Date: Sat, 15 Jun 2019 09:17:42 -0700 From: Paul Landerman Subject: Wilfred chapter 7 This is a work of fiction; any resemblance to persons or events is coincidental. This work is copyright by the author and may not be copied in any form except by express written permission. Please send me any comments you may have at pjwltx9@gmail.com You may also enjoy my other story series on nifty.org at the "Relationships" category; the story series title is "The Old Fag". Please make a contribution to nifty to continue enjoying this resource. Chapter Seven: Graduation I was sitting between my parents watching my lover graduate with his MBA at the University of Utah; we were seated behind his family. David's mother and father and his step-mother, and his two sisters had all met us for lunch and then we went up the hill to the university for the commencement ceremonies. It was a little stiff at lunch; his parents were not ready for the kind of family David and I were building, even though they were actually very polite through lunch, but obviously uncomfortable. My parents, god bless them, were very cordial and friendly and relaxed. The next afternoon at precisely 2 PM, I was scanning the crowd in the university arena to find all of the folks, for my graduation from law school, also at the University of Utah. I was told later that Mom and Dad were seated together with Scott and his fiancé on one side, and Emily and her husband on the other side, and David's father next to them. I guess it was a bit too much after all for David's mother to sit through the ceremony with the in-laws a second time. The years of schooling, including graduate school, had managed to test us considerably. I had graduated from Sacramento State University in California, with a double major in business management and English, and a minor in philosophy, and applied immediately for law school. David had finished Brigham Young University a year ahead of me with a degree in economics and had spent a year as an intern at the Federal Reserve Bank branch in Salt Lake City, before beginning his master's degree in business administration with an emphasis in economics and international finance. We saw each other often in those years, trading the major holidays like Christmas and Thanksgiving back and forth between our families. Neither of us ever felt comfortable at his mother's house, and spent a lot of time with his father instead. While we were in undergrad, we both worked at the farm in California, and Dad was great about having us do so; we did not get rich but it was just fun to be together. I don't think my grandparents ever got used to the idea of their grandson being part of a gay couple, so I was truly surprised the day my Grandma Woodruff asked if she could talk to us. "David, I am sorry I do not know you better, but from what I have observed, you are a truly remarkable man, and it appears you are in love with my grandson. " We both blushed as she continued, "And, boys, that is a good thing. This old world is a hard scrabble place, and if you don't have love to help you get through it, it's even tougher." She wiped a tear from her eye, and then continued: "My husband, who was also named David, would be really proud of both of you. It takes a great deal to be honest in the face of the world's opposition, but you two seem to be OK with all of that. Now I am not saying it is the proper thing to be doing in the church's eyes, you know, but Heaven help me, I don't think I have seen very many other couples that have as much love as you two. So, I want you to know I am proud of you, and you have my blessing, and if my David was here, you could count on his as well." That was probably the most remarkable thing I had ever heard her say. I was crying, and David wrapped an arm around me, and we both said thanks to her, and she got up chuckling and trotted off to the kitchen to get a late afternoon snack. We all in the family were supposed to ignore the fact that Grandma Woodruff observed the British tradition of afternoon tea, and never stopped to consider it was against the rules for Mormons to drink tea. She was my Grandma and by god was welcome to do as she pleased. "This is a very special family, my love" David said. "Yes, it is, thanks David." By the time we had both graduated with our advanced degrees, we already had a plan to live in Salt Lake City for a while, as David began his career there as an economic analyst for the Federal Reserve Bank. We rented a ramshackle old house in the Avenues section near downtown, and I began looking for jobs with law firms. I wanted to be involved in corporate law, instead of trial law, and was able to get three interviews with top firms. Being Salt Lake City, we did not expect to be welcomed as a gay couple into the business world, so we down-played that aspect throughout the job searching process. The first big test came in the early fall when David had to attend a reception at the Bank for the Ambassador from Japan. Because of his Japanese language ability, and his minor in Japanese at BYU, he was expected to be "front and center" during the reception, and he was directed to bring his "significant other" as well. We thought about it a lot, and finally decided to bite the bullet and go together as the true couple that we were, hoping that a government agency like the Bank would be probably more welcoming to us than maybe the law firm. Dressed in our tuxedos, we stepped out of the car in the valet parking and took deep breaths. The