Date: Tue, 31 Dec 2002 16:35:35 EST
From: Draginacht@aol.com
Subject: David's Initiation: The Recovery 02

Disclaimer: The following is a work of fiction and any resemblance to real
people or events is purely coincidental.  The story contains graphic
descriptions of sex between men. Anyone who is forbidden by law to read such
material must stop now.  This story is being posted to the Nifty Archive
solely for the enjoyment of its readers.

*******

David's Initiation: The Recovery 02

*******

Dave arrived home too late to attend any of his Monday classes. He would have
to call some of his classmates, find out what went on in class and get any
notes he could. Dave was always several days ahead of the class work schedule
anyway, was carrying an `A' in all of his classes and had already completed
most extra credit projects so one cut was not going to make any difference.
His major challenge at this moment was to complete the semester without
falling apart.

Driving back from the airport, Dave stopped at the store and bought a chuck
roast for dinner. He placed the roast in a roasting pot, poured some wine
over it to let it marinate for a while, got on the phone to check on what
happened in class that day, then began studying for Tuesday's classes. After
about an hour he took a break, placed the roast in the oven, pealed some
potatoes and carrots and set them aside to go in the pot with the roast
later. Then he returned to his books knowing Mike would be home around 6:15
PM. Although Dave and Mike were actually living in an apartment, to them it
seemed like home where they felt safe and secure. At 5:30, Dave remembered to
add the potatoes and carrots to the roast then returned to his studies.

Right on schedule, at 6:15, Mike arrived from work. The minute he opened the
door he knew Dave was back because the delicious aroma of the pot roast
stimulated his nostrils. Mike went to his room, threw his coat on his bed
then walked into Dave's room. Standing behind Dave's left side, he placed
his right hand on top of Dave's left shoulder and squeezed gently.

"Welcome home." Mike said softly.

Dave put his pencil down, reached across his chest, placed his right hand on
top of Mike's hand and squeezed it. At the same time he turned his head to
the left and looked up at Mike. "Dinner's almost ready, hungry?"

"Yeah, what can I do?" Mike asked.

"If you'll set the table, I'll put the roast on the table," Dave said as he
stood up from his chair.

"I'll wash my hands first, then I'll be right there." Mike went to the
bathroom, washed his hands, then set the table. By then, Dave had the roast,
with the potatoes and carrots on the platter and they sat down to eat in
silence. About halfway through, Dave began to talk.

"I went to see Kate," Dave said out of nowhere like it was an announcement.
"And I came out to John."

"How'd that go?" Mike asked after pausing for a moment.

"Quite well, actually. He seemed to be okay with it." Dave placed another
bite of meat into his mouth and chewed for a few moments before he swallowed.
"You know, Mike, I must be awfully damned lucky! I've got you here to lean
on, Kate and John have been great about all this and Art is trying to help
too. If I didn't have all you guys I'd be in real deep shit. Thanks... thanks
a lot."

"That's what friends are for, Dave. You were there for me when I needed you,
now I'm gonna be here for you." Mike shoved a fork full of potato in his
mouth.

"There are only two people left that I'm gonna have to deal with, Mother and
Dad."

"Have you decided when you're gonna do that?"

"My original plan, the one Paul and I agreed to, was to tell them when I went
home at Christmas. Now I don't know what to do. I'll have to think about it.
What about your family? You had any thoughts about how to approach them?"
Dave said, diverting the conversation toward Mike. "You know, Thanksgiving is
coming up, do you have any plans?"

"Nah. I'd like to go home but I guess I'll stay here and work. The manager
asked me yesterday if I'd be interested in becoming a shift supervisor. I
told him `yes' so it might be a good idea to stay here. How about you?"

"I'm expected to be at Kate's. Mother and Dad will be there. Kate is too
close to delivering and her doctor doesn't want her to travel. Besides, I
don't think the airlines will let a woman that far along fly without a
doctor's permission." Dave took another bite of meat and chewed it then
swallowed. " Say, would you consider joining me, Kate has lots of room and
I'm sure she'd like to meet you. I'll be glad to ask," Dave added.

"Nah, I think I'd better stay here. But thanks, Dave; it's nice of you to
ask. Maybe I ought to call my youngest brother, Manuel. I don't know... maybe
Maria would be a better choice."

"Okay, but if you change your mind, the offer still stands." The two men
looked at each other and realized that their conversation and the meal were
over for the evening. Mike got up from the table, took his plate and eating
utensils to the sink and got ready to wash the dishes. Dave followed him and
did the same.

The next two and a half weeks were going to be hectic for Dave. He would be
having tests in almost all his classes and he still had some research to
complete for a couple of term papers. Then, after the Thanksgiving break all
his attention would be focused on the rush to the end of the semester with
term papers to finish and final exams to take.

Mike began his transition to shift supervisor and actually enjoyed the new
relationship with the kids who worked for him. All the `kids' were college
students who needed some extra cash to make ends meet and survive the
financial burdens of college.

Tuesday evening Dave's phone rang. "Hello?"

"Hi Dave, hope I'm not interrupting anything important," Art stated. Dave
recognized his voice.

"Hi Art. No, your timing is excellent; I need a break. What's up?"

"Just checking in, how you doing?" Art wasn't going to say anything about
Dave's trip to visit his sister; Dave didn't need to know he knew. Art had
also decided to launch background investigations on Dave and Mike, he didn't
want any more surprises. Dave would never know that either.

