Date: Tue, 11 Apr 2023 21:33:32 -0600
From: Paul Landerman <paul.landerman@gmail.com>
Subject: Robin Layton Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

It seems that as children, we are always looking forward, and we cannot
wait until we reach some magical pinnacle: when we turn 12 so we can join
the girl scouts or when we turn 14 so we can be in middle school or when we
become 18 and can graduate high school and leave home and venture out into
the big world on our own, or the most magical of all, when we turn 21 and
are suddenly anointed as an official adult.

So now that he was seeing the big world from the inside of protective
custody of the Federal Marshall's holding facility, Diego was truly wishing
he was 12 again. Back before all of the criminal gangs in Guatemala took
over the country, and ran everything except the national government. Back
when his mother and father were still together, and he could enjoy
Abuelita's homemade tortillas every Sunday. Back when he played futbol in
the dusty streets of his village with the other boys, and served the parish
priest as an altar boy, for which he was able to sneak drinks of the
sacramental wine.

He had spent three days in the federal immigration court, waiting for the
judge to appoint an attorney to represent him, but nothing had happened, so
to move things along, the judge remanded Diego back into custody while
waiting to try to find a public defender. When that would happen was up to
the slowly grinding wheels of the federal system. Most likely, Diego Miguel
Andrade Dominguez would end up back in Guatemala within the year.

For Mario, similar thoughts occurred to him as he considered all of the
many phases of his own magical life, first as the care-free youngest son in
his family In Argentina, then as a college student in Buenos Aires sowing
his wild oats, which meant fucking every hole he could manage, and then
running away from home, in a fashion, and landing on the coast of the
Golden State.

His marriage to Mason, Mason's death, and his own long journey around the
world mourning his partner, and then his role as the senior partner of the
law firm, all added to the character he had become: a long and beautiful
life, crowned now with his marriage to Peter, the crazy California boy who
had an entirely different point of view than Mario about how the world
worked and what the world owes us, or, conversely, what we owe to each
other as well as to the world.

Simon's point of view, as the New Year approached, was somewhat similar to
Mario; born and raised in South Africa during apartheid, and watching the
upheaval in politics, race relations, the structure of the government and
the entire social system, Simon had watched from the sidelines as a product
of the old Boer empire, not one of the privileged, but as a product of
their dynasty. He was White in a country where that was automatically the
most gifted of the classes; joining the Defence Force, he was treated
differently, he noticed, than were his fellow recruits who were Black or
Mixed.

The Mixed were the bottom rung on that ladder, because during apartheid, it
was illegal to mix the races. The 1948 novel by Alan Paton, Cry the Beloved
Country was testament to that ugly truth. Thinking forward, he was sure
that now that he had discovered Robin Layton, his life was going to make
another great change.

Robin was sitting astride a body board within sight of his bungalow in
Hermosa Beach, waiting for the next big wave to sweep him into the steep
sandy hillocks. How different this view, and the accompanying point of
view, than the years he had anticipated his future as a farm kid in central
Wisconsin. Corn, as far as he could see then, even from the lofty seat of
the John Deere tractor, was the limit of the known world. Grad school was a
world he had never heard of; college was merely a dream he had heard spoken
of in hushed terms by schoolteachers, and not one shared with him by the
school counselors or even his parents.

Robin's grandfather had been in the US Army stationed in Europe well after
WW2 had concluded, and when he found himself in a US military encampment in
the countryside of England, a pretty Portuguese girl serving in the camp
had caught his eye. Before he had time to think about it twice, he married
her and took her home to the farm in Wisconsin. That afforded him the
luxury of missing the Korean war.

Robin's father, a conscientious objector to the war in Vietnam, had married
a girl from the next town over, despite the objections of her retired
military father and his Portuguese wife. Soon they were a happy hippy
couple trying to raise two children as well as two dozen row crops of what
are now referred to as "organic" vegetables for sale in their road-side
fruit stand.

Stuart Warden, the nephew of Mason Taylor, had grown up on a farm in Idaho
Falls, within sight of the Wyoming mountain range known as the
Tetons. Stuart's family did not farm; his mother was married to an
insurance broker in the city, and Stuart was never burdened with farm
chores. The property they lived on was adjacent to the homestead of his
grandfather, which many years later Stuart would inherit. Still, the One
True Law of the eastern Idaho farm country of the Snake River valley was
that if you want anything to happen, do it yourself.