general manager of the Salt Lake City branch of the Federal Reserve Bank was a man named Campbell. I am sure he was no relation, because when David introduced me, he had a distinct New York City accent. We chatted for only a moment, and scuttled off to find a corner to hide in with drinks in our hands. Within a half hour the Japanese Ambassador had been introduced to everyone and the general manager was trying to find David to introduce him, and so our time alone together was up. He introduced us both, and I was impressed, and when David bowed to the Ambassador, he was surprised, and began speaking in Japanese to David, and from that moment on the ice was broken. David introduced me as well, and did so in Japanese, and the three of us chatted for almost twenty minutes, and had a very nice time. It turned out that the Ambassador had a roommate in college at Waseda, the top private university in Japan, who was a Mormon, and so we had a few minutes to laugh together about the challenges of being a church member in that society. By the time we went home, we were both relieved to be out of the stress, and also very relieved that the event had been relatively unremarkable as possibly gay-hostile. When I began working at Jones, Summerhays, and Klien, the third largest firm in the city, I was of course the brand new lawyer and given tons of background research to do for various clients. Because the firm represented many of the national and international firms who had major operations in Utah, we were very busy and always had clients visiting from out of state. Occasionally, we held receptions for those clients, usually at one of the major hotels in the downtown area. If it was a client for whom I was doing research, I was expected to be in attendance, which usually happened at least twice a month. When the first major reception came along in the early winter for which I was asked to bring my "significant other", I felt it necessary to have a private chat with my boss. David Summerhays was the senior partner in charge of international clients, and represented banks, insurance companies, and a spectrum of corporations listed on the NYSE. He was nearly sixty years old, had a great mane of snow white hair, always wore tweeds, and looked more like a law professor than one of the fiercest corporate lawyers west of the Mississippi River. He reminded me of my Grandpa Woodruff. When I entered his office I was already shaking. When I asked to speak with him, he nearly shouted "Make it brief" and I plunged into my little story about the coming reception for our client, and that my significant other was David Branson from the Federal Reserve. "Great Scot, Campbell, you mean to tell me that someone from the Federal Reserve is coming to this affair?" "Yes sir." "Well that's just grand, have him invite the branch manager." "Yes sir." And I just stood there, frozen in place. "Anything else Campbell?" "Uhm, no sir." "Right then." And I slowly turned and left and seemingly crawled back to my office, stunned for so many reasons. I got David on the phone immediately, and explained what happened, and he started laughing. "I should have bet you" he said. When I calmed down, he said he would make sure the branch manager got the notice, and I said I would probably have to hand-carry an invitation over from the firm, knowing Summerhays as I did. He said he would notify the front guards, and I was on my way in less than an hour. Three nights later, again dressed in tuxedos, we were in the crowded reception room of the Sheraton downtown, and I was face to face with David Summerhays, his wife, who reminded me of Bessie Smith, and the branch manager of the Federal Reserve Bank, and his wife, who already knew both David and me. Summerhays was pleased I had pulled this off, and grabbed my elbow and tried to whisper, and I am sure only a few people twelve floors down on the street heard him, "Meet me for breakfast at Lamb's Grill, 7 sharp." The next morning David Summerhays addressed me as if we had known each other all of our lives, but then launched into grilling me about my family and my personal background. He knew very little about me outside of the resumé, and the work I had accomplished in the past few months, and decided he wanted to try to groom me for his section chief as soon as I had a couple of years of experience. I was thrilled of course, and wondered if this meant that I could get some more substantial work other than research, and he laughed. "Legal work is always heavy on research Campbell, don't forget that. If you do not know absolutely everything about a case or about a client, fold up your tent and go home." I had invited David to meet for a late lunch/early dinner downtown, and we got together shortly before 6 PM, at the University Club. The law firm had a membership there, and as long as I was willing to reimburse the firm when I used it for personal reasons, it was allowed. We had a gorgeous view of the city as the sun was setting, and the late fall weather was spectacular. David told me his father had a friend who owned a cabin up in one of the canyons on the way to the ski resorts, and we ought to try to snag it for a weekend as soon as we both got caught up on work. We decided to stay in the city for Christmas, and then go to Sacramento for New Year's. "David, a long time ago you asked me if in twenty years it will be the same. So now I have a question for you. Is it the same?" "No babe, absolutely not." I was disappointed. Maybe it showed on