"I've been too busy with classes, tests, and term papers to think about much
of anything else. How have you been?"

"Everything is going smoothly here. Listen, I want to ask, do you have a
suit?"

"No," Dave chuckled. As a college student he didn't think he needed one. "I
don't have much in the way of business clothing."

"I suspected as much. Look! Do you know where the nearest Brooks Brothers
Clothing Store is?"

"Hmm... I think there's one in the mall, why?"

"I want to ask you to do me a favor. Get over there as soon as you can,
preferably this week, and see a salesman named Rubin. He'll fix you up with
the wardrobe you are going to need."

"What do you mean, the wardrobe I'm going to need?"

"Just trust me, Dave. It'll all make sense later. Can you do that?"

"Sure! I don't understand but I'll do it if you say so. Should I pay with my
American Express Card?"

"No, the charges will be forwarded to my office. Just let Rubin do his thing,
he's quite knowledgeable about these things." Then, changing the subject, "Do
you have plans for Thanksgiving?"

"Yes, I'll be going to my sister's house, the whole family will be there. In
fact, I was there just this past weekend. Kate, she's my sister, and John, my
brother-in-law, were a big help. I'm feeling a lot better since I got back."

"Good! I'm glad to hear that. Now I'd better let you get back to your books,
I know how demanding college can be. Take care and we'll talk again. And
please call me some time, will you?"

"Sure, Art. And thanks for everything." Dave hung up the phone and sat
thinking. `Wonder why I need an expensive wardrobe? What's Art got up his
sleeve? Oh well..." Dave went to the bathroom, then to the kitchen for a Coke
and returned to his studies.

Three days a week Mike coaxed Dave out of bed at 6:00 AM to get back into
their running routine. Dave could tell that it was helping. Like so many
years before, when he was 14 and struggling with his sexuality, running
seemed to help clear his mind and adjust his attitude.

Thursday after class Dave made his way to the mall, found the Brooks Brothers
store, and asked for Rubin. The salesman was good. He picked out a dark gray
wool worsted suit with a very small pinstripe that fit Dave's perfectly
shaped body to a T and felt so soft and smooth to the touch. Only the length
of the trousers needed to be determined and hemmed. While he was trying on
the jacket, Dave sneaked a peek at the price and almost fainted - $945. Next
Ruben came up with a blue blazer and two pair of slacks, one medium gray and
the other tan. To all of that, Rubin added several dress shirts, some
complimentary ties (ties that complimented his outfits, not free ones), and
some socks. Finally, Rubin took Dave to the Johnston & Murphy store next door
and helped Dave select a pair of dress shoes. By now, Dave was really
wondering what Art was up to. When Dave left, he took everything with him
except the suit and slacks, which had to be altered; Rubin told him he could
pick those items up Saturday afternoon.

When Dave returned to the store Saturday afternoon to pick up his new
clothing Rubin escorted Dave across the mall concourse to the luggage store
and helped him pick out a nice piece of carry-on luggage, one with wheels so
he wouldn't have to carry it all the time. Dave just assumed that when the
time was right, Art would tell him what the master plan was. Until then he
would take everything home and wait.

No classes were scheduled the Wednesday before Thanksgiving to allow students
one day to drive or fly to whatever destination they chose. Dave had
purchased his coach ticket a couple of months earlier for a good price. He
was proud that he could save so much money. He rented a car so he wouldn't
have to inconvenience anyone for his transportation between the airport and
Kate's house and charged it to his Hertz credit card. While driving to
Kate's house it occurred to him that someone might question how he could
afford to rent a car and he had to come up with an answer quick. Finally he
decided he would say he won the car in a campus contest and then hope nobody
asked about the contest. The subject never came up.

With a midmorning arrival, David had all day to play with the boys and help
Kate and John as much as he could. His mother and father had driven and
arrived the day before and John's parents flew and arrived about an hour
later. David was beginning to feel very good about being with his family
again. However, the next day things began to change. The closer they got to
the traditional Thanksgiving meal, the more tense David became. He began to
withdraw into himself and ignore the boys. Kate noticed and when she caught
David standing in front of the window in the sitting room and staring out
over the cold, gray landscape, she slid up beside him and eased her arm under
his.

"Penny for your thoughts," she stated.

"Ooh, Kate, I think this may be a mistake." David continued staring out the
window.

"Mistake? Why?" She asked.

"I don't know if I can do this."

"Do what, David? Help me out here, you're not making much sense."

"In a short while you're going to call us all in to the dining room. We're
going to stand around the table holding hands and ask for the Lord's blessing
and give thanks for everything." David paused then continued. "How can I give
thanks when I've lost Paul!" He paused again. "What if I just take a walk at
that time and y'all start without me. I'll join you later."

Kate looked up at her brother and noticed how much more mature he seemed. He
was a man now. Perhaps losing his lover had aged him. Perhaps his sadness was
what was making him seem more mature. Finally she had an idea.

"Stay with us, David, I'll talk to John. I'm sure he can come up with a
solution. Trust me... please."

For the first time since they began talking, David turned and looked at his si
ster. She smiled; David smiled back. "Okay," he said, and they stood staring
out the window together until Kate had to tend to something in the kitchen.

