Date: Thu, 30 Mar 2023 22:02:54 +0000 (UTC) From: Samuel Stefanik Subject: Stolen Love. Chapter 9 Hi there. I'm feeling a little better. I don't know if I'm getting older or what, but the colds just seem to hang on like they never want to leave. Anyway, in this chapter, Paul finally gets to meet the whole group at once. Let's see how he gets on. NOTE: I'm looking for a collaborator on another project. I need someone to bounce story and plot ideas off of and someone who can help me streamline my tales to better hold the audience's interest. If that sounds like you, email me...please. If you're younger than 18 or find these kinds of stories offensive, please close up now and have a great day! If you are of legal age and are interested, by all means keep going. I'll be glad to have you along for the journey. Please donate to Nifty. This is a great resource for great stories and a useful outlet to authors like me and readers like you. Crown Vic to a Parallel World: Stolen Love The third and final installment of the ongoing adventures of Church Philips 9 The Gathering and The Meal Paul and I entered the formal dining room to find Cellarius making a final check on the food on the sideboard. "I hope everything is up to standard, sir." He said as we approached. "I have dismissed the other servants for the evening with the exception of those that will clear up after the meal. Will ninety minutes be adequate?" The walls of the dining room were set to be clear, and the setting sun streamed into the west side of the room. It was obvious to me that the glass had been set to reduce the glare and filter the ultraviolet light so we could watch the sunset without hurting our eyes. The table was set with simple place settings for an informal family meal and the sideboard was set up as a buffet of innocuous American faire. It looked like a lot of food, but there were fifteen of us to eat and all were active adults with good appetites except for Joe and little Tobit. Joe wasn't active but he had a large appetite and Tobit was well along on solid food, but he played more than he ate. The sideboard held a roast turkey with stuffing, a roast beef, a spiral ham, baked potatoes, sweet potatoes, corn, green beans, cranberry sauce, carrots, and hot rolls with softened butter. There was also a tureen of vegetable soup and a big green salad. At the far end of the sideboard were several silver domes over more plates that I knew contained dessert. The domes would keep whatever needed to stay hot, hot and whatever needed to stay cold, cold for as long as they needed to. There were also several bottles of chilled wine, fruit juice, pitchers of ice water, and carafes of coffee for after the meal. "You went to an awful lot of trouble just for me." Paul muttered self-consciously toward the sideboard. "Sir," Cellarius addressed Paul crisply, "you are our guest. None of what you see before you qualifies as `trouble.' Please do not give it a second thought. If you think of it at all, you should view the fulfillment of your desires as an extension of your own magic, whatever power it is that you wield." Cellarius turned back to me to cut off any response or objection from Paul. "About the time frame, sir, will ninety minutes be sufficient?" "We're likely to get lost in memories of old times. Please make it a full two hours and check with me before you direct the staff to clean up." "Sir." The old butler acknowledged my request and strode quickly away. Paul watched him go until he was out of sight. "He takes himself quite seriously, doesn't he?" Paul asked after the butler left. I shook my head in the direction Paul was looking. "I've tried and tried to make him a member of the family. I've tried to pension him off. I even tried to get him to let us pick up after ourselves. There are more than enough people capable of clearing up after family meals. In the beginning, I would have tried to tell him to dismiss the staff for the night and we'd take care of the mess except he'd never allow it. He's kind of a tyrant as far as those things go. At some point, I gave up." I was getting ready to tell Paul an anecdote about Cellarius when Shawn came through the doors into the dining room. Paul and I were still facing the doors as Shawn entered and we saw him immediately. As soon as my husband walked in, I knew he'd dressed to tantalize me. Shawn wore a pair of white pants that fit him like a second skin. I guessed he was going `commando' because there was no underwear line. His shirt was so short, it barely met the top of his pants. The shirt was a form-fitting orange pullover with a black collar and short, black sleeves. On his feet, Shawn wore matte black six-inch platform stiletto heels that increased his five-ten to be exactly my height. The heels also served to tense all the ripe muscles in his powerful dancer's legs, from his calves to his perfect ass. He clacked across the black glass floor with the fluid grace of a natural athlete and positioned himself between Paul and me, facing Paul with his back to me. He did it so he could greet our guest and torture me at the same time. I heard Shawn's tenor voice as he said words of welcome to Paul, but