For that reason Stuart had managed to gain a full scholarship to college
and then had put himself through law school. Now one of the rising stars
among the attorneys who practiced in the federal court system in southern
California, Stuart imagined that he and his husband Raj would be able to
retire within the next ten years. They had no children, of course, but did
count many friends as well as Raj's niece and nephew, his sister Aneth's
two children.

As a practicing Hindu, Raj Acharya had never deviated from the path he had
been schooled in, in the mountainous state of Rajasthan in India. His
family was from the caste of Kshatriya, who served the courts and rulers
and governments as administrators and managers. He earned a degree in
industrial engineering in Delhi and then a master's in business
administration at USC while working as the chief of staff for the mayor of
Los Angeles; he was promoted to chief of staff for the governor of
California when the mayor won that office. Raj and Stuart were one of those
very rare `love at first sight' couples and had been devoted to each other
ever since being introduced by Stuart's uncle Mason Taylor.

Likewise, as a Hindu, Raj spent very little time imagining the future;
recent decades in Hindu practice had been influenced by the Buddhist
beliefs about fate being mitigated by our own actions. He had never spoken
with his husband about retirement, assuming that when that time came, they
would both instinctively know.

Scott, the twink whom Diego had fucked countless times, in the studio, in
the office, in bed, in the car and on a sand dune in La Paz, Baja
California, and once on a park bench in Hollywood, had no thoughts about
the future. He worried consistently about the bus schedule, and about the
infrequent gang assaults in the neighborhood two towns over from his
home. Scott's most current thoughts were about saving to buy a car.

David Branson, the husband of Paul Campbell, and chief economist of the San
Francisco branch Federal Reserve Bank, did think about retirement, and
wondered at least once a week if he and Paul would stay on the farm in
Sacramento. Since the death of Paul's father, Paul had become the general
manager of the family farming corporation, and had more or less given up
his law practice. Their two children, Bethany and Stephan, lived nearby,
and visited frequently, together with their own children. Having four
grandchildren was completely beyond David's wildest dreams; as a young
Mormon missionary in Japan, he could barely imagine graduating college let
alone being married to a lawyer and heading a department at the most
important central bank in the world.

He made a note in his day planner to speak with Paul soon about the range
of topics floating around in his head; on the train home to Sacramento from
the Bay, he edited the notes to include `birthdays for
grandkids'. Stephan's oldest son had just returned home from a Mormon
mission to Chile, and Bethany's son was getting ready to leave for a
mission to Portugal. Paul and David's two children, Bethany and Stephan,
had been borne to them by surrogate mothers; these two kids were truly a
heavenly gift, David considered, and he treated them as such for their
entire lives.

Paul Campbell was finishing his notations in the annual report to the
shareholders of the farming corporation which he headed and managed. Those
shareholders were himself and his husband David, his brother Scott and
Scott's wife Cindy, as well as his sister Emily and her husband Ted Gibson.
The farm had just finished its best year financially, and David and Paul
had kept their promise to Paul's grandfather to never go into debt. Every
expansion of the farm and the corporation came out of current revenues; the
report would outline all of that, but Paul included a few notes about
possible expansions he and David had discussed, such as looking for more
acreage to purchase in the surrounding communities.

Paul paused in his writing and his thinking; this farm, this place which
had provided him a home and a safe place to be raised and to raise his
children, and to nurture his marriage with his husband David, was sacred
ground. He wanted to preserve it for his children and grandchildren. His
parents and grandparents had worked their entire lives to make this dream a
reality, and Paul was deeply grateful to them for their sacrifices.

He was also immeasurably grateful to them for their understanding and
patience and acceptance of David and Paul's commitment to each other as a
gay couple. In a Mormon household, one which was only a few generations
down from one of the Mormon Church presidents, Paul was very cognizant of
the meaning of that sacrifice.1

The maître d' was also thinking of the New Year; he had contacted
the members of his jazz combo, and had a unanimous positive reaction. Simon
had already offered him $2,000 to play for the party at the restaurant, and
Clark was eager to have the chance to perform. It was not the money, it was
the chance to expand the combo's experience beyond the garden parties and
rest- home gigs which they were accustomed to.

Simon was going over the guest list once more; he wanted to check off all
of the RSVP's he had received. He called Peter to see if he or Mario had
received any more responses; tomorrow night was going to be very special
for Simon, and, he hoped, for Dr Robin Layton as well.

