Date: Thu, 24 Jan 2002 12:19:28 -0800 (PST) From: Orrin Rush Subject: The Lifeguard Disclaimer: The following is a work of fiction. If you are offended by graphic descriptions of homosexual acts, go somewhere else. Copyright c 2001 by Orrin C. Rush. All rights reserved. Neither this story nor any parts of it may be distributed electronically or in any other manner without the express, written consent of the author. This is a work of fiction, any resemblance of the characters to anyone living or dead is pure coincidence and not intended. They are all products of the author's imagination. -------------------------------------------------------------- THE LIFEGUARD Chapter 53 "The Holidays are coming up again," I commented over dinner. "Anybody got any plans for Thanksgiving?" I asked. "Anything but a repeat of last year," Eric groaned. "I'm planning to have dinner with Rick's family, if that's all right with everyone," Tina said. "Hans has invited me to go snowboarding in Switzerland," Annie said. "It's not one of their holidays, but who needs an excuse," she giggled. "We have an open invitation at Mom and Dads," Eric told me. "I think Ryan and his family are coming down." "Then it's settled," I said. "Everybody's got their own plans. We can let everybody here have a few days off. Moving on, what about Christmas?" "I've invited Hans," Annie said. "I hope he'll come early and stay several weeks." "My cousins in Chicago have made some noises about coming to visit us right after Christmas. Don't know how many or when, yet," Eric said, then turning to Tina and Annie. "Better warn you, I have a strong feeling that the whole bunch might be gay. They'll behave, but thought you should know." "So what?" Tina said. "We have gay guys around all the time. I love 'em, two in particular." "Want to have another 'Open House'?" I asked. "We HAVE to," Annie said. "It's already a tradition! Let's go all-out this year." - - - - - Eric's ability to delegate had developed to a fine art, and his knack for finding the right person for the right job had been amply demonstrated. These talents were at work again. He had located a large number of candidates for the job of Foundation President and was sifting through them. He'd be elated one day and disappointed the next as he went through the initial screening process. Some that he had high hopes for turned out not to be what he was looking for, and others pleasantly surprised him. He had narrowed it down to the "short list" when he asked for my input. "Any of these guys could do the job very well," he said, "now it's down to deciding which one we could work with best." He had final interviews for each one scheduled that would include Annie, Tina and me. After that, the four of us would get together and make a final decision. We met with all four during the same day, one after the other, nobody making any comments in between. When the last one left, Eric asked us what we thought. Tina went first. "They're ALL nice, pleasant and would be good, but I like the little chubby guy with the twinkling eyes. It's just a gut feeling." "He's my choice, too," Annie said. "How about you Eric?" "I picked him a long time ago," he chuckled. "Then it's unanimous," I said. "The twinkle in his eye got to me too." "His name's George - for everyone's information," Eric said. "George William Collins the third." - - - - - "One down, one to go," Eric said that evening. "How's the other one coming along?" I asked. "Between resumes, questionnaires and recommendations, I've already narrowed it down to seven," he said. "I got a lot of help from the Culinary Institute in upstate New York. "I have interviews set up in New York, and also a lot of possible locations to look at," he continued. "When are you going?" I asked. "When are WE going," he corrected me with a grin. "Next Monday, if you can get away. Should only take a day or two." - - - - - We were on a tight schedule. Monday would be interviews, Tuesday would be spent with the realtor, and Wednesday more interviews. On the flight East, Eric gave me the paperwork on each candidate which I read over carefully. His notes on each were the most revealing, detailing their strengths and weaknesses. He also had a list of questions that he planned to ask each one. Damn, this guy was organized! "All of them have 'kitchen' knowledge," he commented, "but their concentration has been on management which is what we're looking for." "I notice that most of them are fairly recent graduates," I said. "Any particular reason for that?" "Yes," he smiled. "That way they haven't had a chance to get too ingrained in the way some other company does things. Fewer bad habits