Chrysalis Part 3-Chapter 17
This story is about a young man's quest to fix a major birth defect--he was born without a penis. On his quest he meets challenges, his soul mate and many other soon to be friends.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and events are the product of the author's imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any real person is coincidental.
The story depicts procedures and practices common for gender reassignment; however, this story does not claim to be a medical treatise, and information is primarily for the purpose of the story and not medical advice. This story is written for adults with adult themes. If you are underage or live in a location where references to gay relationships or transgender people is forbidden, please log out of the story or move.
This work is copyrighted by Boethiuscell@gmail.com © 2023
All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information and retrieval system, without the written permission of the copyright owned to the extent permitted by law.
Please contribute to Nifty. They do a great job of providing stories that please the senses, titillate the mind, and expand our view of the world.
Chapter 17--Serpents in the Garden
"Good mornings, sirs." Owen cheerfully pulled back the drapes to the bedroom letting in a bright winter sun. "This is the big day. You need to rise and shine. I am having Mavis send up breakfast. Don't want you passing out during the service."
Owen's chipper voice clashed with Chris's mild hangover. "Coffee," he moaned and rolled over closer to Tom. "Protect me from that waggish beast."
Tom pushed Chris away. "Protect yourself. I need to pee."
"See what a cruel man I am about to marry. Will no one save me?" Chris managed to sit up, the covers falling to his hips.
"I am sorry, Sir. No man however gallant dares challenge your mate." Owen laughed as he placed a cup of coffee on Chris's side table.
Chris grabbed the cup with two hands and slurped greedily. "Thank you valiant squire. This is balm to my parched lips." Chris finished the cup and crawled out of bed.
"Chris, Mavis also sent this up. She said it would ease the pains from too many nips of the good stuff." Owen gave Chris a large glass with a greenish liquid.
Chris scrunched his face and sniffed. It did not smell horrid. He urged his tongue to taste the edge of the liquid. Not bad. He drank. "This tastes much better than I thought. Now if it works."
"It works." Owen grinned at Chris as he took the empty glass. "Give it ten fifteen minutes to work through the system. By the time you are showered you will feel normal."
Chris pulled a robe about himself and trudged to the shower to join Tom. Chris stood in the shower with Tom. Tom was gently washing his back. "Tom? Have you ever wanted to do anything with my pussy? I mean in another month it will be gone."
"Hell, no. The thought of going down there and sticking my tongue inside, much less my dick, is truly stomach turning. I by far prefer to taste your backside." Chris let out a sigh. "Why do you ask, are you wanting to try it once before you lose it?"
"Gag me with a mouthful of maggots, no. But for you I would."
Tom turned Chris around to face him. "I love you Chris. I love the man you are, and I am excited to see the man you will be. With one sexy dick I can suck."
"I love you too Tom. The best thing about my new dick is that it won't go soft until I allow it. I can fuck you for hours."
"But first let's get us hitched--again." They stepped out of the shower and dried each other off and slipped into fuzzy robes not wanting a spill on the weeding garments as they ate breakfast.
They walked into their sitting room where Chad and Boyd were waiting. "Hope you saved some spunk for the honeymoon." Chad was in a heavy wool sweater and jeans while Boyd wore flannel and jeans.
"Don't worry, we're going to change after we eat. Egg yolk on a white shirt is so not appropriate." Boyd laughed.
Owen served a full breakfast of crepes stuffed with blackberries, thick bacon, sausage, fried eggs, toast from homemade bread paired with homemade black current jam, and sun gold tomatoes and horn of plenty mushrooms. Not done, Owen opened a bottle of champagne and served mimosas along with the Mavis's house blend coffee. As they started to eat, Tom looked at Owen standing to the side ready to serve more if requested. "Get your ass over here and eat with us." Tom pointed to an empty chair. Owen fixed himself a plate and joined the group. "Unless it is a formal business meal, you will eat with us." Chris grinned at Tom being.
After everyone was filled to the top, they moved to the sofas while Owen and Boyd cleared the table onto a trolley, making obscene word plays about the detritus of the meal. Chris never knew that runny eggs could be a sexual metaphor, and that coming from Owen, sweet naïve Owen--ha; the two made made Tom blush.