Not long after that everyone was called to the dining room and just as David
knew they would, everyone stood around the table holding hands. John began
the ceremony.

"Let us give thanks that we can all be together on this special day and share
in this wonderful feast. Amen." John looked at David and winked. There had
been no reference to God, no reference any blessings. John had managed to
satisfy the requirement of the moment without creating any greater stress for
David.

After dinner David got the urge to go for a walk and breathe some fresh air.
As he was putting on his coat John walked up and offered to go with him. As
the two men started down the walkway John placed his arm around David's
shoulders like a friend. At the end of the walkway they turned right and
continued up the sidewalk. Their departure had been observed by a pair of
concerned eyes - David's mother's eyes.

"Talk to me, David." John intended to make his brother-in-law get some things
off his chest, man-to-man.

"Well, thanks for that ceremony in the dining room, it was a stroke of
genius."

"Thanks, I hoped you'd like it. Now tell me how you're doing. And don't hold
back."

"Ooh... it's hell, John. Just when I think I've got things under control,
something happens that triggers more pain and more tears." They walked a few
more steps. John remained silent waiting for David to continue. "I'll make
it, I know I will. It's just going to take time."

Suddenly John couldn't think of anything else to say. He was convinced that
David was trying to get a grip on his emotions and he didn't want to say the
wrong thing so he kept his silence. After thirty minutes of walking together
they found themselves back in front of the house so they went in.

Later that evening David decided he would be better off if he left the next
morning. He called the airline and changed his reservation then told Kate. S
he was most disappointed and tried to talk him out of it. She didn't
succeed. David just made excuses to everyone else that he had to bet back to
school to get ready for final exams -- not exactly a lie.

He was able to get a seat on the first flight out on Friday morning but
didn't hesitate when he had to pay a penalty for changing his reservation. He
arrived back at the house just before 11:00 AM, Mike was at work, and as he
walked into his room the phone started to ring.

"Hello?" he answered.

"Oh, Dave, you surprised me. I wasn't expecting you to answer. I was just
going to leave a message but now that I have you instead, let's talk." It was
Art. "By the way, I thought you were at your sister's place."

"Yeah, I came home early. What's up?"

"When's the best time for you to come to Dallas?"

"How about now?" Dave had set this entire weekend aside to be at Kate's so
going to Dallas wouldn't cost him any time away from the books.

"You sure? Because if you can, that'll be great."

"Yeah. I'm sure I can get a flight; I just flew in from Kate's and the plane
was only half full. What do you have in mind?"

"Wear what you have on right now, pack that new suit, one pair of slacks,
shoes, a couple of white shirts and a couple of ties. Don't forget socks.
While you're packing I'll call the airline and get you a seat. When you get
here, someone will meet your plane and escort you to my car. I'll have you
back there by Sunday night. You got all that?"

Dave began to chuckle. "You're pretty well organized, you know that? Yeah, I
got it all. I'll start packing and see you later."

"Bye, Dave." Dave hung up the phone and stood still for a moment trying to
fathom what just happened. `Someone is going to meet me at the plane and
ESCORT me to his car?' Dave shook his head and started looking for the new
carry-on bag he just bought.

Before leaving the house, Dave thought he owed Mike a note explaining where
he was and what he was doing so he left a Post-it note in the middle of the
kitchen table where he was sure Mike would see it. He also asked Mike not to
tell anyone else where he had gone; just say he was at the library.

Dave began to realize he might be traveling a little too much when he arrived
at the airline ticket counter and the pretty agent at the first class counter
called him by name and motioned him to her station.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Baker, going to Dallas I see." Dave was taken aback by
the service. "Carry-on luggage? Yes." She answered her own question. "Here's
your ticket and boarding pass, your flight leaves in about an hour. You know
your way to the Cirrus Lounge, I presume?"

"Yes, thank you." Dave responded in a slight daze. He was obviously getting
the VIP treatment and had absolutely no idea why. Once in the Cirrus Lounge
he saw the table of food and realized he hadn't eaten since breakfast so he
loaded up a plate and sat down to watch a football game on the TV. Before he
knew it another pretty attendant was standing in front of him.

"Mr. Baker, your flight will begin boarding in just a few minutes if you'd
like to proceed there at this time."

"Thank, you." Dave said as he stood up. Grabbing his bag from the closet he
walked the short distance to the gate and heard the call for first class
passengers to board just as he walked up. Not having looked at his seat
assignment before now, he checked and found he was in seat 3-B, First Class.
`Art must have done this.' He smiled.

Dave remembered to bring a couple of textbooks and class notes with him so he
could take advantage of uninterrupted slow time on the flight. After the
airplane was parked at the gate and the cabin door opened, just as Art
promised, a young agent dressed in the airline uniform stood beside his seat.

"Mr. Baker?" The gentleman asked.

"Yes, I'm Mr. Baker," Dave replied.

"Is this your bag in the overhead?" The young man had already opened the
cover and had his hand on Dave's bag.

"Yes, that's it." Dave replied.

The man pulled Dave's bag out of the overhead and said, "If you'll follow
me, Sir, I'll take you to Mr. Radford.

"I'm right behind you," Dave said as he got out of his seat and followed the
man. They walked up the Jetway, down the concourse to the nearest security
exit, then to an exit to the building and stopped at the curb next to a shiny
silver BMW 545. At that moment Art stepped out of the driver's side and
walked around to greet Dave.