none of the words penetrated into my mind. I was too busy having filthy fantasies about Shawn's lower half. My lower lip tingled as a strand of drool escaped my mouth and alerted me that the orifice had been hanging open since my husband entered the room. The wet strand barely missed streaking my shirt with an embarrassing stain. I slurped and swallowed and grabbed a napkin from the buffet to wipe up the floor. When I crouched down to wipe up my drool, I found myself at eye level with Shawn's ass. From up close, it was painfully obvious that Shawn wasn't wearing briefs under his pants. I very much wanted to bury my face between his white clad cheeks, and I lost myself in staring at them. My mind churned as it imagined the pleasure that perfect ass, and the rest of Shawn's perfect body, would bring to the both of us later on. Shawn turned to face me while I was still crouched down, his change of position switched my view from his ass to his bulging crotch. "Everything alright, love?" He asked through an expression of feigned innocence. I got to my feet and repeated Shawn's maneuver. I stepped between him and Paul, with my back to Paul. I used my broader frame to block Paul's view of Shawn while I kissed my husband like I was trying to suck him inside out. Shawn pushed me away, but I only allowed him to separate us by an inch before I paused to whisper to him. "You'll be lucky if I stop at ten." I said to refer to the number of orgasms I planned to give him and take from him later. He grinned a sensuous bedroom smile at me and slitted his frozen eyes. "Later, my love, food first." "Then the real feast." I whispered. "Boys, boys," a feminine voice admonished us from the direction of the door, "have some decorum in front of your guest. You can maul each other later." Another set of heels clacked its way into the dining room. I faced the sound reluctantly and saw my mother-in-law as she strode in. She was taller than usual, wearing her own pair of shining black platform stiletto heels. Hers were only slightly shorter than what Shawn wore. Lenis' long hair flowed down her back and fell to her waist like a cape. Her shimmering, high neck, maroon tube dress clung to her athletic curves and showed off her trim body. Her skirt ended just below her knees in a very modest cut but left enough of her firm legs exposed to be tantalizing to anyone with a taste for female flesh. Lenis made a beeline for Paul and moved well inside the speechless man's personal space. She leaned into him and put a playful hand on his chest as she greeted him very warmly. "You must be Paul." She purred. "The boys have told me so much about you. They did not tell me about your presence. You have quite an authoritative presence, Paul, and such a distinguished man." Lenis ran her fingers through Paul's thick, iron-grey hair, ruining his conservative left-parting and giving the man a dashing windblown look. "You must be Lenis." Paul said, his deep voice muted to a confidential volume in respect for her proximity. "I saw your picture earlier today." "Did you indeed?" She asked with her head inclined in Paul's direction, their foreheads almost touching. "I hope it was a flattering picture." "It was. You were arm in arm with your son, and I may add, looking very much his sister instead of his mother." Lenis laughed a reckless, ringing laugh that she shared with Shawn and leaned into Paul even closer than before. "You are a dear man, and we will be friends." She stepped away from him and turned to greet me and Shawn with far less enthusiasm than she'd used on Paul. She paused long enough to scrutinize Shawn's outfit. "I thought Andy was familiar with your sizes, son." She baited him. "From the fit of those clothes, perhaps you need to be measured again." Embarrassed pink rose in Shawn's cheeks as he answered his mother's gentle teasing. "Andy has the right measurements on file. I'm not sure what happened with this outfit." Lenis looked along her eyes at Shawn and spared a glance my way. "I think we know very well what happened, do we not, Church?" "Yes, Mom," I smiled at her in spite of myself, "and I'm very glad it did." "I am certain you are." She leaned into me and gripped my upper arm. "Yes, I am certain you are." "Is that an Andy Philips?" I asked my mother-in-law to change the subject. "I never wear anything else." Lenis smiled at my teasing. I routinely asked the residents at the estate if the clothes they wore were Andy Philips' clothes even though Andy supplied everyone with a collection at the turn of each fashion season. I did it half out of fun and half out of pride in my nephew. Lenis went along with my well-worn joke and asked about our outfits. "What, may I ask, are each of you this evening? The card in my pocket says that I am a Moray Eel." I thought about how Lenis had greeted Paul and smirked to myself at her outfit choice. `Perfect for a predator.' My mind laughed. "Clownfish." Shawn reported of his own outfit. I said that I was a Parrotfish and Paul announced he was a Lagoon Triggerfish. Our discussion was interrupted by the piercing squeals of a very small boy as the Ecclesia family entered the room. Mary and Bem walked