to break, but they still have the basic knowledge and can be trained to our somewhat unorthodox management style." We zipped through the interviews, all seven of them, mainly because Eric was prepared. The questions he asked were probing and provided the information we needed. I had little to add, and was mostly an observer throughout the process. Out of seven, one in particular got my interest. According to his application he was 36, personable and someone I felt could work with Maurice, something I didn't think would be easy. He appeared assertive enough not to put up with any of the crap that Maurice was sure to dish out, and had the personality to do it in a tactful way. Not surprisingly, he was Eric's choice too. We'd call him back on Wednesday. Tuesday morning, Eric's Realtor met us in a Limo to show us the properties she'd found. For a change, we were interested in leasing instead of buying. The first place that we looked at was, in my opinion, too small, the second, good size but rotten location, and so it went until late afternoon, when we found what I felt was the ideal spot. Eric, who'd been losing interest fast, perked up too. It was almost the whole first floor of an older but elegant hotel. It had once been the hotel's dining room, but that had been 30 or 40 years ago, and hadn't been used recently for anything. The building was on a corner, the hotel entrance on one street, and the dining room around the corner with a walk-up entrance. Tall windows, around eight feet above sidewalk level went across the front. The room itself was huge, plenty of room for the fifty tables we planned, probably more. The ceiling was, I'd estimate, about 18 feet, proportionate to the room's size. The kitchen was ancient, but could be modernized and there was room for expansion. Other advantages, the Realtor explained, were that the space was already zoned for a restaurant, 40 underground parking spaces were available, and, most importantly, the price was right. Both Eric and I were smiling. "Don't think we have to look any further," I commented. "Nope," he said with a grin. I was curious, though, "Why is this place vacant?" I asked the Realtor. "For one thing, it's too big," she said. "For another, most of the new restaurants that're starting up can't afford it and go for lofts or warehouses with all the pipes and stuff along the ceiling exposed. Cheaper to decorate too." "What kind of lease do they want?" Eric asked her. "Straight 5 year, no percentage," she said. "Would they go for a longer term?" he asked. "I think they'd jump at it," she said. - - - - - We were both excited. The only remaining "if" was whether Maurice would like it. We decided to find out before we went any further. He and Philippe got to the penthouse in minutes, and the taxi ride to the place was short. The two of them went straight to the kitchen, then came out, expressionless, to look over the dining room. They examined the place from end to end, top to bottom, talking between themselves. When they came over to where we were standing, Maurice very quietly said "Enormous possibilities!" and started telling us everything that he'd do to the place. His enthusiasm built as he expounded. It was catching, and soon Eric and I were as excited as he was. "It will be elegant but simple," he stated, "the proper setting for the elegant food I will serve. It's larger than I expected, but we can fill the place every night, that, I'm sure of! Have you signed the lease yet?" "We wanted your approval first," Eric told him. "See if you can get some space behind the kitchen for offices," he suggested. "The Manager and I'll need some space. We could cut through the wall, maybe even have an entrance from the other side." Neither of us had thought of that. "Is the kitchen big enough?" I asked. "Plenty of room," he said. "If the kitchen's too big, it isn't efficient. Of course, we'll have to gut this one and start over, but the ventilation's there, and just about everything else we'll need." "Then, this is acceptable?" I asked. "It could be perfection, I can see it all now..." he said. "Can I choose the decorator?" "Do you have someone in mind?" Eric asked. "Yes, Brucie," he smirked. "He may get nuts at times, like your kitchen, but we can work together." Eric burst out laughing. "But all the yelling you guys did..." "Oh, that's just an act," Maurice grinned. "Both Brucie and I know that!" "We're going to hire a Manager tomorrow," Eric told him. "Do you want to meet him?" "Bring him to our place for dinner tomorrow night, Brucie too if he can make it," Maurice said. "Then we can go to work." - - - - - Wednesday was another busy day. Eric's Realtor