"Welcome to Dallas, Dave," Art said enthusiastically as he extended his hand.
Dave took Art's hand and they shook. "Just put that in the back seat for now,
and thank you." Art instructed the airline agent and handed him a tip. The
man smiled and disappeared into the terminal. "Hop in and let's get out of
here," Art invited Dave to get into the car.

As Art pulled away from the curb and aimed the nimble vehicle down the exit
ramp Dave could feel the power press him back against the seat. His hand
couldn't resist caressing the soft gray leather seat and he was impressed.
This was a fine car.

Once on the highway, Art unleashed the power of the Beemer and they were soon
cruising at a fast but comfortable speed. Art was an aggressive driver but
not in the same league as Paul had been.

"If you don't mind my asking, what's the agenda?" Dave asked as politely as
possible.

"Well, I'm inviting you to spend the night at my house, unless, of course,
you object. Beth knew Paul well, thought a lot of him and she and the girls
are excited to meet you. What's your verdict?"

"Just like a legal type, always wanting a `verdict'." Dave chuckled. He was
beginning to develop a strong liking to Art and his direct approach to
issues. "Yes, thank you very much, I'm honored that you ask."

"I hoped you'd accept," Art smiled as he chuckled at Dave's sense of humor,
"then later, if you're not too tired we can go over some things that I think
might interest you."

"What about tomorrow?" Dave asked.

"I'd like to leave that until after breakfast, if you don't mind. I don't
want to overload your circuits."

"That bad, is it!" Dave responded with a smile.

"No," Art laughed, "not really. I just think it's best if we focus on one
thing at a time. I want to enjoy your company, not work you so hard you won't
want to come back."

The conversation continued in a light, jovial mood as the silver BMW whisked
them down the Interstate. About forty-five minutes after leaving the airport,
Art exited the Interstate and drove into a residential neighborhood filled
with very large homes situated on two-acre lots. Soon Art turned into a
private driveway that led to a very large rambling ranch style home with a
four-car garage. With his architectural eye, Dave quickly assessed the house
as being exceptionally creative and function in its exterior design. He
credited the architect with knowing his business very well.

Art stopped in the driveway near the front entrance to the house, which was
brightly illuminated. As they were getting out of the car, the front door
opened and a ravishingly beautiful woman stepped out to great them. Art
grabbed Dave's bag from the back seat and led him to the front door.

"You must be Dave," Beth said with a smile as she extended her hand. "Art's
told me so much about you I'm so happy to finally meet you. Please come in,"
and Beth led Dave into the elegant foyer.

"Thank you for inviting me to your beautiful home," Dave replied.

"Come on, Dave, follow me and I'll show you to your room. We'll have plenty
of time to visit later." Art led Dave down a short hallway, around a corner
and into the bedroom wing of the house. Dave followed Art into a large
bedroom comfortably furnished in traditional style with a king-size bed, a
dresser, two chests and an inviting easy chair by the window. Art then showed
Dave the closet and the private bathroom.

"If you want to take some time to get cleaned up I'll have a gin-and-tonic
waiting when you're ready. Do you think you can find your way back to the
main part of the house?" Art asked.

"Thanks, Art. What I'd really like is a shower. I've been traveling since
this morning and have built up a layer of road film. Do I have time?"

"Certainly. Just help yourself. There are towels in the bathroom and if you
need anything else, just holler. There's an inter-com on the wall near the
door. Now, I'll leave you alone for a while. Just come on out when you're
ready." With that, Art turned and left the room.

Dave stood still. This had all happened so fast. He turned completely around
taking in the room. He decided he should remove his clothes from his luggage
and hang them up hoping they wouldn't be too wrinkled. After that he
undressed and took a shower. The hot water felt sooo good and relaxing. He
dried himself off and put on a clean pair of boxer briefs then sat down on
the bed. It felt nice and firm so he laid back and placed his head on the
pillow.

Art looked at his watch. It had been 45 minutes since he left Dave alone in
his room. "You better go check on him, Honey." Beth said.

"I think you're right, dear." Art replied and started down the hall. He
knocked on the door to Dave's room and got no reply. He carefully opened the
door and called, "Dave?" no reply. He walked into the room and saw Dave
stretched out on the bed looking so comfortable and so innocent. `Paul, you
sure picked a good one; too bad you're not here to enjoy him,' Art thought
as he walked to the side of the bed.

"Dave... Dave... time to get up."

"Huh... wha... Oh! Uh, Art. Yeah! I guess I fell asleep. Sorry." Dave said as he
struggled to regain his faculties. "I'll get dressed and be there in just a
minute." Dave said, sounding like he was in a hurry.

"Oh, no hurry, Dave, I just came to see if you were okay."

"Yeah, I guess I was a little tired. I'm not used to this much travel," Dave
said as he reached into the closet and pulled out the pair of gray slacks he
brought.

"I'll go pour that gin-and-tonic now, see ya." Art said as he left the room.

Dressed in his new clothes for the first time, Dave found the living room and
Art offered him the promised drink. Dave felt much better after that short
nap; he seemed much sharper. And his new clothes gave him a feeling of pride
in his appearance too.