side by side while little Tobit toddled along, hand-in-hand with his father. When the family drew close enough, Paul struggled down onto one arthritic knee to greet Tobit first. "Hello, little man. I'm Paul, what's your name?" The toddler cast a concerned look up at his father, who nodded back. "Go ahead...tell the nice man your name." Bem coaxed. "TO-bit!" The boy announced proudly. "I'm two." "Two?" Paul exclaimed through an indulgent smile. He patted the boy's blond head with his big paw. "Nice to meet you Tobit. Will you be my friend?" "Friend!" Tobit agreed. "Thank you, little man." Paul said and made a move to rise. He seemed to struggle and held a hopeful hand my way. "Little man...uh...young man, please." I picked him up with magic, as much for my amusement as for his, and set him on his feet. He smoothed his clothes and thanked me. Mary and Bem swapped familiar greetings with Paul and devolved into small talk. "It looks like fatherhood agrees with you, young man." Paul said to Bem. "You positively beam with delight." Paul was right. Ever since Tobit was born, Bem had worn a more or less permanent grin. If I didn't know him as well as I did, I would have suspected Bem was a few cents short of a dime with the way he smiled. Bem reached for Mary's hand with the one that wasn't clasped to his son's. "I didn't know it could be like this." Bem admitted. "I thought I was as happy as I could be with Mary and the girls, but now I have a son. I have a son, a child of my own...our own. We have a son. I'm holding hands with my son...and my lovely wife." He raised Mary's hand to his face and kissed the back of it. "My lovely wife." Bem repeated to her. "I'm so happy." "And it's fine to see you too, Mary." Paul added. "Parenthood, even round two of parenthood, seems to agree with you as well." "Yes, and pregnancy is much easier here." Mary agreed. "Shawn took care of my morning sickness and delivered our son with no pain at all. Our little `Bit' was no trouble." Mary anticipated the next question and answered it with a pat to her slightly swollen stomach. "This one is due in September." She looked up at our guest and seemed to have something else to share. "Paul...you called Bem, `young man.' I don't like to correct you, but my husband is ninety-one years old." Paul moved his eyes from Mary to stare at Bem. Bem seemed to feel the scrutiny and glanced at the floor, then back up at Paul. "It's true." He offered. Paul cast a pleading glance my way. "Does it ever make sense or are you still amazed all the time?" "Both." I admitted with a resigned shrug. "I think you eventually give up and stop questioning." Paul put his consternation into words. "Bem here doesn't look like he's even forty yet, and Mary looks younger now than I remember from when we knew each other on Earth." "I'll be fifty-four in June." Mary shared. "And you're pregnant at fifty-four." Paul shook his head. "This is truly a wonderous place." Lenis forced a subject change by asking the new arrivals what they were, referring to their outfits. Bem knelt down to ask his son if he remember what he was. Tobit was wearing a bright red onesie with a net design of white over the red. The boy thought with furious effort, then flung his hands in the air in celebration when he remembered. "STARFISH!" He exclaimed at the top of his shrill voice. "That's right, you're a starfish!" Bem celebrated with his boy. He stood up to speak with us again. "I'm an anemone." Bem said of his outfit. His slim body wore an orange buttoned-down shirt with short pink sleeves and a pair of tapered leg pink slacks and darker pink wedge heels. Mary was dressed in an outfit of the opposite color pattern, but her shirt was a flowing blouse that de-emphasized her baby-bump while her pants were snug to show off her fit and shapely legs. "I am also an anemone." She said and leaned close to her husband. "STARFISH!" Tobit shrilled again, apparently starved for attention. We all laughed at his outburst. He was a great kid. The side of Bem that he brought out, the retired special forces problem-solver who was ecstatically happy about spending his days playing with a two-year-old, was nothing short of a miracle. I was thrilled for all of them and very glad that the gamble of bringing Mary and her daughters to Solum had paid off so well. As if cued by that thought, Hannah, Leah, and Altus made their appearance. They walked in, three abreast with Altus in the middle. The boy had his arms over the shoulders of both girls like they were his possessions. The only thing that tarnished what I perceived was his `big man' act, was that he was two inches shorter than the twins' five-feet-nine. The three young people were dressed in matching one-piece bodysuits with medium blue torsos, canary yellow right arms and legs, and powder blue left arms and legs. Each wore low-rise, navy-blue wedge heels. I knew their outfits were based on a fish called a `Powder Blue Tang' as they'd worn them before. As usual, all three were fresh from the shower, had high color in their faces, and looked very much like they'd just been banging it out. Mary seemed concerned about how Paul would react to the sight of