Everything else was ready: the alcohol had been delivered and was chilling;
the food had been delivered and the kitchen staff had already begun the
preparations. Simon would open the restaurant in the morning, with a flyer
which told customers that 6 PM was closing time for the special private
party that evening. There was a thrum, a vibration, a sensation which Simon
sensed, unlike any other party or holiday or event he had planned or
managed in the past. This was the big one; these people were all very
special to him, but of course there was one who was at the top of the list.

Simon had included in the party invitation that this event was "Black tie",
and so in the morning, after his coffee and a run around the block, and
showering and shaving, Robin dragged out his tuxedo and made sure
everything was ready. He laid out the suit on the bed, and unwrapped the
white shirt from the dry cleaner's package, and found the jewelry and bow
tie in his dresser.

Similar activities were being undertaken in two dozen more households
across California: Paul and David were on a flight from Sacramento to LAX,
Stuart and Raj were rolling down each other's tux with the lint brush, and
Yoshio Sato was nervously instructing his new husband, fresh from Osaka,
about the party, the people, the restaurant, the menu, and the California
way of doing things. Yuji Asakawa had only been in California for the six
months that he had been married to Yoshio, so there were many things he
felt he needed to learn. Perhaps the most important thing, he feared, was
the way gay men in California treated each other, as compared to Japan; he
had heard many rumors of orgies and open sex in gay bars and strip clubs
and was nervous about this party.

Terry Baylor and his husband, Alex Cipriani, were also in the midst of New
Year's Eve preparations; Alex was the youngest son of Los Angeles city
councilman Tony Cipriani, owner of a large construction company and alleged
mob boss. Terry was the only son of Ted Baylor, a founding co-partner of
the law firm Baylor, McLean and Garza, of which Mario Garza was still a
member.

Sam Stephenson and his husband, Mickey Clarke, were dressed early for the
party; Sam had been required to attend a different party in Beverly Hills
at the home of one of his clients, one of the muti-millionaire basketball
players in Los Angeles. They were preparing to excuse themselves about 9
PM; the host saw them to the door and asked Sam for some business cards,
because he wanted to share them with some of his teammates.

Mickey was already tired; he had experienced a very long season as a
consultant in the firm he shared with Raj. They had been partners with Ross
James, the former lover of Mason Taylor, as well as the former husband of
Joaquin Mendez. Following the death of Ross James, the partners had each
received a million dollar settlement from the life insurance policy the
firm had purchased. Mickey and Sam had very judiciously invested that money
with Stuart's investment advisor, the same firm which handled the Saudi
family.

Immediately after the closing of the restaurant at 6 PM, Simon threw
himself into arranging the interior for the party; he had rented a small
stage for the jazz combo, and at the opposite end of the room set up ten
tables and instructed the staff to begin setting out the china, silver, and
crystal. He then set up the buffet table against the far wall away from the
entrance, and brought out the red wines from the cooler. He made sure each
place setting included a water goblet as well as a wine glass, and that
each table had salt and pepper and flowers. Each place setting had a dinner
plate, a salad plate, a service plate for the seafood, and there was a
basket on each table for the seafood shells and claws.

By then it was time for the bread baskets to be set out on each table, and
soon it would be time to broil the oysters Rockefeller and to heat the
grill for the lamb kebobs and check on the prime rib in the oven.

No one was surprised that the first guest to open the door was Dr Robin
Layton; Simon ran to him and grabbed him in a big embrace and they
kissed. Robin brought a box of Godiva chocolates, and a bouquet of
flowers. Simon was not completely dressed for the party; he ran to his
office and threw on his formal shirt with the black studs, bow tie, and
adjusted the suspenders and cummerbund before adding his tuxedo
jacket. Robin kissed him again, and they shyly re-entered the party hall,
hand in hand.

Clark, the maître d' and jazz combo leader, handed each of them
their favorite cocktails, a Boulevardier for Robin and a Manhattan for
Simon. Simon had hired an extra bar tender for the evening, a friend of
Clark. The tip jar for the bar tenders already had several $50 bills in it.

Within minutes, Yoshio and his husband Yuji entered, each baring a gift
package; it is common practice in Japan to never visit a friend
empty-handed, the `omiyage' tradition. The boxes were wrapped in brightly
printed silk scarves; Simon had them placed on the far end of the bar. He
guided them to the bar and asked them what they liked to drink; both asked
for scotch neat. The bar tender opened a bottle of Suntory Hibiki, a
Japanese scotch that was competitive with any from the Old World; at $130 a
bottle, Yuji was impressed.