The dinner went very well. This was the first time David had ever been a
guest in someone else's home, not counting Kate's who is really `family'.
Beth served chicken breasts in a wine sauce with candied carrots and green
beans. The social graces and skills David learned as a member of the Alpha
Society while in high school kicked in and he acquitted himself admirably.
Art's young daughters, ages 6 and 4, were suitably charmed and smiled
continuously.

In a very pleasant and cordial way, Beth peppered Dave with questions about
studying to becoming an architect, about his family, about his time in the
service. Art sat listening to Dave's answers and not once did he hear
anything that might conflict from what he had learned through the background
investigation he had commissioned. Further more, when Dave talked about his
family he never mentioned that his brother-in-law was a well-known football
player on a NFL team. The more Art learned about Dave, the more respect he
felt.

"Come on, Dave, bring your coffee and follow me to the library where we can
talk business." Art proposed as he scooted his chair away from the table.

"Beth, that was delicious. I sure would appreciate it if the chef would be so
kind as to slip me that recipe before I leave," Dave said as he pushed his
chair back and picked up his cup of coffee. "I would like to give it to my
chef so he can fix it for me some time."

"Oh, I'm sure that can be arranged, Dave, I'll ask the `chef' personally."
Beth had picked up on the humorous sarcasm of Dave's compliment and was
giving it right back to him. They both grinned at each other before Dave
turned and followed Art out of the dining room.

Art's library was an impressive sight with books on three walls and a large
multi-pained window on the fourth wall that looked out over a dimly lit
garden-like back yard. In front of the window was a large executive desk with
a leather high-back swivel chair between the desk and the window. Also in the
room was a long, comfortable looking dark leather sofa, two upholstered
chip-in-dale wing chairs and a couple of casual chairs. Art pulled one of the
casual chairs to the corner of the desk close to the swivel chair and then
sat down.

"Have a seat, Dave." Art motioned for Dave to sit in the casual chair. They
both set their coffee cups on the desk then Art pulled a work shelf out from
under the top of the desk so he would have a place to lay papers for Dave to
read. "One of the reasons I invited you here was to bring you up to speed on
your finances and investments." Art reached over to the other side of the
desk and picked up a thick portfolio containing numerous papers. "Please try
not to be overwhelmed, that's not the purpose of this meeting. But it's
important that you know what you have. So just keep an open mind as I go
through these papers and I'll do my best to explain things when you have
questions, which I know you will."

Art began laying document after document on the shelf, explaining what it
meant, and what Dave needed to know about it. Gradually Art worked his way
through all of Paul's, now Dave's investments, the property holdings like
the condo in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida, another condo in Vale, Colorado, and
the ranch in Texas where Dave spent so many wonderful hours with Paul.

Dave was stunned. "You mean Paul owned those places!" he exclaimed. Art
nodded his head `yes'. "But he told me a friend of his let us use them!"

"Knowing Paul, I'm sure he had a good reason for telling you that. From
everything he told me, and all that I've read from his personal notes, he
loved you very much and would only tell you something like that to protect
you. I'm also sure he never meant it as a lie."

Dave scooted back from the desk, stood, walked to the large window, and
stared out into the garden. It was such a peaceful setting. Art didn't say a
word; he could tell Dave was deep in thought. After several minutes Dave
turned around and looked at Art.

"What happens if I don't any or all of this?"

Art wasn't sure he understood what he just heard. "For example."

Dave hesitated before he spoke. "The ranch."

"Are you saying you don't want the ranch?"

Dave thought for a moment before he spoke again. "He inherited that from his
grandfather, didn't he. That makes it ancestral Roehl property."

"Yes, that's true." Art wasn't going to volunteer more information than Dave
requested.

"Well, I think it would be wrong for me to take that from the Roehl family.
Is there some way it can be returned to them?"

Art was stunned for a moment. Never in his young professional life had he
ever encountered such an act of generosity, concern and consideration for
someone else. His already high regard for Dave skyrocketed.

"You are the first trustee and if you direct me to return that to the Roehl
family, that is what I'll do."

"Art..." Dave hesitated and looked at his attorney. Art could see the moisture
in Dave's eyes. "I could never go back there. There are just too many
memories. They would destroy me."

"Okay, I think I understand. I'll make it happen."

"Thank you," Dave said as he turned and stared out the window again. In a few
moments he returned to his chair, sat down and took a sip of coffee -- it was
cold.

While Dave was staring out the window, Art was scribbling on a notepad.
Finally he looked up at Dave. "Deducting the value of the ranch property,
your net worth is that much." Art spun the pad of paper around so Dave could
see what he had written - $34.7 million dollars.

It was a good thing Dave was sitting down because his head began to spin.
Dave gasped. "Wha... Whoa..." he looked up at Art in total shock. "My God, Art,
I didn't know there was that much money in the whole world! Are you sure?"

"It would have been much more than that with the ranch and its cattle and oil
wells. But if you're satisfied..."

"Satisfied!" Dave exclaimed. "I'm stunned. What on earth am I going to do
with all that money!"

"You're going to learn how to manage it and make more of it."

"Does that mean I have to give up becoming an architect, quit school?"

"No." Art chuckled then he reached out his right hand and laid it on top of
the back of Dave's left hand and held it firmly. "Easy, Dave, it's not as
daunting as it looks. My law firm is in partnership with an investment
company and they manage the investments of several of our clients. It's their
job to make your investments grow because
the more growth they create, the more money they make. You can become as
involved as you choose."