my face, because he quickly continued "It is so much better than I ever imagined, I cannot believe it sometimes. I get off the bus in the morning downtown to go to work, and wonder if I am living in a dream." "David, I love you intensely, and this is the greatest time in my life, our lives. I am so happy. Thank you for being a perfect husband." "Pauly, about the husband thing. I have a question." "Yes sir?" "Do we want to get married? Do you want to get married?" "Wow." "My favorite word." "Well you should be used to it by now, how many years has it been?" "Umh, don't remember." "Jerk." He laughed, and the waiter suddenly took an interest in us, and shuffled over to see if we needed anything. "Yes, actually, a bottle of champagne." "David?" "Babe, I know it is not our anniversary or anything like that, but you make me so happy that I feel like every day that it cannot get any better, and then you surprise me and it gets better." "I love you." "I love you more." "What?" I put my fork down. I stared at him. "Paul, my whole life changed because of you. I owe you my life. Thank you for that, and I love you for doing that for me, making that possible for me. So, I love you more." "Silly." The champagne arrived, and we tapped our glasses together and took a sip. I began laughing. "What?" "Oh, nothing much, just two Mormon boys celebrating their gay love affair high over Salt Lake City with glasses of champagne." "You are crazy." "Crazy about you." "I know; I love you." The winter started in with a howling blizzard a week later. It was three weeks before Thanksgiving, and we had invited Scott and his fiancé to spend the holiday with us, as well as David's family. His mother had declined, which made me sad. I needed to figure out a way to get that woman alone and have a serious heart-to-heart with her some day, I decided. Thanksgiving was spectacular. Scott and his fiancé were a lot of fun, as Scott always can be, and he was a smart enough man to choose a woman who not only complemented his personality and his viewpoint, but had her own great sense of humor as well. It was pretty evident that she was comfortable with us, the big gay in-laws, so dinner was a lot of fun. David's father and step-mother brought his old dog, Cindy the Labrador, and we had a great time. I asked Scott to bless the food as we stood together around the table, and he started into an appropriate Mormon-style prayer, and then he said "And we are thankful for this goofy big old gay couple for inviting us into their home" and all of us broke up laughing. It was over. "Amen!" we all chorused. "OK, everybody, have a seat and dig in" David said. "Guess we will be safe enough, most of the prayer got finished." David kissed me, and said "You know, Scott is right, we have a great big old goofy gay family, so there!" The day was beautiful, the weather was wonderful, crisp and clear, and the few remaining snow drifts from the recent storm were stuck in the shadows, and we all took a walk after dinner. David's family left a few minutes later, not wanting to stay for dessert, so by the time we settled down in the living room with Scott and Cindy (what a coincidence!) I was ready for a nap. David insisted on serving the desserts, so I was content to just watch him, proud of the man I had in my life. I was thinking about our unfinished conversation of a few weeks earlier, about getting married. It seemed to me to be the right thing to do, if we could figure out the arrangements. Which states recognized gay marriage? It was too bad that California had bungled that one up, with their weird citizen-proposed laws to be voted on. There could be New York or Massachusetts, or Vermont maybe. I guess I dozed off, because Scott was shouting my name, and holding a phone in my direction. "Mom and Dad are on the phone Gay-Ball, wake up!" I spoke to my folks, thanked them for calling, got the whole laundry list of how everyone was doing at home, especially Emily and her husband, and the big news was that Emily was pregnant. She wanted us to be present at the blessing ceremony at their church in Sacramento, next spring. I assured them we would be there, and thanked them again for everything they had done for me and for David, and called out to find him so he could say hello as well. I realized that this moment was the exact place I had always wanted to be. David and I had decided to make an offer on purchasing the home we were renting, and the landlord hemmed and hawed, so we began looking at other properties. We knew we wanted to stay in that neighborhood, in the Avenues section of town, close to work for both of us. It was just after Christmas when the real estate agent called to say that the landlord for our rental home had made a counter offer, and could we drop by the real estate office right after the holidays. Since we had decided to remain in town for Christmas and then go out to California for New Years, we made an appointment for January 5th. The day after Christmas we went up in the mountains to a cabin in Brighton Canyon we had managed to arrange for two nights and had a wonderful time. While we were there, David reminded me of the first night we spent together in that blizzard in Japan. "Baby, I doubt you have to remind me of it, I will probably never forget it." "Me too," and he kissed me. We made love on the big shag rug in front of the fireplace, and afterwards, cuddled together in front of the fire, laying on my back with my love half laying over me and kissing me, he said "I