came over early to take us to see the space that could be converted to offices. The owner's agents were there and we negotiated the lease at the same time, 10 years with an option for another ten. Preliminary papers were signed on the spot. Brucie had lunch with us and went berserk when we offered him the decorating job. "Of course I'll do it," he screamed, drawing the attention of every other person in the place. Mark, the fellow we'd chosen for the Manager's position, accepted our offer enthusiastically. He had to give notice but would be able to start in two weeks. Our team was complete. - - - - - If I dined the way I did at Maurice's that night on a regular basis, I'd weigh 300 pounds in no time. Utterly fabulous. Equally satisfying was seeing how fast rapport developed between Maurice and Mark. Brucie seemed to get along with everyone. Philippe was quiet, retiring, but didn't miss a word. Ideas flew around like a swarm of bees. There was agreement and disagreement, but everyone was open to suggestion. Eric and I listened and learned. While we were eating, Mark asked how we had all gotten together. "Chef Maurice prepared Eric's birthday dinner in Denver a couple of years ago," I said. "From there, Eric conned him into cooking for him here in New York, and from there, he and Philippe have become our good friends." Eric took up the story from there. "Bruce decorated our apartment here in New York. Maurice helped us outfit the kitchen, and that's how the two of them met." "I still think that kitchen's an insult to any cook," Maurice snorted. "You don't have any taste," Brucie shot back, and they were off and running, trading insults and having a wonderful time doing it. "Is this what I have to look forward to every time you two get together?" Mark asked in mock horror. "Yep, but we promise there won't be any bloodshed," Brucie giggled, reaching over to give Maurice a hug. We left for home the next morning. Mission accomplished. - - - - - Annie returned from her week in Switzerland totally mellow. She was up early every morning with a smile which scared all the staff and made Eric and me chuckle. "I guess you're trainable afterall," Eric kidded her. "Oh, maybe," she mooned. "I'm getting to like Hans more and more," I told her. All she did was smile mischeviously. "He's going to be here for three weeks over Christmas," she said. "The office'll be closed so I'll be able to show him around." "Speaking of Christmas," I said, "it's not that far away. Who's doing the planning?" "Everybody, haven't you heard?" Tina piped up. "No," I said. "Tell me what you've got going." "We didn't think you'd be interested in details, so the three of us just went ahead," she explained. "We've conned Gary into helping us decorate," she continued, "we're going for the 'old fashioned' look. It'll be overdone, I'm sure, but it'll be fun. Since the guest list will be much larger than last year, and since it's cooler at night, we're going to put up a big tent out on the back 40. It'll be decorated too. Eric's handling the food and booze, and Annie's taking care of the music, and Hans," she giggled. "Everybody needs to give me their guest lists," Annie said, "my secretary's going to handle the invitations. At least I can handle THAT," she said, sticking her tongue out at her sister. - - - - - The Lifeguard Foundation was housed in office space in our new building that had originally been set aside for Micron. On his first day, George showed up prepared. I showed him around, introducing him to the people in our organization that I thought could help him. The Foundation would be a separate, self-contained entity, but there were some functions that could be shared with Metalco such as computer systems and payroll. Why duplicate? George's first objective was to build the necessary organization so the Foundation could function. He made it clear that his staff would be minimal, that he had no intention of squandering money on "administration" that could better be used for Education, our stated purpose. He would work with Metalco's Human Resources to build his staff. Lifeguard was a non-profit, tax-exempt organization with more than a billion dollars languishing in a bank account, earning minimal interest. George wanted to change that, fast, getting that money invested in securities that would provide higher return as well as safety and liquidity. His goal was an 8% return. George also had a timetable. He wanted his staff in place by January first, and to be ready to concentrate on the AIDS Education Project. We didn't have any instructions for him. We'd be available to help whenever he needed, but beyond that, he was on his own. - - - - - We