"Well, that's a relief."

"Besides, I want you to become a famous architect so you can design Beth a
new house and not charge me a dime." Art grinned.

"In your dreams, counselor." Dave smiled with his quick retort.

"Paul used to donate large sums of money every year to his favorite charities
and you can continue doing that, select new charities, or stop any and all
donations, if you like."

"Which charities?"

"The American Cancer Society, his grandfather died of cancer, Big Brothers
and Big Sisters, the Boy Scouts, and the Boy's Clubs and Girls' Clubs, are
just a few, there are several others."

"Yeah, I can see him doing that, he said he had been a Boy Scout and really
liked it. I'd like to continue his contributions; I'm sure those charities
have budgeted with the anticipation of his donation."

"He also endowed a local organization, `The Foundation for Abused, Abandoned
and Neglected Children'. Through that endowment he was made a permanent
member on their Board of Directors. I have already consulted the Board
President and he assures me the entire board would like you to continue in
Paul's place. That means you would have to come to Dallas four times a year
for board meetings. In between meetings they would send you numerous updates
on the foundations activities and the status of its programs. Do you think
any of that would be a problem?"

"I had no idea!" Dave exclaimed softly. "Wow!" Art watched Dave carefully. He
didn't want to overload Dave with too much.

"Oh, there's one more thing." Art reached over to the left side of the desk,
picked up a black fabric portfolio case and laid it on the table. "This was
Paul's laptop computer. It's yours now. I searched it and didn't find
anything any incriminating evidence... like filthy pictures or such." They both
chuckled. "When you get this back home, look into getting a DSL line hooked
up. It's much faster than dial-up, and it will simplify our correspondence. I
use the same ISP that Paul used and it is available in your area." Art could
see a look of confusion on Dave's face.

"Look, Dave, I know this is a lot to swallow, like you're drinking from a
fire hose. You don't have to decide anything tonight. There's no rush on any
of this. I recommend you take plenty of time and think all this over. We can
come back to it whenever we need to."

"Okay." Dave agreed, "I think I could use a drink." Dave said, standing up
from the chair.

Art was more than ready for one himself. He walked over to one wall and
opened two cabinet doors. When the doors opened, a light came on from above
revealing a wet bar. The light illuminated the glass shelves, which contained
numerous stems of crystal and it cast a soft glow across the dimly lit room.
Art poured two glasses of brandy, handed one to Dave, and then clinked their
glasses together.

"You're going to be okay, Dave, I believe it. You have an inner strength; I
can tell.

"I wish I shared your optimism," Dave replied as he took his first sip of the
brandy. He'd never tasted anything quite like it and he found the aroma very
appealing. His first taste was an experience, the liquid was stronger than he
had anticipated and his eyes got a little watery.

"Trust me, Dave," Art continued. "Oh, there's one more thing that wasn't in
all those papers I showed you earlier." Art watched as Dave's eyes locked
onto his in unsure anticipation. "There's the matter of what you want to do
with the print from Paul's bedroom."

"The Bathers?" For some unknown reason Dave began to blush, although it
wasn't obvious in the dimly lit room. Admitting that he knew about the print
was also an admission that he had been in Paul's bedroom and Dave felt
embarrassed. Then reality took hold and he realized he had absolutely no
reason to feel that way because Art already knew everything there was to
know.

"Yes, The Bathers. I had it placed in storage and can have it shipped to you
whenever you would like."

"Can you hang on to it for a while, I don't have any place to put it at the
moment."

"Certainly. It will be just fine where it is until you want it."

Dave began to feel very tired. The day's travel, the change in time zones,
the pressure of the social situation, and the stress of spending over two
hours reviewing his new wealth was taking its toll. And the brandy was
beginning to cloud his brain. He noticed a clock on the wall and was
surprised to see that it was past 11:30 PM.

"Art, would I be impolite if I expressed a need to go to bed right now?"

"You're reading my mind. I know you've had a long day and so have I. Let's
turn in and get a good night's sleep." Art placed his arm around Dave's
shoulder and guided him through the house toward his bedroom. Beth and the
girls were already in bed and the house was quiet. Art turned off lights as
they made their way through the house. "Good night, Dave. If you need
anything our bedroom is at the end of the hall. Please don't hesitate to ask.
Oh, tomorrow, wear your new suit." Art left Dave and walked down the hall.

Dave went into his bedroom to find the sheets had been turned down for him.
He quickly stripped to his boxer briefs, hanging up his new clothes as he
removed them. He was so exhausted he was asleep almost before his head hit
the pillow.

Although the bed was very comfortable, Dave's sleep was restless. He slept
well for the first four hours then tossed and turned after that. Images of
the ranch, the Ft. Lauderdale condo, the Westin Hotel, interspersed with the
numbers $34.7 kept cycling through his dreams. Thankfully he awoke, forcing
the dreams to evaporate into the ether. The clock on the night table
displayed 6:45 AM, later than he normally awoke but early considering the
time he went to bed.

Not knowing exactly what to expect of his hosts, Dave showered and dressed
leisurely, hoping to give the residents time to roll out of bed. He wore his
new suit, a white shirt, and a maroon tie with geometric shapes on it. Soon
he heard voices and smelled coffee and presumed it was okay for him to emerge
from his shell. When he walked into the kitchen he found that everyone was
well awake and dressed for a busy day except Art, who was still dressing.

