, Kent Mason, Sr. came to work for us. He drove and managed the property and butlered when Grandfather needed him. Mildred, known as Cook, all the years I was growing up did some cleaning and cooked. It was a necessity for a house like this to have staff. Our's was probably a small staff compared to our peers up north. It was efficient, however. Then, Mr. Mason passed with a heart attack leaving Cook and her son, Kent Jr. to manage which they did. Upon my grandfather's passing, he put two items in his will. Mrs. Mason would continue to draw her salary until her passing. She chose to continue cooking as she didn't want to work anywhere else. Kent Jr. claimed a $1 million trust which he very little of. He lived on the estate in a cottage on the back side of the property which he fixed up by hand. He did odd jobs but lived off interest and mostly did his own thing. He had accepted a price for the cottage as part of the estate sale since he had improved it as a dwelling and had purchased a property on the lake to fix up and make his own. I went into the kitchen to make a sandwich for lunch. Cook was there messing pots and pans she was taking with her. I grabbed some bread and ham and she snapped that she didn't want me cluttering up the kitchen. I snapped back that the kitchen was already a mess and I didn't see a sandwich making that any worse. And then, the fight I had hoped to have with her was launched, and by her! The audacity! "You know, Benjamin, I never enjoyed working for anyone more than your mother. She was a graceful lady; appreciated good work." I leaned against the counter and took a bite of my sandwich. "I supposed that is the lead to something?" I asked. "The house was never the same after they left. And I don't mind telling you, now that my work here is done, you didn't bring much to it. Not much at all. Just you and your boy's." she said, turning to a small box of sauce pans. "My boys? Not sure I understand. You want to break it down for me, Mildred? Spell it out," I asked. "It's been a lot for me to witness here, Benjamin Brevard, knowing how everyone turned a blind eye to your activities." She then proceeds to tell me how I seduced Ian, a kid from the streets with no better understanding of things. And the fact we were brothers was just disgusting to her. I snapped at her, "We were not brothers, and he wasn't adopted then either. And any further disrespect of him would turn this encounter into something very unpleasant!" She said she was not intending to insult him, he was a good boy. She continued with Adam and how I brought in the young boy, with a bad father, and led him to my way of doing things. Made his father so desperate he lashed out at me and ended up in jail. She said he was a sweet boy and was glad he made his getaway. Now, I had an upstanding african-american young man, who would undoubtedly learn what it means to reside with a white man. While she was speaking calmly, I was finding it hard to keep my temper in check. My skin got hot. My mouth was dry. I reached into the fridge and took a bottle of Perrier. She then finished off with the fact that it all started with her boy! If I hadn't filled him with crazy ideas, not minding the rules of the day, he would have gotten married, settled down, and brought her a house full of grandkids. It was entirely my fault her family would die out due to the confusion and lack of direction I had caused in her son. She had the order of things correct. But that was all she had correct. The fact that she had lived with such a distorted perspective for so many years was sad. While I wanted her to feel some level of regret for these remarks, I couldn't help but see what an old lady she had become. I guess when she was in action, she looked younger and energetic. Without a purpose, she looked dull. Plain. But I gave her the response that was deserved. It was Kent who had seduced me as I hadn't given him any thought except to say he was one fine looking boy. Muscular, lean, handsome face. He was brilliant to me. I told her about the adventure that started back there in the woods, how he touched me on the face, ran his fingers in my hair, then taught me how to hang like boys hang, so to speak and I liked it. I loved it. Then Ian came along and I had no particular draw to him when he first got here but he started shaping up and became quite amazing; looks, attitude and interests. He became a contributor. I had just learned about love at that time and I fell hard for him. And despite my family adopting him, which was just a protocol to add him to the will and secure his future with us, we remained lovers and I would not apologize for it. Adam was not sought after. I had no