lurched toward Christmas. We'd included all Hydra employees, including Lovebird, in the two-week shutdown, so everyone was making preparations. The only group that would remain at work was Lifeguard. George didn't feel that they could take that much time off and still meet the deadlines he'd set. It wasn't going to be much of a vacation for us. The week before Christmas would be total chaos at home, and Eric's cousins were arriving the day after Christmas, six of them, who'd be staying until after the New Year. We received a big package from Maurice. In it were artist's conceptions of how the restaurant would look from Brucie, a cost breakdown from Mark, and a letter from Maurice explaining everything and asking for our approval so they could shoot for an April opening. Eric and I both went over everything carefully. We definitely approved of the renovation and redecorating. Walls and ceiling a warm ivory with gold sconces on the walls and pillars and huge chandeliers. The cost estimates on furniture - tables and chairs was a major shock as was the cost of tableware. Maurice explained, in his letter, that it would be cheaper in the long run to buy "good stuff" than to try to cut corners. Mark's comments agreed with that. Renovation of the kitchen was less than I expected, but the overall total of $2.5 million was more than I expected. We worked up a projection based on what little we knew, and the numbers came out that menu prices would have to be in the $100.00 range which wasn't out of line. We gave them an OK to go ahead and asked Mark to let us know when he'd need the money. - - - - - Tina's prediction was becoming true. The decorating was, in my opinion, being overdone, and they were only getting started. It was too much for the kids and our staff to handle so Gary had brought his own crew. Evergreen boughs were arriving by the truckload, made into garlands and draped everywhere. All of Sam's Poinsettias had been commandeered, and not one but several Christmas trees were decorated. The overall effect was colorful, that's for sure, and rather "busy", but it did put me in the Christmas Spirit. Hans arrived in the middle of all this chaos and was promptly put to work. In order to simplify matters, he was put in a guestroom in the girls' wing, and the three bedrooms in "our" wing were held for the "cousins". The pace quickened as Saturday approached. A tent big enough to hold a three-ring circus was put up on the back 40. I didn't even peek inside. According to rumor, it would be a "Winter Wonderland". After dinner Friday night, I pulled exhausted Eric aside. "We're going to bed early tonight," I told him. "You NEED some rest, and I'm going to relax you." "I'll bet!" he said with a twinkle in his eye and a big grin. - - - - - "I'm not as good at giving massages as Jacques is," I told him, straddling his legs, "so this is going to be short." I rubbed his broad back, not even trying to dig into the muscles, then rolled him over. "I'll take care of that in a minute," I said, referring to his dick standing at attention. I started with a scalp massage and worked my way downward, gentle strokes, not intentionally erotic, watching his dick bob and drip. When I got to it, I straddled him again, putting our dicks together. With well lubed hands, I stroked as lightly as I could. No fancy stuff, just lightly up and down. He moaned and groaned but didn't thrust up, just enjoying, looking into my eyes with a blissful smile. "Are you close?" he murmured. "Fighting it," I told him. "Let's go!" he said. That's all it took for twin fountains of cum to spray all over both of us. I took a few licks then toweled off the rest. Before I could turn out the lights, he was asleep. - - - - - All I knew was that most of those invited had accepted, not that they'd all arrive at the same time. Jacques, manning the front door, was overwhelmed, but managed to get them in. I was also amazed at some of the people who arrived from all over the country. Two limos unloaded half the population of Texas, there was a big Arizona contingent, and Len and Lee came from Massachusetts, among others. Eric and I tried to greet everybody, but it just wasn't possible even though we split up, and ended up just waving at many. Even after the initial crush, a steady stream of people continued to arrive for another two hours, then it tapered off. Finally, Eric and I were able to "circulate" and have a little fun ourselves. Most of the crowd had gone out to the tent where a band was playing, but our large living room was still full. The noise level was rising, and it appeared that everyone was having a good time. I saw that Spence, who'd