her provocatively dressed daughters and their equally provocatively dressed boyfriend. I guessed she was trying to decide if she should be embarrassed or not. Paul stepped forward and greeted the new arrivals without a hint of judgement on his face or in his voice. His was either the second finest poker face I'd ever seen, or Paul genuinely didn't have a problem with the clinging outfits or the three-way relationship. I guessed it was the latter much more than the former. "My, my," Paul said as he shook hands with the girls, "how you both have grown. You were so small when I saw you last. I am dreadfully sorry, girls, but my ability to tell you apart has not improved with the passage of time. I hope you'll forgive me." Paul finished greeting the twins and shook hands with Altus. "And you must be Altus, the boyfriend I've heard so much about. I saw your photo earlier, the one where you are being kissed by the lovely ladies here. Congratulations on your recent graduation, by the way. I'm told you all did quite well in school." The girls greeted Paul properly by using `mister' in front of his name like he'd asked. Altus decided to test my patience by questioning Paul's right to the additional title. "Bem is older than you and I just call him Bem. I don't see why I can't call you Paul." Paul maintained the placid expression of what I assumed had gone from genuine pleasure in being social, to a poker face to mask his annoyance at Altus' disrespect. Mary started to address the situation, but I cut her off. "Step into the hall with me, boy." I commanded and propelled young Altus from the room with my magic. My nieces mentally pleaded with me not to `get carried away.' I didn't answer them. In the corridor I sealed both Altus and myself in a small room of my magic. Altus faced me squarely, proudly, and stood in a loose stance with his arms at his sides, ready in case he needed to defend himself. It was clear he didn't know what I was capable of. "You and I need to come to an understanding." I explained to premise what I'd planned to say to the boy. "I love that man you just insulted, and I don't even like you. When we go back in that room, you WILL apologize to him, and you WILL show him proper respect because you are a guest in MY house and that's what I want you to do." The little prick puffed himself up and sneered at me. "You think you're tough just cause you're big, but you're not. I could take you." I shook my head, incredulous at the brazenness of the smug little prick. "I'm not tough, I don't have to be tough because I'm powerful." I wrapped the boy in my magic, lifted him off the floor until his face was right in mine, and squeezed his entire body just enough to let him know he was at my mercy. "You WILL apologize to MISTER Paul, and you will respect him, or I'll tear your little dick off and feed it to you. Shawn will fix you good as new, but you'll NEVER get rid of the memory of me feeding you your dick. Do you understand me?" The boy struggled against my magic. I squeezed him tighter to prove my point. All at once he seemed to realize his helplessness and he gaped at me. His eyes grew so wide that white showed all the way around the green iris. He looked like he was caught in a nightmare, and I was the monster who'd just been unmasked. I set the boy down and released enough of my magic so he could speak. "Say it." I commanded. "I'm sorry, Mister Church." He blurted with a voice that trembled in fear. I released the rest of my magic. Altus started to crumple to the floor like his legs wouldn't support him. I wrapped him in a bear hug to keep him from falling and to finish freaking him out. "Now, that we understand each other, we can be friends." I said to his ear. I stepped back from the embrace and released the magic around us. "Run along and mind what I said." Altus fled into the dining room, to the relative safety of the company of the twins. A few seconds later, I felt Shawn's suspicious surprise from the other room. I assumed that meant Altus was giving Paul a very heartfelt apology for his previous disrespect and Shawn wondered what I had done to the boy to make him change his ways so rapidly. I also heard the twins in my mind, as they joined forces to scold me for scaring their boyfriend. "We can handle him, Uncle Church." Their mind voices said in unison. "We would have gotten him to apologize without doing whatever you did." "Then prove it," I mentally scolded my nieces, "make sure it doesn't happen again. If he pops off like that a second time, there will be consequences." Both Hannah and Leah's minds withdrew from mine, and I snapped back to the world around me only to see my nephew and his boyfriend waiting for my attention. Both boys were dressed the same, in tapered pants and short-sleeve pullovers. Both had very light purple shirtfronts that darkened to a very deep, royal purple the further the color got away from this one light spot. Their shirts were trimmed with black, and they both wore black heels. I'd seen these outfits before as well and remembered that they were seahorses, though I forgot what kind. I almost asked Andy, since they were both horses, how they decided who rode