intentions of settling with anyone after Ian but he appeared on the scene at a hamburger joint on a Friday night. I just wanted to give him a job. I did not foresee 4 years with him in my life. And given his success in college and in his new job, wasn't sure he was left in desperation or facing any hardship, as she presumed. He was thriving due to an improved foundation. And his father? What an insulting rash that was. He was far less concerned with how his son was spending his time with me than he was making sure I didn't report him for the years of ongoing abuse he subjected young Adam to. Quinn? He sought me out, with the help of Kent Jr, himself. He made his presence known to me every way he could and gave me tremendous support at a time I was about to fall apart. "If you think I'm saying I'm perfect or innocent, I am not, Mildred. I have as many flaws as everyone else and yes, some of these relationships were outside the norm. I give you that. But if I had turned all these people away, left them without whatever advantages I could share, become a lonely old miser, living in this big old house, no good would have come to any of us. Given that we are merely just cards in the deck, perhaps I was just the Joker at the end of it all but I would not erase or undo a single person who has graced my life or my home." I took a swig of my water and looked her face-on. "Now let's clear up the one thing you still have some control over. Kent Jr does not live much of a life, not the one that he was entitled to, and that's because of you! He is still afraid of you. He is afraid of hurting you, and he has never wanted to disappoint you. But you boxed him in with your preaching and spouting off and he thinks it's better to not live a life than to live one you disapprove of. He should be settled down - but he will never do it as long as you are here. You best make peace with him and kick him out of the nest in case something happens to you. That way he won't be left dangling with nothing when you're gone!" I said in a shouting tone. "You may be right about these boys, you might not have sought them out. But you sought out Kent and that's the only one that matters to me!" she sneered. "As Margo would say," I replied with equal snear, "there's nothing worse than the person who clearly is holding on to the wrong end of the stick," And she knew exactly what I was talking about, having been around Margo for so long. Having missed the whole point, I just said, "You need to talk to him about this. I have admitted things out of school, be it the truth." and I leaned in close to her and said in a quiet, stinging voice, "he taught me how to get it done and it was the best anyone ever offered me. Now tell him to live his life and settle down with THE PERSON he thinks is right and you will not give him any static." "Listen," she said. "This is all a bunch..." "DO IT!" I shouted. "Just do it so he can be happy. As our time here is a conclusion, I will expect you to maintain the family's dignity and discretion. Got it? And if you need help getting this shit out of the kitchen, just let me know. I will take care of it personally!" and I left the kitchen. I had really wanted to sneer a bit more, really hand it to her, but it wouldn't have done much good. I had already faced and made peace with all those demons. What could I have done differently? According to my young cousin Ryan Brevard, I was trapped in a low option community and have done probably the best I could do. And packing was underway. Big trucks came and went. There were almost four full moving trucks hauling things off to the warehouse to prepare for auction. There were 16 shipments Quinn and I assisted with to get things shipped, mailed, and delivered to various places, including the Dallas house. Some were shipments of items becoming the possession of the family members - furniture, art, a piano, a rug. Paintings were delivered to the Brevard Foundation. And just before it all went into a box, on a quiet night in the middle of January, Quinn texted me from upstairs and said "Come up." I went into the master bedroom and he was not there. "Cold," he texted. I left the room and turned down the hall. "Warmer," came the next text. Then I opened the door to my old bedroom. Everything was still in place just for another day. He was lying there on bed shirtless, with silk pajama bottoms. If you don't think this looked like something out of a magazine, I can assure you. The dark green painted walls, with light brown wood trim, the thick neutral carpet centered in the room with hints of an oak floor underneath. My sleigh bed with the plaid comforter, neatly folded back under Quinn. "I'm picturing a young