arrived alone, was surrounded by Lifeguards, and was smiling a lot. Len and George were talking, no doubt about the Foundation. I'd introduced them earlier. I located Eric and we went out to the tent, me for the first time. It was goddam unbelievable! Tall trees lined the walls, covered in fake snow, there were snowmen and lights everywhere. I couldn't estimate how many thousand tiny twinkling lights there were covering the whole ceiling. The overall effect was so realistic that I got a chill! The dance floor was full, and I stopped for a minute to watch. I saw Hans dancing, and it took me a minute to figure out who he was dancing WITH. Holy shit! He was dancing with one of the Lifeguards! I pointed this out to Eric, who looked, then said "Don't worry, I'm still positive he's straight." "I wasn't worried, just amused," I told him. We went in separate directions, table hopping. When I got to Annie's table, she was giggling. "Did you see Hans?" she wanted to know. I nodded with one eyebrow raised. "He wore us all out," she said, indicating the other girls at the table, "and now he's working on them," she continued, pointing over her shoulder at a table full of Lifeguards and their boyfriends. "He's got so much energy I'm beginning to wonder if he's on drugs," she giggled. "I think he'll fit in just fine with our strange family," I laughed. At the next table, the Lifeguards got up to give me a group hug. "Hans may be straight," they said, "but make sure Annie doesn't let him get away! He's such a neat guy." I worked my way around the room. This year, I knew virtually everybody, for a change. The band, whoever they were, was a good one, playing 70's and 80's Classic Rock at a decibel level that wasn't painful. Eric was already there when I arrived at the Texan's two tables. I got a big hug from all the ladies, and Big George unashamedly gave me one of his bear hugs. There were a couple of empty seats, so we sat, for the first time in hours. We talked about the kids. Everyone approved of Rick, and wanted to know all about Annie's new "beau". "I think it's about time for another cruise," Claire announced. "We're ready when you are," Eric told her. "Oh no you don't!" Big George roared. "You're not leaving us home this time!" he said, indicating the other husbands. "Don't you trust us with your womenfolk?" Eric giggled. "It ain't that," Big George laughed, "we don't want to miss out on all the fun y'all have." Across the tent, I noticed that people from the house were coming in, standing around as if waiting for something to happen. It didn't really register because I was so involved with the Texans. I did notice that the band finished their number and didn't start another right away. Then the lights on stage started dimming and went out completely, followed by the tiny lights on the roof of the tent until the whole place was totally dark. Conversation stopped and the place became silent in anticipation. Eric's arm went around me and pulled me to him. The tinkling of a piano could be heard, then a voice, starting low, came out of the darkness. It was unmistakable. Al, singing his latest hit. The lights came up, the whole crowd rose and roared, drowning him out. I looked at Eric. He had an enormous grin, his eyes were twinkling. I grinned back but didn't say a word. The crowd quieted and Al continued singing, the band joining in. Al wasn't just a singer, he was an entertainer, his charisma totally capturing the audience. He segued from one of his classics to another, getting rousing applause for each. When he finally stopped and took a bow, the applause was thundering. He held up his hand, and eventually it died down. "This next song is dedicated to two of my very special friends, Dave and Eric," he said. The band started and he launched into "More". Eric held me tighter and I totally lost it. Tears started running down my cheeks uncontrollably. I looked at Eric who was smiling as the tears poured down his cheeks too. We stared into each others eyes and let them run. I had never seen or felt love like I did for those few minutes while Al was singing. When he finished the song, there was a moment's silence, then, the applause was deafening, everyone giving him a standing ovation that, I'm sure, could be heard for miles. Al waited, then started a medley of Christmas songs, soon getting the whole crowd to join in. I worked to regain my composure. Looking around the table, Eric and I were far from the only ones who had been affected. There wasn't a dry eye. When Al finished, he yelled "Merry Christmas everybody!" the lights went out and he disappeared from the stage. When the lights came back up, Eric stood