Mary knocked on the suite door and entered. She looked around and heaved a large sigh. "Thought I might see some dangly man flesh." She went to help Owen and Boyd; since Owen was to be in the wedding party, ring boy, he needed to dress with the rest of the men. "Church is getting packed. People outside the gate with cameras and same at the church. A couple of people with nasty signs but the constable ran them off. Gossip has it that a couple of American photographers are among the horde." She sat herself between Tom and Chris. "You two are causing more a commotion than Sandy McGiver murder'n his mum."
Chris and Tom both laughed. "I do hope that no one is murdered at the end of this." Tom pinched Mary. "Now, do you mind leaving us; we have man bits to dangle as we dress." Mary looked eagerly at Tom. "Which we will do without you reporting to Lulu the details of our appendages."
"All right, I'll leave. But I'm gonna lie to Lulu and say you are like bulls." Laughing she left the room taking the trolley with her.
A London designer insisted on making the tuxedos for Chris and Tom. They wanted to refuse but the designs were spectacular, and it would help with Dreamweavers--Europe. Tom's tux was a metallic seaweed green with trim fit slacks. The jacket was almost to the knees, slit in the back, with wide lapels of black patent leather that matched the calf high boots. This was over a pear green silk shirt. His tie was a black and forest green silk scarf tied into a loose bow. Chris's tux, like Tom's, was a metallic fabric but in a blue a shade lighter than his eyes. His jacket lapel and boots were white patent leather; his silk shirt was the identical color as the jacket. He too had a scarf tie done in a subtle floral pattern of blues, dark green, and hints of orange and russet. The rest of the wedding party was in traditional black tuxedos except for the bow ties and cummerbunds, which matched the groom they were standing up for in the wedding.
"Sirs," Clarke stood at the door to the sitting room where the wedding party was having a glass of sherry to calm the nerves. "The limousine is awaiting. If you could follow me." Clarke stood at the door inspecting each person, straightening ties, brushing off lint, recombing hair. He stopped Tom and Chris. "Sirs,..." he stopped at a loss for words. "I am bloody proud of both of you." He turned to lead the group to the limousine.
There were two limousines waiting. One for each family. At the gates to the property were three photographers, but the cars did not slow down, so any pictures would be a blur. At the church were ten photographers. One was Clyde. He was with Linc and Ariel so that he could have full access to the event. The cars stopped. The small local constabulary kept the press at fifteen feet from the cars. Dink and Hagan in suits, opened the car doors. Ariel sent the groomsmen around to the back of the church to meet with Mavis, who would escort them to the positions inside the church. Ariel sent Chris with his parents to a small tent, and Tom with his to a similar tents. The rest of the family had already arrived and were seated in the side pews of the church.
"This is how the entrance will be." Ariel said broaching no discussion. "Chris and your parents will enter first when the choir sings "Love Divine, All Love Excelling." and take your position on the right side of the altar. Where your groomsmen are. Tom you and your parents will enter next when the choir sings "The King of Love, My Shepard Is". You will be on the left side of the altar. Any questions?"
"What about me?" Owen asked.
"Right, the most important person." Owen grinned. "You follow Tom and kneel between them. You do have the rings?" He patted around his jacket like he lost them but then pulled them from a tied handkerchief. "I didn't want to lose them." Ariel took them and tied them by a satin ribbon to a pillow.
"Don't want them falling off the pillow and rolling around on the floor. Now Owen, when you reach the altar knee between Chris and Tom. There is a pillow there to cushion your knees. When Father Hughs asks for the rings, raise the pillow up so he does not need to reach. Once they are off the pillow, stand, bow to Chris, then Tom, and then Father Hughes. You then can walk off to the side."
"Got it."
"Everybody good?" Ariel asked. Everyone nodded fine. "Then I am off to sit by Cheddy. Go line up at the door. Everybody looks smashing."
Chris's mother was preening over Chris. "Oh, Chris honey, you look beautiful. And a church wedding, to a fine young man." She started to cry. "This is all I have ever wanted for you. To find someone who will love you as much as I do." Chris held his mother close to his chest, wanting to cry too.