Benjamin Brevard," he said in a sexy voice. "A playa. A stud, with good looks, some money, and a perSPECtive," he said smiling. "Oh you are? And what is this stud doing, in this picture?" I asked. "Oh he is about to drop his love all over another boy. A young, impressionable boy, who wants to be loved by this playa. Who wants to turn him so that the playa is all his," and he laid back on the bed and turned his head away from me. "Oh he's good," I thought. I took off my sweater and climbed on to the side of the bed. "You want to get hooks into me? You think you got what it takes to calm the beast?" I asked getting into his little theatre. "Oh baby, I know I'm right for you. If only I could just show you. Just give you a taste. I know you love it," he said putting his finger to his lip, and giving a childish grin. I leaned down and kissed him. I took his wet, slippery tongue into my mouth and gave a hard suck. "Damn baby, I think you got the taste. Is it what you were hoping for?" he asked. "Oh God yes, honey. It was delish. Now let me taste the rest of you,' and with that I tongued his body all the way down to his cock. I tasted that too. I tasted that precious area between his legs and under his cock. I tasted his ass. I licked all the way up his back to the back of his head and then tasted his earlobe. His body humped to stay connected to mine. His moans kept me coming. He rolled me onto my back and took me into his mouth. It was soft and warm and his lips wrapped around me with sealed in freshness. I rolled Quinn over and with only moonlight shining into the room, I entered him from behind. "Oh baby, you are convincing me," I said. "I don't know though. There is a piece of ass downtown I wanted to try. I have to think about it," I whispered in his ear. "Fuck no," he said. "This is all you need. It's the best you gon' get," and he lifted his booty upwards toward me. I took him with taps. Tap tap tap, was the preferred action, hitting that spot over and over in fast succession. Then I rolled him over onto his back. "Not sure, baby, still not sure. Is there anything else you can think of to convince me?" and he lifted his legs and gave me full exposure to his ass. "Just taste it one more time, just a taste," he said as I leaned forward and slipped my tongue into his chute. "Fuck, you right hon. That is some good stuff!" I declared. Then I entered him again and there was more tapping. More flexing. Our arms held each other tighter, we kissed deeper until I felt what I knew was to come. He was creaming up on the inside. I felt the butter sathing my cock. He flexed back and with his cock in my hand, he let loose his orgasm. Hell, it was his cum and it shot a long streak up to his neck. He shook and vibrated. He clinched down on me and I was there with him. "Pull out, Baby, I want to taste something too!" he screamed. I pulled out and stood up and jacked and just before I unleashed my love all over him, he took me in his mouth and got the taste he was looking for, all of it, every drop. Fantasy achieved. "Hey babe," I said to him. I'm just a young guy, don't know what I'm doing half the time. But I know this. You definitely got your hooks in me. I'm yours!" and we both screamed with laughter. I added, "Damn Quinn, that was the hottest thing ever. Wow, you were amazing. You planned that, didn't you?" "Not for long. I know how you like a little theatre sometimes. You were great too, babe," and he leaned over and kissed my cheek. "We need to think of a way to christen the new house," I told him. "Well there is a snag," he said. "Our boy Ryan is traveling with us from here to there and we won't be alone," he reminded me. "Oh yeah," I said. "Well, I mean its sex. Maybe there is..." "Ben! This is our thing. This is our time together and it's special whether it's parody or not!" he said defiantly. "Yes, I know. You're right," "Listen, we can slip him some benadryl that night in his drink and knock him out,: said Quinn. We both laughed.. "That is wrong on so many levels," I chided him. "I will give him the message. He will understand and we will think of something. I'm thrilled he's coming along. It will keep me from getting bored with your ass!" I said in a mocking tone. "This ass?" he said pointing to his butt cheeks. "This ass you just fucked like three ways from Sunday? Oh I don't think you will be bored of this ass," he said. "Love you, babe," was all I could say. It would usually calm his sass down a bit. We slept in my old room for the last time. I always forget how comfy that bed is. And that fateful day came. I'm sorry for the fact this part is hard to get out. It would really take an author to describe how emotions ran on that day. Ryan