wonder how different that night may have been if we had had this atmosphere instead of the freezing cold Japanese missionary apartment?" "Well," I mused, either we would not have ever come together, or, we would have gone home on the next airplane out of Sendai." David laughed. "I guess we were just both lucky enough to be in the right place, at the right time!" "Thank god," I said. We kissed again, and I was falling asleep in the arms of the most beautiful man I had ever known. When we awoke, a fresh snowfall had covered the world around us, and we took a hike after breakfast further up the narrow road through the little clutch of cabins, and found a cliff that allowed us to see far down the canyon toward the west. It was a brilliant day, and we stood there holding each other in the breathtaking sight of Nature's beauty. By the time we got home the next day, we were ready for a hot dinner of ranchero-style beef stew, biscuits, and red wine. David suddenly said something over dinner that night that intrigued me. "Do you miss the church?" "Baby, you are my religion. There is nothing to miss." "Thanks, but really, I mean it. Is there something missing in our lives?" "I have never thought so; I do not have any arguments with the Mormon Church, we knew the rules even as a young missionary. The church is entitled to decide what the rules are for membership in their little club, and when we stepped over that line, I think we were both big boys and already knew the consequences." David looked at me quizzically, and continued "Isn't it odd that they have never come after us to excommunicate either of us or both of us?" "I guess so, never thought much about it. I suppose if we were a high-profile gay couple or highly involved in politics, gay or otherwise, maybe it would have been brought to their attention, but so far I guess we really do not matter to them." "Lucky, I guess," David said, and then very quietly said "Sometimes I miss it, just a little." "Baby, we can always go back if you want." "Maybe we should give it a try." It seemed interesting to me that after all this time together as a couple, my husband would bring up our church status. He is such a deep guy, so interesting; I wondered what other depths inside of him I had not seen as yet. I really never thought David was hiding anything from me, he truly was without guile, I never suspected him of any kind of deception. "Well, then when we go to Sacramento tomorrow, let's plan on attending with Mom and Dad." "OK, babe, love to." He kissed me, and we spent the rest of the evening quietly, packing for our early flight to California, and making sure all of the things in the house had been taken care of for our few days absence. Just before falling asleep, I turned to my lover in bed and I said, "David, do you realize what we have? Do you realize how lucky we are?" "I realized a long time ago how lucky I am, but what exactly are you talking about? "Well, I mean, you probably understand this far better than me, you are the economist, after all, but do you realize how rare it is for us to be able to pull this thing together, this gay life, this couple thing, to be together, to get along so well, to have so much positive stuff in our lives, even with your Mom's attitude, we have great families, we love each other, we have never had a quarrel, we understand each other tons better than I think many other couples, gay or straight, and we just seem to be sailing on a very smooth sea." "Paul, baby, thank you for saying all of that, but what brought this on? What's really on your mind?" "Well, there is a gay guy in another section of the law firm, about our age, who just dumped his boyfriend without warning and moved in with a man at least fifteen years older than himself, into some mansion up in Olympus Cove, and I wonder what goes through your mind, what kind of compromises do you have to make with your own heart and soul, what kind of battle occurs in the `silent secret chambers of the soul', as President David O. McKay put it, what do you have to sacrifice of your dignity, personal pride, self worth, and so forth, what lies do you have to tell yourself or even to that other guy, to accept that kind of arrangement, to move in with a man whom you do not love, whom you barely know if at all, and to accept his financial generosity and live with the fear that someday, perhaps in the middle of the night, that guy may suddenly realize you are just manipulating him, and toss your ass out on the street with the trash?" "Wow." "There you go using my word again." "Better get it copyrighted, I warned you about that a decade ago." "But David do you see my point?" "Not really baby, I see what you are saying about that other gay couple, but how does that apply to us? Have I done anything that warned you that you better get ready to move out?" "Absolutely not, in fact, when I first heard the rumors in the firm, I thought of you, and of us, instantly, and almost dropped to my knees at that moment in my office and thanked Heavenly Father for all that we have, all that you are, all that you have given me and all that you have sacrificed to be together like we are right now." "Paul, if I have failed to say this before, or if I have failed to say this enough, I love you. Sorry, Wilford old chum, you are stuck with me." He grabbed me and held me tightly, and we kissed. "Now please stop worrying and get some sleep; that cab is going to be here awfully early in the morning." "It is morning, love." He groaned.