Anda was almost as doting as Helen. Tom was the first of her children to marry. True they were married in Los Angeles with a nice ceremony, but here was in Quent's ancestral home, among his kin. This was very special. Quent was a solid presence, but after 28 year, she knew he was elated to be here, elated to see his son marry in the church he grew up attending, and that his father was elated too. She kissed Tom and then stood by her husband. He patted her wrist and smiled. "Shall we get this show on the road."
The distance from the tent to the front of the church was only about twenty feet, but the way was blocked by about fifty people who could not fit into the church. A TV screen would show the proceedings for those outside. The press were flashing pictures, but not yelling for attention or comments. The crowd parted for the wedding party. Chris noticed two older men, hugging each other. They gave Chris the thumbs up; Chris returned it. The music started and Chris entered the church, his mother on the right and his father on the left. His mother set a slow solemn pace, which tickled Chris, but he did not laugh. Father Hughes was waiting in front of the altar in starch white surplice and a green stole diagonal from shoulder to hip. He was a light of smiles. They reached the front of the church. The three bowed their heads to Father Hughes and Helen and Chris Sr. took their seats next to Britney.
Chris stood tall. Boyd's hand quickly squeezed Chris's. The new hymn started and Tom with his parents walked down the aisle. It was his Tom: beautiful, strong, loving, and his. The light from one of the windows crossed Tom's face. Chris's heart stopped for that instant in divine ecstasy. The sun condensed into torches in Tom's eyes; the light touched his lips like a kiss, and stars danced in his hair. He was beauty and truth and love. Chris also knew in that instant that he was the same for Tom.
Chris remembered little of the ceremony except the I dos and the rings. Owen performed his duty flawlessly. Chris and Tom, arm in arm marched out of the church to the very secular "Love Is Here to Stay". The people outside the church were ready with cones of lavender leaves to toss onto the couple. The press was ready too. The rest of the congregation followed and more lavender filled the air and crushed under foot. The scent was intoxicating, or maybe it was just being next to Tom. Clyde was taking pictures. He then asked for the wedding party and family for time to take pictures in the church and around the church grounds. The crowd left for the reception, which was at the local pub.
Father Hughes accompanied them inside the church to ensure decorous pictures. It was a church, his church. "The service was beautiful," Chris said to Father Hughes. "Although I remember little of it. Did your bishop give you any flack?"
"I have found most couples that I marry remember little of the ceremony. Marriage is more for the community than the couple because you have in your hearts pledged yourselves to each other. The ceremony affirms that to the people." Father Hughes laughed as Clyde positioned the wedding party in front of the altar. "My bishop was not very receptive to the idea until he received a call from the Archbishops of Canterbury, London and York about how they approved of his solution to same sex religious unions. I'm now his golden boy." Both Tom and Chris laughed too. "The whole issue did not arise until St. Augustine of Hippo and his more restricted views on sexual relationships. I find it disingenuous that he found sex outside of procreation immoral after he had sown his wild oats and fathered a child out of wedlock. And he may have had a male soulmate. But the Church forgets what it does not want to believe. The role of women in the early church, the power of love as a gift from God, and that God makes us all." Father Hughes stopped talking. "I prattle about what I cannot change. I just know Tom, Chris that your love for each other is not perverted or immoral because it is built on respect and commitment far greater than many other marriages I perform. How could God be against that."
"Thank you Father," Chris said. "Fifteen hundred years of indoctrination cannot be swept away in a decade. But well-reasoned arguments based on biology and a new look at scripture will help." Chris helped Father Hughes sit in a pew; he looked tired. Chris suspected that he was well over seventy.
"We are almost done," Clyde said to Father Hughes, "and you may have your beautiful church back." Three pictures later, Clyde was done and the wedding party was ready to go to the reception. Father Hughes said he would be by later after he rested.