who. The fact that Andy already had his arms crossed over his chest and was scowling at me made me hold back on my question. The scowl that Andy was scowling at me was quite a scowl. It was a scowl that his father would have been proud of. "I can't believe you threatened to make him eat his own dick." Andy scolded. I smiled at my nephew's anger and was readying my retort when I paused to wave to Met, who was passing us on his way to the dining room. I waited for him to get through the door before I challenged Andy. "My dear nephew, the matter is a simple one. This house and everything around it belongs to me and Shawn. You are all welcome to live here as much or as little as you like. I make no rules, but I demand respect. That little fuck embarrassed me in front of my guest and I decided I was not going to stand for it." Andy countered my explanation by saying, "you didn't have to threaten him with physical harm." "Since you're already reading my mind," I tapped on my forehead, "take a closer look and tell me if I threatened him, or if I promised him." Andy's scowl deepened. "You're crazy, Uncle Church. You'd really do it." "Honestly boys," I said as my anger receded, "I probably wouldn't ever do something as cruel as that. I'm not a monster. The point was to threaten the thing that little fuck holds most dear. His kind doesn't respond to rules or reason, but they usually respond to threats. As long as I get what I want, I really don't care about the details." "Pretty fucking ruthless, Uncle Church." Andy scolded me some more. "And you say he's not scary." Comet muttered from beside Andy. I grinned at my nephew's mousy boyfriend. "But you have nothing to fear from me, Com. I like you." Comet wrapped his arms around himself and hugged his body tightly like he was cold. He bumped Andy with his hip. "Does he?" He asked Andy. Andy answered reluctantly. "He does. He likes you at least enough not to make you eat your own dick." "See?" I threw my arms wide in Comet's direction. "I told you I like you. How about a hug?" Comet took two long steps away from me and fled into the dining room, giving me an extra-wide berth as he passed. "Why do you do that?" Andy demanded of me as Comet's footsteps died away. "Because it's fun." I lied. The real reason I did it was because I didn't like that Comet was afraid of me. For a time, I'd tried to be very accessible to the boy in the hopes that a congenial personality would soothe his worries. When that didn't work, I got mad and fucked with him every chance I got. It wasn't the right thing to do, but it was what I had chosen to do. I didn't bother explaining all that to Andy, because I was certain he wouldn't understand. I was just as certain that he already knew all that and had just asked the question out of frustration with my actions. I threw my arm around my nephew's shoulders and walked him into the dining room. He squirmed out from under me as soon as we crossed the threshold and hurried over to where Comet was already greeting Paul. I took my time sidling up to the group. When I did, I saw that Altus was hovering nearby. He seemed to be waiting for something, but I didn't know what it was. When there was a gap in the conversation, Altus jumped in and addressed Paul. "Mister Paul, sir, so about before...we're OK now? Right?" "Yes, young man, certainly." Paul agreed with a voice full of happy reconciliation. "Nice of you to worry, but I assure you we are just fine. No need for the `sir' by the way, young man. Mister Paul is quite enough." "Thank you, sir, Mister Paul sir...uh...ahem." Altus stammered with one eye on Paul and the other on me. I gave the boy a covert thumbs up and received a relieved nod in return. With that small unpleasantness settled, I stood at the edge of the group and zoned out for several minutes. I was content to let the conversation go on around me without including me. It had already been a busy and somewhat emotional day and I looked forward to a relaxing dinner followed by some serious fucking with my husband. I hoped that the next two weeks that Shawn had taken off would be good ones. I hoped the festivities that my brain was busy choreographing for later would be the start of a new and wonderful period in my relationship with him. Shawn had acknowledged that he hadn't been around much lately, and he'd even apologized for it. He asked me to trust him. `That's all I can do.' I thought to myself. `The years we've been together have taught me that I should trust Shawn always and in all things. If he says it will be OK, then it will be OK. I just have to wait until that comes to pass.' An urgent, high, quavering voice snapped me out of my thoughts and returned my attention to the conversation of the group. I looked to see that, while I'd been mentally checked out, Cass had entered the room and approached Paul. He was urgently tugging on Paul's shirtsleeve like a spoiled child might. Paul indulged the old man by providing Cass with his undivided attention. Cass took advantage to press Paul about his favorite subject, Bem. "Have you met my boy?" Cass urged Paul. "Have you met my Bem." "Yes, yes...Bem and I are well acquainted. We are old