and pulled me up. "You're going to have to excuse us," he said, dragging me with him. "How'd you pull that off?" I asked as Eric and I walked back to the house. "It was Al's idea," he said. "You're going to have to explain THAT!" I told him. "Later," he grinned. Al and Rick were waiting in the den, Jacques serving them drinks. I gave Al a big hug and said "Thank you!" "Don't thank me yet," he said, "you haven't seen the bill yet...for the band," he laughed. "I sing for my dinner, remember, so where's the food?" he kidded. I must have looked confused, because Al was laughing at me. "I can't eat before I sing, and we're having a light supper on the way home," he explained. "Speaking of which, we'd better hit the road. You'll be calling me in a couple of weeks, won't you, Eric?" "I certainly will," Eric assured him. There were goodbye hugs all around and we escorted them through the throng in the house to their waiting limo. "Don't worry, they're using the Gulfstream," Eric assured me. Buffets had been set out, but I was too hyper to eat. John, our friend the gossip columnist, immediately cornered me. "Dave, you just HAVE to let me write about this. My God, it's the party of the century!" he gushed. "No, John, I'd prefer that you didn't," I told him. "But, I'll make you a deal. Tina's getting married next spring and we'll give you an exclusive, pictures and all." "I can live with that," he agreed, very reluctantly. Out in the tent, the party was coming back to life. Many were still eating but the dance floor was full. Tina grabbed me. "I didn't even know you knew him," she said. "How did you get him to perform here?" "I honestly don't know," I told her, "Eric did it." I answered that same question so many times that I was ready for Eric to take the stage and explain. I didn't have the answers. I danced a couple of times, slow ones, with Claire and Sandy, Bill's wife. Sandy threatened to put me on the "entertainment committee" for her next charity ball. Hans had finally run out of gas and was sitting for a change. I joined their table. "Sorry to say this," he said, "but this party puts all of Sarah's to shame." At 3:00 AM, the band packed up. Those remaining left reluctantly. As had become the custom, we gathered in the den for a party post-mortem. "OK, babe, how'd you get Al to sing for us?" I asked. "Who's Al?" Rick asked. "That's his real name," Eric explained, "the one you know is his stage name." "Come on, tell all," Annie begged. "Your Dad and I met Al and Rick on St. John's, and became good friends with both of them. Al called me when he got our invitation. During our conversation, he asked if we'd like him to sing. I told him "of course" but said that I'd never ask him to do it. "He volunteered, and suggested that we hire his band for the whole evening. That's when I took over the music from you, Annie. Anyway, we worked out all the details, and the rest is history." "It IS historic," Hans said. "For a concert like he put on tonight, he gets millions, and he doesn't do many of those. I consider myself very lucky to have been here." "Hey Hans, what's this with you dancing with all the guys?" I chuckled. "Hope I didn't embarass you," he answered. "On the contrary," I said. "It's good to see that gay guys don't bother you." "I'm not interested in any of them THAT way," he protested. "A long time ago, I noticed that gay men had more fun than anybody else, so I've had good gay friends all my life. It seems to me that you Americans make too much of an issue out of it." "We do, unfortunately we do," Eric said. - - - - - We didn't wake up until noon. The kids were all gone and the house had been returned to normal. It was a beautiful day and Eric suggested that we work on our tans. "I'm still curions," I said. "Why would Al do such a wonderful thing for us?" "I've thought about that, too," he admitted. "I've come up with two reasons. One, he sincerely likes us, and two, the Lifeguard Foundation." "Why the Foundation?" "Al's had his problems over the years, drugs, booze, some really sleazy friends. I'm sure you've heard about them. He's cleaned up his act, and sees active participation in the Foundation as a way to gain 'respectability'. I have no problem with that, and it works both ways. He can be an enormous help to us, and I'll make damned sure that he gets the recognition he deserves." I thought about what he'd said for a minute. "You really are a nice guy. I'm kinda glad I married you." "It's a win-win situation," he continued. "He's going to be opening doors for us that we'd have a hell of a time doing ourselves, and we're going to help him feel better about himself. Add to that the fact that