The reception was rowdy, but became even more so when Chris and Tom entered the pub. They were immediately handed classes of whiskey and a pint of dark frothy ale. Chris could see more of Mavis's tonic in his future. Several of the townspeople came up to Tom and Chris to congratulate them and to tell Chris stories from when Tom was younger. Two younger same sex couples thanked Chris and Tom for their courage. The parents were now more open to them being together, since the future lord of the manor was a "poof". From a bar stool came a chant, quickly picked up by others, "Kiss, Kiss, Kiss." Mugs were pounded on surfaces. Tom took Chris into his arms, and they kissed, long and deep. "Get a room," followed by rawkus laughter. Chris and Tom separated to circulate around the room. Chris made sure Louis met Mavis. Lunch was set up in a side room. The celebratory crowd turned its focus to the food, leaving Chris and Tom a little breathing room. They found a vacant table and sat; their glass once again full. "To us." Tom raised his class; Chris tapped it with his glass. Click, Clyde had a picture. Helen and Anda brought food for the pair and sat with them.
Helen's face was flushed as she took a gulp of ale. "Son and son," she giggled, "I am very happy to see you both happy. It was a beautiful wedding. I cried so hard that your father needed to give me his handkerchief because mine was so wet." She laughed like a schoolgirl.
Anda was slightly more sober than Helen, slightly. "Tom, this wedding was as beautiful as your first one. You both looked ethereal as you recited your vows. Linc now wants his wedding here."
"Linc has proposed to Nat?" Tom asked, Chris poked Tom in the ribs to say `I told you so'.
"Not yet, but he is thinking about it."
"This is a perfect location, but Chris and I could easily marry here because I have dual citizenship and a residence in England. I'm not sure how it will be for Linc."
"Your father never gave up his British citizenship when he became an American Citizen. All of our children are citizens of Great Britain because we filed the necessary papers after each of you were born. Like you, they have British and American passports."
"Then it is up to Grandda to say yes or no."
"He'll say yes." Chris chimed in.
"If you ask, Chris, I am sure he will." Anda smiled at Chris. "But you need to approve it too, Tom."
"Why me?"
Aunt Mary walked over to join the conversation. "Because you are the named heir. I take it Seymour has not shared the duties associated with the title."
"No. We've met with Mrs. Bascomb, who handed us a stack of papers." Tom was now worried about the responsibilities.
Aunt Mary laughed. "If she had a rod stuffed further up her bum, she'd poke her eye out." Chris laughed in agreement.
"And we've met with Augustus Woodward for a quick review of financials. We have not had time for any reading since we met with them."
Aunt Mary laughed. "The duties for the heir and consort were written in the 1890s as a way to temper the licentious behavior of the heir and curb the nascent women's rights movement. It is in need of an update. Seymour and I, as the most senior members of the family can revise it." She smiled at Chris, "with your help."
"Could someone contest the naming of the heir based upon the written duties?" Chris asked, thinking of Braxton.
"It is possible, but the entire family would need to vote that Tom is unable to fulfill his duties." Aunt Mary replied.
"What about the consort?"
"There is no provision for that." Aunt Mary knew what Chris's concerns were. "Chris, Tom, you do not need to worry about anybody contesting your fitness. The Farfield side likely will after you put them in their place yesterday Chris, which is about time. Toady bunch of brats. But the rest of the family is strongly supportive of you two or could care less."
A young man, about fifteen, hovered at the edge of the conversation. "Sydney," Aunt Mary shouted and held out her arms. The young man hesitantly moved in for a hug. "I see that your parents made it. Did you make it to the service?"
"Yes, we had to push our way in but it was very nice. We just arrived here because we wanted to settle first at Thistledown."
"Tom, do you remember Sydney? He is your third cousin, my brother's grandson."
"I believe we met once, maybe ten years ago. I think you were still peeing in your britches." Tom laughed at his comment.
"I gave that habit up a few years ago, Tom." Sidney winked at Chris. "To pursue more advanced vices." Sidney paused to debate the next comment. "Thought I am not at the level to be named prince of debauchery like you and Chris." Chris laughed, although Aunt Helen was curious.
"You have seen the Jazzabel videos?" Chris asked with a smirk.