friends actually." "Are you?" Cass looked at Paul along his eyes like he didn't believe him. "So, you know all about him, you know all about my Bem and his accomplishments. You already know how he saved the world and built a great fortune and managed a rock band and met God and started a new religion. I daresay you already know all about the things my Bem has done." Paul stroked his wide jaw with thoughtful fingers. "I admit, I didn't know that your son had met God." Cass nodded an insistent head. "How do you think he knows what he knows? Who do you think told him all the rules? My Bem," Cass beamed at his son, "my Bem met God and God told him how everything works." Paul smiled with his entire face. I saw that he was enjoying himself, and I waited to see how he was going to handle Cass and more of his extraordinary theology. Paul rubbed his big hands together like he was getting into the conversation and shot a question at Cass. "I thought God told Moses the rules." Cass coughed a single dry cough and waved an impatient hand in the air like he was fanning away cigarette smoke. "Moses...whoever heard of Moses?" Cass indignantly dismissed one of The Bible's most famous profits. "You'd be surprised." Paul replied through a grin. "I certainly would." Cass agreed with what he thought Paul had said. "I certainly would be surprised if anyone heard of Moses. What did your Moses ever do for anyone? My Bem on the other hand..." Bem broke into the conversation that seemed to be getting ready to become a dissertation of Bem's many accomplishments. "Father, please." Bem begged and rushed to put a calming hand on the old man's shoulder. "Please father, I know you love me, and you want to be proud of me, but pride is a deadly sin." "Nonsense, my boy." Cass insisted in a voice that gained an octave as it gained vehemence. "That's nonsense. I don't like to contradict you, because it is your religion after all, but I don't see that, no I don't see that at all. How can it be? How can it be a sin to be proud of your own dear son? No, I disagree that pride is a sin. The next time you talk to that Jesus Christ of yours, you tell him I said so." "Father...father please." Bem begged Cass to calm down. Cass seemed ready to launch himself into an oration in defense of his pride for his son, but he allowed himself to be quieted. "As you say, my boy. Getting hungry anyway. I suppose it isn't too much to ask that an old man be given a plate of food around here." Bem looked at me with eyes that pleaded for help. I gave him what I could. I checked to see that almost everyone was present and looked outside to see that the sun was just about to slip beneath the horizon. My phone said it was ten after seven and I'd planned for dinner to start at seven. I called everyone to the table. "Everyone let's take our seats please." I said to the crowd. "I'm sure Joe will be along shortly and then we can eat." Cellarius and I had collaborated the day before on the seating arrangement and everyone had a little name tag at their appointed spots. On one side of the table, the side farthest from the sideboard, was me, Shawn, Lenis, Cass, Bem, Tobit in his highchair, Mary, and Met. On the other side, closest to the sideboard, was Paul opposite me, then Joe, Andy, Comet, Hannah, Altus, and Leah. No one sat at the head of the table. I thought about giving that honor to Paul but was certain he would either refuse it, or he would accept, and it would make him uncomfortable. As neither condition was ideal, I honored Paul as much as I could by putting him at the top of the table, but not at its head. As we all found our seats, Joe came stomping and wheezing through the doors. He dressed in the Solum equivalent of a grey sweatsuit and looked like absolute shit. I was glad to see that he had at least cleaned up. His beard looked like he's made an attempt at grooming and his hair wasn't greasy, which meant he'd showered. He panted his way up to the table and collapsed in his chair between Paul and Andy. Andy grimaced as his father tried to catch his breath. I felt bad for the boy. As hard as it was for me to watch my brother self-destruct, I was certain it was twice as hard for his son to witness. Joe struggled around in his seat to face Paul, held his hand out, and greeted our guest. "Father Miller, so good to see you again." Joe wheezed. `I fucking knew it.' I thought and gritted my teeth in anger. `I knew he would do this. Why does he insist on being a prick?' I tried to hide any outward sign of my displeasure at Joe's greeting and hoped Paul would be able to set him straight. Paul shook Joe's hand and returned the greeting warmly. "Wonderful to see you, Joe. I'm happy to see that you're well. One thing, if you wouldn't mind, while I'm here, would you call me by my first name please? It would make me more comfortable." Joe leaned back in his chair with incredulity branded on his fat face. I could tell right away that he was going to make trouble. How much trouble he was going to make, remained to be seen. "I don't know what my brother said to you when you were on your way here," Joe launched into his act, "but even though this world is godless, it still