"Good morning, Dave," Beth greeted him cheerfully when he walked into the
kitchen. "Please join the girls at the table while I get you a cup of coffee.
Art is still trying to get himself put together. My, you boys were up late
last night, I hope you solved all the world's problems. We have several cold
cereals, bagels, eggs any style: what would you like?"

Poor Dave was not used to this much `ON' conversation so early in the
morning so he had to force himself to spin up a little faster. "Would you
happen to have any Cheerios, perhaps?" he asked then took a sip of coffee.

"Of course! It's one of the girl's favorites. Just sit still and I'll set
you right up. I'm taking the girls shopping this morning, got to get out
there and snap up all those bargains, you know. Why, the Saturday after
Thanksgiving is my favorite day to shop. I wait for a whole year and have a
long list and the girls and I hit the stores and have a lot of fun."

About that time Art walked into the kitchen, poured his own cup of coffee,
kissed Beth on the cheek and sat down at the table. Dave couldn't ignore the
almost sudden blessed silence; Beth was not talking. He could draw no other
conclusion than that Art liked quiet in the morning and Beth knew it. Dave
smiled inwardly. Everyone finished their breakfast in relative quiet except
for an occasional question about one mundane thing or another.

"Are you ready to take on another day?" Art asked, as he and Dave were
finishing off their second cup of coffee.

"Sure. What's on the agenda?" Dave asked as the two men made eye contact.
Dave was trying to see if he could read anything in Art's eyes but they must
have been trained to be lawyer's eyes because they revealed nothing.

"Let's hit the road and we can cover things along the way," Art explained as
he scooted his chair back and stood up. Dave did the same. Dave picked up his
suit coat from the back of his chair where he had hung it before sitting down
to eat, and Art did the same. "Bye, Dear," Art said as he kissed Beth
lovingly on the cheek again, then turning to Dave, "Follow me."

Dave followed Art down the hall from the kitchen, through a door, and into
the garage. Some time the previous evening Art must have moved the BMW into
the garage because there it was, in the fourth bay. They walked past a BMW
750, a Jaguar S-Type and a Jeep Grand Cherokee before reaching the silver BMW
545. As they approached the car, Art stopped, turned around and handed the
keys to Dave.

"Why don't you drive. It'll help you learn your way around."

"You're going to let me drive this awesome car? Aren't you the least bit
concerned I might wreck it?"

"No, it's your car." Art replied confidently. "Paul ordered this car a couple
of months before the accident. He only drove it from the dealer's lot to
here. He asked me to hold it for him until he could get rid of his Boxster.
It has only 94 miles on it. It was listed in one of those papers you looked
at last night but I can see how you might have overlooked it."

"Okay," Dave answered with uncertainty in his voice. He slid behind the wheel
and sat quietly for several seconds while he looked around the instrument
panel to locate the important dials and gages. Then he found the ignition and
inserted the key. Art pointed out the garage door opener and pressed the
button; the garage door began to open. Before turning the key to start the
car, Dave looked over at Art.

"I think you're the most organized person I know," he said.

"Yeah, Beth says I'm anal retentive, whatever that means," was Art's reply.
Dave began to laugh.

"That's what my sister, Kate says about me," and Art joined in the laughter.
"You know, I have a feeling we're going to work well together."

"I've thought that from the moment I met you," Art replied. "Oh, by the way,
Beth thinks you're cute."

"Oh shit!" Dave exclaimed. "Pardon me, but I've been living with being called
`cute' all my life. It's embarrassing."

"Well," Art was chuckling, "start this thing and let's get moving." Art
wasn't going to engage Dave in a discussion about him being `cute'.

Dave carefully backed the car out of the garage and cautiously drove out of
the driveway and down the street. Art suggested that if Dave didn't kick it
in the ass, they'd never get where they were going. That was the kind of
motivation Dave could respond to and he did. Art gave timely directions on
which lane to be in and where to turn but he never said where they were
going. After about an hour, at Art's direction, Dave turned the car into
driveway, through a gate, and into a cemetery.

Dave immediately stopped the car and placed the transmission in Park. He sat
staring straight ahead. He didn't know exactly where he was yet he knew
exactly where he was. `This must be where Paul is.' he thought and he seemed
to be unable to move.

"You gonna be okay with this; you want me to drive?" Art finally broke the
silence with great compassion in his voice.

"No, I'm okay... just tell me where to drive," Dave answered softly. The
moment he longed for and the moment he dreaded had arrived. Art directed him
to drive along the winding narrow road and then told him to stop. Art got out
of the car and waited for Dave to come around to the passenger side.

"He's right up there, Dave." Art pointed up the slope of a slight rise. "You
can't miss him; he has the newest headstone among a number of older ones.
Here, take this," Art said and he handed Dave a rubber pad that looked like
something a gardener might use to kneel on.

Dave accepted the pad and began walking up the rise. The day had started with
sunlight but clouds had moved in and a cold wind was picking up. It seemed to
add appropriate punctuation to the feel to the moment.

Walking slowly, Dave began to notice other headstones with the name `Roehl'
on many of them. This was an older section of the cemetery and was probably
reserved for the Roehl family.