was with us as we toured the big empty house for the last time. The floors creaked where I didn't know they creaked. There was an echo which we played around with for a few minutes. We admired the wintry view from my rooftop perch. And finally, we were back on the ground floor where Jane Blevins, our estate agent, gave me a tilt of her head signaling she needed to see me in the kitchen. I went in with her and she pointed at the side door. I looked out and saw Kent out helping Pete load the Rolls onto the rollback truck. He looked at me with a glare I could not pull away from. I stepped out and asked how they were coming along. "We doing good, Mr. Ben. It's almost ready," Pete, the mechanic, said as he locked the straps over the tires. "Making sure my girl is safe and ready. I'm gonna miss her," you know. His father Peter Sr, and then Pete had serviced this car for us for over 40 years. Seemed everyone was getting a piece of emotion today. "Not the only that's gonna be missed," Kent said quietly. I stepped toward him and took him by the hand and led him to the little courtyard behind the garage. The old wrought iron table was still there. I leaned against it, pulling Kent close to me. "Kent, I really don't know what to say except I have been dreading this moment for weeks," I told him in a quiet voice. "I got a lot of memories floating in my head," he said. "Some of `em would not be good for public telling," he said laughing. His eyes were filling. Mine were too. "Kent, if I could pay you for everything you have done for me, I would be broke. Starting back to us as teenagers and you were so fine and so gentle, and you opened my eyes and my heart. I will never forget what an incredible lover you were. I don't know what I would have done without you after Ian passed. And even recently, you took care of my shit when I wasn't doing a great job for myself. You have been my rock. Solid, baby. Who will ever have my back the way you have?" I whispered. Then he broke out. First time I ever saw him cry, not even when his father passed. "I have wondered how many things I could have done differently, how many opportunities I passed up to be with you. I was so hard headed. So proud. Could've been my best days if I'd given in. In the end, the best I could do is prep Quinn and get him ready and I did a fucking good job, Ben. He's all in and you're both very lucky," he told me, as I wiped his wet face. "Whether I deserved it or not, Kenney, I have always been lucky. The lucky card. We will be back to see that lake house in a polished state, right?" changing the tone. "Oh you better. It's going to be nice. Getting a boat in March," he admitted with some excitement. I pulled him close to give him one more kiss, the kiss that would engulf all of our previous kisses. I sucked in a bit of his breath to ensure he was part of me as I departed and we melted into an embrace. I whispered in his ear, "I talked to your mother. You need to live it and stop chasing it, Kent. Find you somebody. She won't give you any guff. I promise you," I said, pulling away from him and holding him at an arm's length. "I know. She told me about y'all's stand down," was all he said. We went back around to the car as Pete was ready to roll out. I let go of Kent's hand and walked back into the kitchen to find Quinn and Ryan talking to Jane. "Had to be done?" she asked me. I nodded, unable to speak. She pointed back to the front. "It's time for this part as well. You three have a safe trip. You have been the most wonderful clients I have ever worked with," she said as she ushered us back to the front door. I thanked Jane Belvins and we exited through the front door and stood out on the north portico. We watched as the rollback slowly drifted down the drive with the large burgundy colored Rolls Royce securely fastened to it's back, making its way into town where it would be covered, then roll on to Dallas, Texas. At the same moment, a newer model SUV, a dark green Range Rover pulled into the drive. It had to wait for the roll back to exit before entering through the gates. Then, it proceeded slowly up the drive. The three of us stood in line, almost at attention, only looking forward. There was nothing to look backwards for. Quinn and me with Ryan in between. Quinn spoke quietly and chided me not to scare them. Ryan giggled. The Range Rover pulled up to the portico and stopped. A handsome guy jumped out of the driver's side and spoke over the hood, "You must be Benjamin Brevard!" he said smiling. "And you must be Nathan Babcock!" I exclaimed in return. His wife and kids exited the vehicle. "I would like you to meet my wife, Judith," he said taking her by the arm, who was ushering