understands how to show respect. You've earned your title and we should use it." "Joe," Paul started speaking with a sharp edge in his voice, then he swallowed hard and softened his tone, "Joe, I was the one that suggested that I go by `Paul' while I'm here. I would appreciate it if you would consider my feelings and comply with my request." My brother pointed across the table at me, his voice full of accusatory indignance. "Did he say something to you, something like you couldn't come here and still be a priest? Why did you even agree to something like that?" I lost my temper at Joe's accusation and slammed my fist on the table hard enough to make everyone's silverware rattle and their salad plates clatter against the dinner plates. The noise drew Joe's puffy scowl toward me. I pointed at him and inhaled a breath to blast him when something louder than me shattered the tense silence of the room. "WHAAAAAA WHA WHAAAAAA!" Tobit cried from several places down along my side of the table. I dropped my face in my hands and swore into my palms. "Oh, goddamnit." I muttered. I looked along the table toward where Mary and Bem were trying to soothe their son who had been distressed by the noise of me striking the table. Cass came to the rescue with his signature tricks. He left his chair and hurried to his grandson's side. Cass always carried a red, rubber ball about the size of a shooter marble. He used it and his telekinesis to perform little tricks for his own amusement. This time he used the tricks to distract and quiet little Tobit. "I'm sorry." I apologized in a quiet voice that was too little too late. We all waited in strained silence while Tobit quieted down. Once he calmed, Bem helped Cass distract him while Mary got up to get him some food. She stopped at Joe's seat on her way around the table to the sideboard. "Everyone wants to have a good time. Why do you insist on messing that up?" She demanded as a rhetorical question and marched away from Joe before he could answer. Joe looked from Paul, to me, to Andy and back like he wanted one of us to side with him, like he thought one of us would defend his pedantic nonsense. When no one went to his rescue, he hauled himself to his feet and left the room without a word. The room door swung closed behind Joe. Just as it did, Paul jumped to his feet. "I should go after him." He said, urgently. "Mister Paul," Andy said to stop the worried priest, "just leave him be. It won't help." Paul rubbed his big hands together in a nervous gesture that made him seem like he didn't know what to do next. "I'm sorry. Maybe I should have let him call me Father. What difference does it make? If it makes him happy to address me that way..." "Mister Paul," Andy interrupted Paul's worried monologue, "it's not your fault, it's his." My heart broke for Andy. He sounded so sad, so defeated. Of all of us, he'd tried the hardest to break his father out of his funk, but Joe refused all help. It was almost like he deliberately punished those that worked the hardest on his behalf. The one good thing Andy's distress did, it seemed to help Paul decide what to do next. He moved over behind Andy's chair and patted the boy's head to comfort him. "I know it's hard, son." Paul's voice was warm with genuine sympathy. "I promise, we'll give it a few days, let him get used to my being here, and I'll see if I can reach him. I did it before. I suppose you remember that." Andy sniffed and nodded his agreement slowly. "Yes, I remember." "I'll need your help this time. Will you help me?" Andy turned in his chair to face the compassionate old man. "I'll do anything I can to help him. He's my dad." "Good for you, son. Give me a few days to get acclimated and we'll put our heads together, OK?" "OK." "Good, very good, now, Joe's problem notwithstanding, I suppose it's finally time for dinner." I agreed with that idea and stood from my place. Bem cleared his throat with a pointed "A-hem!" I looked along the table to see what he wanted. Bem glared at me while he raised his right hand to his forehead and said, "in the name of the father." I plopped myself back in my chair and went through the motions while Bem said grace for the table. Bem said the regular prayer and added a thank you to God for seeing Paul safely into our midst. When that was settled, and the Amens said, I stood up again. I guided Paul to the sideboard, and insisted he go first. We lined up at the buffet and returned with loaded plates. Paul sat down with a plate fairly heaped with his favorites. I sat down and dug into my meal. Bem passed behind me on his way to load his own plate and poked my back with a sharp finger. "Number two." He said just to me. "When?" I demanded. Bem paused to remind me. "When Tobit started to cry." "I can't believe you heard that." "Well, I did." Bem issued his gentle rebuke and continued to the buffet. He was giving me a hard time for breaking the second commandment, the one that says not to take the lord's name in vain. Bem had the rules memorized, with all the rest of The Bible, and liked to throw the commandments around by number whenever one of us broke them in his presence. Number two was the accusation