we've made some damned good friends. Everybody wins. "I'm not ready to ask him to sit on the Board, yet, but I think we should create a panel of 'Advisors' - well known Educators, Doctors, and maybe even Politicians. He'd be in that group." "I'm sure that'd make him very happy," I said. "I don't know what the hell to do about those cousins of mine," Eric said, changing the subject. "If we knew the 'real story' we could plan. If they're gay like I think they are, we could plan a party for New Year's Eve. If they're straight, I haven't the foggiest notion what to do with them," he laughed. "Left THAT world a long time ago. One thing I AM going to do is rent a big van so I can haul 'em around." "We'll just play it by ear, it'll work out," I assured him. Our conversation wandered. "Do you think the 'Widows' were serious about going on another cruise?" he asked. "Hard to tell." "I can see it all now, two queers and a dozen of the biggest rednecks in Texas!" - - - - - We'd already been through the agony of Christmas shopping. No cars this year, the garage was already overflowing and about all we did was drive back and forth to work anyway. Eric, as usual, was impossible. Since they already had his measurements, I had Brioni in Rome make him a dozen shirts in various fabrics and colors, and had hit the toy stores and Adult bookstores for some gag gifts. We'd discussed this a year ago, so I contacted the San Diego Zoo. They were planning a new, more natural, enclosure for the elephants that they hadn't yet found funds for. I agreed to donate the money for it, with the stipulation that there wasn't to be any big press announcement, and that the discreet placque on the exhibit would say only "A Gift from Eric Lundborg". The zoo provided me with a duplicate of the placque, something that I'd be able to give to Eric. It would be called "Elephant Oasis". It was in a presentation box and Mary wrapped it for me. I didn't have a clue what to get the girls. Eric was at a loss too, until he came up with an idea. "Let's follow through with the threat I made in France," he said. "We can get them the jewelry they borrowed from Harry Winston, but we'll only charge half of it to you, I'll take care of the other half." "Isn't that a lot of money?" I asked. "I can afford it," he said, chuckling, his eyes twinkling, "and I KNOW you can!" When it arrived, we split it into four groups, one for each of them from each of us. Mary wrapped them in huge boxes with bricks in the bottom, filling the empty space with stuffed animals we'd gotten at the toy store. - - - - - On Christmas Day, the routine was changed from past years. It was decided that we'd wait until everyone was there until we opened presents. After breakfast, Eric suggested that we take a look at the mountain of Christmas Cards we'd received. This was something I hadn't done since I'd met him, just taking the pile to my secretary so she could update my list. Eric's mother had sent over the cards that'd come to his old address, and Nancy had sent home the ones from my friends that had come to the office. Those, plus the ones we got at home made quite a pile. Some were addressed to me only, some were addressed to Eric, but the vast majority were addressed to both of us. As we started through them, Eric organized them into piles, one for his friends that I didn't know, one for mine that he didn't know and business associates, and one for OUR friends. As we went through them, we discussed the senders. "You've gotta meet this guy," Eric said on several occasions. I had a few comments of my own. In a lot of ways, it was like dredging up the past, but we were sharing it and learning more about each other as a result. Mixed in were several from my Northern California cousins. That was a first! I hadn't heard from them in years, and the most amazing part was that they were addressed to both of us. Eric and I discussed this surprise. "I believe they're extending an olive branch," he said. "Why the sudden flip-flop?" I asked, "they've been ignoring me for years." "Maybe, at your Aunt's funeral, they saw that you weren't an ogre waiting to pounce on their young sons," he giggled. "I don't know..." "They must have hurt you pretty badly," he said, putting his arm around me. "When you're told, flat out, that you're not welcome around 'decent people', yeah, that hurts," I said. "Was it any of these who said that?" he asked, pointing at the pile. "No, their parents, but they went along with it for almost twenty years." "Can you forgive?" "Not just like that," I snapped my fingers. "It's going to take some time. You don't get over being shunned for that long overnight, at least I