three kids toward us. "These are my teen boys, Corbin and Nate. Corbin is 16 and Nate just turned 14." Judith spoke up and said and the pretty one is our daughter, Emily. She's 10," Judith said. The older boy, Corbin, spoke up and shouted, "I always thought we said Nate was the pretty one!" and cracked up at his own joke. "Shut up, Corbin!" he belted and gave the older brother a punch in the arm. "We are pleased to meet you all," I said. "Handsome bunch!" I said. "Allow me to introduce my partner, Quinn Collins, and my..." "Your son?," Nathan suggested. "This is my cousin's son, Ryan Brevard," I corrected. He cleared his throat and said, "My goodness, it's uncanny!" "We get that a lot," said Ryan. "I don't see it," he said, laughing at his own joke. Quinn chuckled too. "Well, Benjamin..." "Ben, please," I said. "Ben, I was rather expecting to have the estate agent here to meet us. Did something happen?" he asked. "No sir, Nathan. You'll understand when I tell you this is an extraordinary moment for me. My family built this house a little more than 80 years ago and it's been my home for 42 years. Handing over the keys to this giant could not be done by an estate agent with the valor and respect she deserves. I hope you understand," I said softly. "I most certainly do, Ben. I understand more than you know." His wife was smiling, knowing they had landed in the land of sentiment and emotion. "You see, Ben, this is not my first big house,"he said closing in on us. We were forming a bunch on the portico. Nathan continued, "I grew up in a house not dissimilar to this one in Baltimore, Maryland. And, Ben, if you think it's hard walking away from your family home, you should imagine what it feels like to be watching as a wrecking ball crashes down through the middle of it!" he exclaimed with rivaled emotion. "I will always regret that my mother was alive to see that since she, herself, had grown up in that house. The look on her face will never leave me," he said. "They had to make room for the new condos and the row houses," he said calming himself. I gasped, almost choking on my own tongue. Quinn whipped his hand over his mouth in shock. "I am sorry, Nathan. I must beg your forgiveness for being so self absorbed today. I am sorry you endured such a horrible experience. I couldn't imagine if I tried," I said in a comforting tone. "You can be assured, sir, this home will see no such end as long as I am around. You see, I have 4 brothers and sisters and my children have 10, almost 11 cousins. My mother is coming to live with us this summer and this will be our homestead going forward. I have purchased the Minely Pharmaceuticals company next town over and this house was God's gift to us. It has many grand days ahead of it. I hope that is to your liking," he said with a light tone.. "It is. I couldn't ask for better. And, thank you, Nathan, this is why I wanted a person to person transfer. I leave comforted. Seems you and I might have been friends in some life," I added. "You a private school boy?" he asked. "St Luke's Episcopal Academy," I said proudly. "Yourself?" I asked. "I should have known. Truth, honor, respect," he said in a low stoic tone "I was a Windsor Academy boy" he said with pride. "Ah, Strong Windsor's Ahead!" I exclaimed. "Rhode Island." "Yep, and I'm impressed. We are an informed group, we private schoolers. These guys are public school,: he said, pointing to his three kids "They love it and do well," he added. "Is it a cool house?" asked Nate. "Oh yes," I said in a low serious tone. I could see that excited him. "You have a pool table, a panic room hidden behind bookshelves, and you have an enormous back year with a tennis court all fixed up..." "And," said Ryan, "you have a rooftop. You will love it!" he added. The boy's eyes widened. "Ben, if you have occasion to come back through here, give us a head's up. Stop in. Seriously," Nathan offered. "Thank you, Nathan. Just might. We will be back for the kickoff game at the newly named Brevard Stadium in the fall," "I figured you would. You made a lot of press the last few months. Big shoes, or big house to fill, I'd say," said Nathan. I looked at his wife, she was very pretty, probably from an old family, herself, and asked, "Are you ready to be lady of the manor?" I asked with some humor. "Certainly, Ben. I have ideas but I'm not sure you would approve. The pictures you sent did her justice and have given me inspiration," she responded. "It's not my job to approve, only to respect," I responded. "In the study, are a list of names and numbers of local folks who will not only want to be of service to you, but will want to be your friends. Give them a call. There are good