Suddenly there it was! "PAUL ALEXANDER ROEHL." Below his name were the dates
of his birth and death, followed by the epitaph: "You are in our hearts
forever." Dave stood and stared in stunned silence, for how long he had no
idea. Time had no value.

Leaning against the car down below, Art looked up the hill and watched Dave
kneel on the pad, extend his right hand and touch the mound of earth closest
to the headstone. He could see Dave's lips moving and his head and shoulders
bobbing as if he were crying. Art had to turn away as tears filled his own
eyes. He hoped this would be the final event that would help Dave find
release from his grief and allow him to move on. Art lost all track of time
as he tried to play mind games to avoid thinking about Dave up on the hill.
Then he heard footsteps behind him. Dave walked around the car and slid
behind the wheel. Art got in the car on the passenger side and closed the
door. Both men looked straight ahead, neither speaking for several minutes.
Finally, Dave broke the silence.

"You'll have to tell me where to go, you know." Art turned his head to his
left and looked into Dave's red, puffy eyes and a smiling face.

"Are you sure you really want me to tell you where to go?"

"Yeah, I guess I asked for that, didn't I!" Dave chuckled then reached for
the key and started the car. Art began directing Dave where to drive and
after a while they were in downtown Dallas and pulling into a parking garage
under a very tall building. Following Art's able directions he pulled into a
parking spot with Art's name on it.

"Look, it's almost noon, what say we grab a bite to eat then I'll show you
my office."

"Yes, I am hungry," Dave replied. They got out of the car and took the
elevator to the lobby floor of the building. Walking side by side, Art guided
them out the door and down the street about a half a block, then up some
stone steps and into an older, distinguished, historical looking building.
Once inside, an older gentleman who was wearing a formal black waiter's
uniform greeted them.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Radford, your usual table?"

"Thank you, Jeoffrey, that will be fine. Oh, allow me to introduce one of our
newest members," Art said as he turned to Dave, "This is Mr. David Baker, and
Dave, this is Jeoffrey. This place couldn't run without his strong guidance."

"Now, Mr. Radford, you always were prone to exaggeration. Don't believe a
word he says, Mr. Baker."

"Thank you, Jeoffrey, Art is an excellent judge of talent but I'll most
certainly be cautious." Dave chuckled and then smiled at Art. They followed
Jeoffrey into a large, formal dining room with walls paneled in dark
mahogany. The ceiling must have been at least15 feet high and dark, burgundy
velvet curtains hung from the ceiling and were pulled back away from the
windows allowing only a minimum amount of light to enter the room. Art and
Dave sat down facing each other in a three-sided booth that was covered in
soft, dark leather. The table wasn't very big so they would be able to talk
privately. Jeoffrey handed Art and Dave large menus and said a waiter would
be with them soon.

Before Dave could open the menu to see what his options might be, a young man
was filling their water glasses. When Dave was finally able to look at the
menu, the first thing he noticed was that there were no prices next to any of
the items. "Well, I guess I don't need to know. So, let's see what they are
offering.' Dave thought as he began reading from top left. A few minutes
later, after Dave was bemused by his choices, the waiter arrived.

"Will the gentlemen be interested in a drink before eating?" He asked.

"Nothing to drink for me, thank you, Morgan, are you ready, Dave?" Art asked.

"No, please, go ahead. I'm still thinking." If Art ordered anything that
sounded decent, he'd just order the same thing.

"Morgan, please bring me the tossed salad with the bits of grilled salmon and
your Balsamic Vinaigrette dressing."

"That sounds great, make it two." Dave felt like he had escaped some fate
worse than death, trying to select some mysterious item from the menu.

"So tell me, Dave, how's Mike?" Art tried to select a topic of conversation
that would focus on anything but Dave and Paul.

"Mike is a great guy; he's so fun to be with," Dave replied with a little
more excitement in his voice. He seemed eager to talk about Mike so Art let
him go, thinking Dave might give more insight about the nature of their
relationship. "...He laughs and smiles a lot... at least he did before..." Dave's
voice trailed off as he resisted saying something in anger. "I don't know if
you know what happened to him but Paul helped him get out of the Army after
the MPs found him with another guy. I'll leave it at that."

"Yes, he told me a little about being assaulted. Is that where he got that
little scar under his left eye?" Art knew much more than he was letting on
about. He'd read Mike's case file in Paul's laptop before he printed it for
the Army then deleted it.

"I wasn't there when it happened, but I never saw that scar until he got to
my place and the black and blue marks faded. Anyway, Mike's a great friend
but he's a little naïve. I mean, he doesn't always think his ideas out
before he acts on them and that sometimes gets him in trouble. I'd like to
see him find someone he can depend on, someone to take care of him. He's a
terrific catch for the right guy. In the mean time I'm happy to have him
living with me; he's good company."

Art quickly concluded that Dave didn't consider Mike to be his type, they
were nothing more than friends and that's probably the way it would stay.
Nudging the conversation in a slightly different direction, Art asked about
Dave's childhood and where he grew up, how he discovered his interest in
architecture, and a few other subjects of a non-threatening nature. Art also
explained that they were dining in a very old private club with an exclusive
clientele and that Dave was now a member and he would find it useful for
business purposes as time went on. As they began to sip on fresh cups of
coffee, Art looked at Dave and began to speak more seriously.

"Dave, there's one more item on the agenda. And you decide whether you're up
to it.

*******

(To be continued)