he most often levied at me. No matter how much time I spent with my very well-spoken husband, or the other professional or religious people in my life, my language remained laced with profanity and blasphemy. It was a failing of mine, but I saw it as a minor one. Bem didn't often upbraid me for swearing, but he did gig me for blaspheming. `Fuck it.' I said to console myself. `His hang up, not mine.' I glanced up to check on Paul and saw that Shawn's mother had moved to fill the chair left empty by Joe. "I hope you don't mind if I join you, Paul." She purred as she sat. "Not at all." Paul replied, using a voice that I hadn't heard him use before. It was a quiet, confidential voice, like he was talking only to Lenis and no one else. Lenis' very forward manner with the old priest made me nervous. I made a mental note to have a talk with her before things went too far. I distinctly remembered telling her about Paul in anticipation of his visit, but I wasn't sure I'd ever clarified the restrictions imposed by his calling. I was far more concerned about her getting her feelings hurt than about Paul being tempted into breaking his vows. That aside, I also wanted to avoid anything that would make Paul uncomfortable in my home. I wanted him to enjoy his visit, however long he chose to stay. Much to my relief, the conversation between Paul and Lenis stayed light and pleasant and very mundane. The whole of the meal went very well for the full two hours that I'd allowed. By the time Cellarius texted me to see if we were ready for the staff to clean up the room, most of the young people had excused themselves and the Ecclesia family left with their yawning son. Bem even did me the courtesy of taking Cass with him. Me and Shawn and Lenis and Paul and Met, who had moved up from his spot at the far end of the group, were lingering over coffee, and I figured it was just as well. Paul seemed like he was running down again, and I was barely paying attention. My mind was too busy rechoreographing what I planned to do with Shawn as soon as I could get him alone. Lenis offered to accompany Paul to his room, but I took charge of my guest, much to her obvious disappointment. I asked Shawn if he wanted to go with us. "You go ahead." Shawn refused my offer. "I have a few things to talk over with Met for tomorrow and I'll meet you upstairs. Don't dawdle." Shawn got up from his seat and turned his profile to me. He raised one of his high-heeled feet onto the chair and bent down like he was checking the laces that his shoe didn't have. He leaned his upper body back to vertical and trailed his fingertips along his white-clad leg as he went. The move highlighted all my favorite parts of his body, from his well-turned ankle to the sculpted muscles of his leg to the curve of his ample hip and perfect ass. He captured my attention with the up from under look that made me burn and pouted his full lips seductively. "Love..." he prompted, "Paul is waiting for you," he dropped his voice to a sultry murmur, "and so am I." `HOLY GOD!' My mind screamed at me in raw lusty passion. I forced myself to turn away from Shawn and found Paul standing right at my elbow. He smiled at me like he was in on a joke that I hadn't heard and gestured for me to lead the way. I walked to the door and into the corridor before I realized my mouth was hanging open again. "I might be mistaken," Paul said with a smirk in his voice as we crossed the grand entryway toward the residential stairs, "but I think your husband has been putting on a show for you." I responded to Paul with all the intelligence that was available to me at that moment. "I uh...I uh...yeah." Paul's voice lowered and seemed to grow reverent. He sounded like he was reciting something but doing it for himself. "His legs are as pillars of marble, set upon sockets of fine gold." "What's that?" I asked as my intelligence started working again and caught up with the man's words. My question seemed to startle Paul out of a fantasy, and he came back to our conversation abruptly. "Nothing, young man...nothing at all." He waved his words away as if he were fanning smoke from his face. "It must be nice to be the object of someone's desire. He must be very much in love with you to go to the lengths he did this evening." I agreed with Paul. "Shawn is the absolute master of sensuality, and yes, I believe he loves me very much." "You are a very lucky man." Paul's voice sounded like there was a bit of longing in it. "You've done your duty. Here we are." Paul gestured to the door of his apartment unit as we arrived in front of it. "Goodnight my friend. Thank you for a wonderous and wonderful day." "Do you want me to come in with you?" I asked. Paul shook his head at me like my question was the silliest thing he'd ever heard. "Sven and I will figure out whatever needs to be figured out tonight. Go to your husband. He's waiting." My first impulse was to kiss Paul in gratitude for understanding, but I restrained myself. I stayed with him long enough to make sure he got inside the apartment and was able to get the lights on before I literally ran to my third-floor apartment and the fun and games that awaited me.