don't. Even if they've changed their tune, I think they were a bunch of goddam wusses for going along in the first place." "Give it a try," he suggested. "We'll invite 'em to Tina's wedding, see what kind of tacky gifts they send her and see if they show up. That'll be a start." I was by no means convinced. Eric just grinned at me and gave me a quick peck on the cheek. How could I resist this guy? - - - - - Eric's parents arrived with a carload of presents. Spence was right behind with so many he had to make several trips. With the presents around the tree and all nine of us settled with drinks, except Tina, of course, Eric and Rick volunteered to play Santa Claus and distribute them. It took a while, and the piles around each of us grew and grew. If we'd taken turns opening our presents, it would have taken all night, so Eric announced "Dig in!" to everybody. Spence tore into his like the little kid he was. Eric was just as eager. I watched for a few minutes then dug in myself. I set the ones from Eric aside to open last, and noticed that he had done the same thing. The girls, however, opened the ones from us first. Tina was first to get her present from Eric, open. The stuffed animals gave her a puzzled look on her face. "Keep digging," Eric advised her. When she found the Harry Winston box, she squealed like a little girl. Everybody stopped to watch her open it. When she got the case open, her eyes got big as saucers. She took a close look, jumped up and ran over to Eric for a big kiss on the cheek. "Hope you charged it to Dad," she giggled. Annie was a little less subdued. Stuffed animals flew in all directions. Hans tried to catch them, mostly successfully. When she got to the box, she opened it carefully, looked at the contents closely, closed the box and walked over to Eric. "You may be my mean old stepmother, but I sure do love you," she said, taking him into her arms. "Hey, watch it, he's MINE!" I told her. After that, they saved the ones from me for last. It was getting to the bottom of the pile and time for me to open the ones from Eric. I put the one labeled "Open in private" aside, and went for a large flat one. It appeared to be a couple of picture frames. I pulled one out, and it was a framed Stock Certificate. On closer examination, I realized what it was - the CLP Railroad Stock that had once belonged to my Great-Grandfather. The second was another Certificate, but showed the back, showing who the stock had been transferred to, and witnessed by one Sadie Carruthers, either the Madam or one of the "Girls", I assumed. "These are pieces of family history!" I told Eric, and grabbed him in a big hug. "I'll give you the kiss later," I whispered in his ear. It was Eric's turn. He opened one of the small packages first, one of the placques. "What is this?" he asked. "A duplicate of that one will hang on the Elephants' new home at the San Diego Zoo," I told him. Eric wasn't the least bit inhibited. He grabbed me and planted one right on my lips. "What was THAT all about?" his mother asked. "Dave gave the San Diego Zoo a new Elephant enclosure in my name," he explained, taking the placque over to show her. Annie and Tina were down to my gifts. When they saw more animals, the animals went flying. They found the boxes, opened them, took a quick look then swarmed all over me. "We've gotta get a safe to keep these in," Annie commented. "We've already got one," I told her. "I'll show you later." When he could, Eric whispered in my ear "The safe in our bedroom is full of you know what!" "Relax," I told him, laughing. "We've got a bigger one in the den." My last present was from Eric. It was a rolled-up parchment scroll announcing that the largest donation in their history had been made to CRES in my name. I turned to Eric who was beaming. "Great minds..." and a big hug. - - - - - It wasn't until we went to bed that I opened his "private" gift and gave him the one I'd picked up at the dirty bookstore. Mine was a huge selection of "toys". Dildos in every imaginable size and shape, some with vibrators and others that moved in all sorts of weird ways. "These'll be fun to play with, but when we do some serious lovin', I want the real thing," I told him, patting his bulging crotch. His box was an assortment of lubes and other "accessories". "With all this stuff," he giggled, "I think it's playtime!" "Not tonight, I want to get SERIOUS!" His smile, and the kiss we shared told me that he agreed. To be continued. AUTHOR'S NOTE: I appreciate hearing your comments on the story, my writing, and anything you would like to offer - good or not so good. Send me a message at orrinrush@yahoo.com All messages answered.