people here. And be sure to take a stroll through Evelyn Park. It's my great grandmother's." Nathan looked at his wife with raised eyebrows. I shook all their hands. "Please take care and enjoy. Brevard House will make you a good home," I suggested with what felt like my last breath. Jane Blevins came to the door and ushered the family inside and out of the cold. She gave me a final salute gesture as we all headed to the car. Quinn drove us away and down the drive. Ryan was in the back seat filming the drive away on his iPad while I was filming the same drive away in my memory. I felt like the 10 year old schoolboy being driven away for the first time to spend so many months away from home at his first boarding school. And the tears came. While I was a blatant wetspot of emotions, Quinn had a few sniffles. Ryan draped his arms around me from the back seat and held me tight. Our three day journey to Dallas, Texas would be filled with laughing, fussing, music, stories, two really nice hotels, and one, well, one not so appealing. Perhaps that will be an add on chapter if you all can convince me to tell it. Our arrival in Highland Park was not met with fanfare as we were strangers to the city. We exited the car, tired of being in it and entered through the front door into a well appointed, modest, one story ranch, with depth and foundation, and ready to be our new home. Quinn and his mother had placed most of our things. There were things we would have to add. Bedrooms, kitchen, and living room were mostly complete. The dining room was not. "I told you," Quinn said. "The finish line! I got `er done," he said seemingly proud of himself. Ryan rolled his eyes and quipped, "Patting your own back already?" "Don't start it, youngin," Quinn warned, waving a parental finger at Ryan who was laughing. . "Quinn, I'm sorry to convey this message to you, after all your hard work, focus, and dedication. But, this is not the finish line. So sorry to tell you," I said, keeping a straight face the best I could. He looked at me with a confused look. "I don't understand," he said with his excitement draining from his face. I stepped down into the sunken living room and stood by the french doors leading out to the pool, turned to Quinn and said, "You have brought us to the Starting Line baby! It's all new now!!" and with that he closed in on me, pulled me to him, and kissed me. "Damn girls! Never any tissues around when you need them," said Ryan, with no element of sentiment, but with a light chuckle. And with that, Quinn extended his arms straight out and announced, "Quiet, you little chicken. I'm a chicken hawk!" and lunged at Ryan and grabbed him into a headlock. They dragged each other to the ground and continued the assault on my new rug covering the parquet floor. I smiled looking at my two best men, effectively breaking in our new home. ***** So this marks the end to the Cards in the Deck series. While I only intended to write a short series about an older guy who meets up with and hooks up with a young guy in a surprise fashion, this story seemed to take on a life of its own. Characters became interesting. And you pushed me. Places took on real life. And you pushed me more. Complications had to arise, in a realistic fashion, and I tried to rise to the occasion. I began to really care about these characters! Your thoughts and encouragement have meant so much, especially when everyone is so busy. Like any good artist would desire, works on display are not enough. They need to be analyzed, discussed, questioned. I never understood until now how an author must live. Considering the next chapter long before it's written and deciding that which will be carried forward and that which will die out. Thinking, plotting, scheming, and allowing yourself to be totally absorbed by the characters and what they want to do. Living like, "What would Margo say to something like that?" It's been a fabulous experience. I'm preparing a teen series about an out boy who wants to be in love and falls for the boy who might not be able to reciprocate. There is also an idea about two boys who are thrust together by a mom and dad who marry. The third story will be about Erin Kincaid and Joe and how they got started. This may not be the end of the Brevard's, however. If there are any points in the history you would love to see documented, please let me know and I will try to tell it. Otherwise, there may be pop up stories here and there which will be noted as "A Brevard Story..." This cast is really hard to let go of, to say goodbye to. Again, your thoughts and suggestions are always welcome and I wish you all the very best. Thank you for traveling down this epic road with me.