Mario, Peter, Sam, Mickey, Stuart and Raj were next in the door, followed
by Paul and David. Carlos Rivera and his husband Chris Martin were only a
few moments later, followed by Joaquin and Felipe. Alex Cipriani and Terry
Baylor came in after that, accompanied by Tad Carlyle and his husband Mike
Williams, and Phil Downey and his date Sean Devereaux.

Within minutes, the room was rocking with conversation and laughter, hugs
and kisses, and the mellow jazz music from the combo. At 11 PM, the waiters
began circulating with champagne flutes, and by 11:30 the room was, as
Simon said, well lubricated.

At just before midnight, the lights were dimmed and a mirrored disco ball
began turning, as the crowd counted down from 10 to the chiming of the
bells by the band, with joyous shouts of "Happy New Year!" as more kisses
and hugs were seen all across the room. Clark's band struck up Auld Lang
Syne, with everyone singing along. Robin kissed Simon first, long and hard,
and then kissed his neighbors, Stuart and Raj, as Simon kissed Peter and
Mario.

Paul and David were the first to exit; they had traveled the length of that
state to come to the party, and had booked a room in Santa Monica at
Loew's. Joaquin and Felipe followed them as they were also staying at the
new high-end Santa Monica hotel. By 2 AM, everyone had followed them out
the door with the exception of Peter and Mario; they thanked Simon for a
tremendous party, kissed both Robin and Simon, and exited.

After closing the restaurant and thanking Clark and his friends, Simon and
Robin dropped into the Mercedes which Robin had driven; they were standing
in the bedroom of Simon's apartment, holding each other, and Robin yawned
deeply. "Let's get you out of this beautiful tux, and get you into bed
before you fall down."

Simon did not object; he was exhausted. It would be well past dawn when he
would be able to open his eyes. When he did, he noticed Robin was gone, and
panicked.  He ran to the anteroom to look at the parking lot, and nearly
bumped into Robin who was holding two cups of coffee.

"Oh my god, I was scared..."

"Don't worry love, I'm right here. Have your coffee." Robin was smiling
from ear to ear.

"And," Robin continued, "I stayed all night, and I wanted to be the first
person to see you on this new year morning and wish you a wonderful new
year and to say I love you."

Simon gasped. "Oh my god" he whispered.

"Something wrong?"

Simon could not stop staring at Robin. "You said it."

"Said what."

"It."

"Yeah. But, it's true. I love you."

A large tear erupted from Simon, and traced down his cheek. He swiped his
fist across his face, set the coffee mug on the cocktail table, and stood
up to hug Robin again.

"Me too."

"Say it."

Simon was silent for a long moment, and then whispered "I love you."

They hugged again, and after the coffee had been finished, they headed back
to bed, this time to make love. They had given each other the joy of sex
many times, but this new year morning they were making love. Simon gave
himself to Robin first, enjoying the pleasurable pain of the grad school
professor's cock inside of his ass, and then, Simon took his turn at
fulfilling Robin's desire for a South African commando cock in his ass.

It was after 4 PM when Simon realized his phone had been shut off; he
examined it and found that Peter had called at least three times. Returning
the call, he told Robin they had been invited to brunch at the beach house,
and were already three hours late.

When they arrived at the famous historical gathering spot, they were
greeted by Paul and David, Stuart and Raj, Sam and Mickey, and Yoshio and
Yuji. Terry and Alex had already been and gone to fulfill family
obligations, and Tad and Mike had begged off due to opening their
restaurant in Pacific Palisades that afternoon.

When everyone had said hello and Simon and Robin had champagne flutes in
hand, Simon was seated and Robin stood and tapped his glass. "Since this is
the closest thing to family that any of us have, I am going to ask you,
collectively, as family, if I may make an announcement. I want you to know
that I have fallen in love, and that has been a big surprise to me, and it
has been a long time coming."

Turning to Simon he said "I love you. I want you for the rest of my life."

There was a collective shout, and applause, and everyone got to their feet
and surrounded Simon and Robin with hugs and kisses.

Peter said "You know, Robin, you must be magic, because this is the first
time in his life that anyone has captured his heart."

More shouts and applause, and more hugs.

"Thank god" Robin said.