"Yes, sir. You are amazing. And the video with Cecelie. Everybody at school is talking about it. And when I told everybody I would be meeting you because you were marrying my cousin. Sir, you did a great deal for my social life. Do you mind if I take a selfie with you?"
"It would be a pleasure for my number one cousin-in-law." Chris posed with Sydney for several pictures.
"This is the famous Chris, that you've been wanking off over?"
Sydney blushed. "Awh Dad, not cool."
"Hi, I'm Scott. This monkey's Da." He extended a hand toward Chris. "Welcome to the family. You don't know how happy we are to have you part of it." He glanced at Tom. "How'd you get so sodding lucky to land this man. If I remember correctly, you had an elevator zipper, always going up and down."
"I must confess that that was true until this man literally walked into my life." Tom pulled Chris closer for a kiss. "Every day, I realize how truly lucky I am."
"Believe me Scott, I feel the same way about Tom. He completes me." Chris was smiling at Tom.
"That is so sweet, and so newlywed," laughed a woman about a decade younger than Scott followed by two children; obviously his wife since he wrapped his arm about his waste. "I'm Clair the wife and mother of these three: Sydney Cowin, and Constance." The two young children said hi, but mostly hide. "Sydney was most peeved that we could not come up last night, but we had commitments with Scott's family." She and Scott found chairs and pulled them up to join the circle around Chris and Tom. "Both Scott and I were very curious about you and Tom being married in the family church with Uncle Seymour's blessing. I assumed, since he was, to say politely, a recluse." Aunt Mary chortled. "That he would be homophobic."
"Bah, never was." Grandda joined the group. "I was a miserable, cantankerous, mean spirited, unhappy old man until I met my new grandson Chris. But homophobic never. I'm very pleased that you could make it to the service, Claire and Scott. I want to see more of the family. If you two have some time a little later, we need to have a family meeting. It seems some of the family is not happy about Tom being named heir, particularly with a male consort. They want to contest it, but don't have a leg to stand on."
"Let me guess Braxton and his siblings." Clair said with a huff of disgust. "I would never allow any of them to be heir."
"They are slimy." Sidney added. "And bossy and mean. The way they treated me like I was criminal." Sidney smiled shyly. "I did enjoy clocking Braxton in the balls."
Tom and Chris both loudly laughed, "Good for you laddie. Chris put the trio on notice last night. They stormed out in high dudgeon. Woodward will start an audit of books for companies they control."
"Now I wish we had been here." Clair was giggling into her husband's side.
"I would not be surprised if they have been siphoning off funds." Scott added. "They live way beyond their means. They have two homes."
Chris coughed. "We have two homes, now three with Thistledown."
"The two are paid for." Tom added. "With our traveling so much for Dreamweavers between L.A., Chicago, and New York and now London. It makes more sense to have a place in each city."
"I was hired by Dreamweavers in Chicago, which is where I met Tom. They transferred me to New York, where I bought a condo. Once they opened Dreamweavers-West in L.A.. We decided to make that our home, since it is close to Anda and Quent, but keep the condo in New York since we are there weeks at a time working. Then Tom was named heir, so Thistledown. Which is good because Dreamweavers is opening a branch for Europe in London."
"No home in Chicago?" Sydney asked with a smirk.
"My parents live in Chicago, so we can stay with them. A friend also has a three-bedroom condo that we can use. So, no need."
Cedrick and Ariel, with their sons, joined the growing crowd around Chris and Tom. "Tom, Chris. I would like you to meet my brother James and his family: his wife Wilma, and children, Cowin, Constance and Corvin. They just arrived from Bermuda. He works for the government there."
"Pleasure to meet the man that beat sense into Tommy-boy. You curbed his wild ways." James's accent sounded more American than British to Chris, and his skin color was definitely mixed race. "Glad to have you as part of the family. Grandda has finally mellowed, and I hear tell that it is your doing Chris."
"This is the first time our kids have met their Great-Grandda. Before it was too toxic." Wilma sat on James' lap since chairs were scarce.
"Hey, I'm sitting here." Grandda laughed as he broke conversation with the Cowin and Constance; Covin, the five-year old, hid behind his father. "But that was the truth of it. I look at my wonderful great grands and regret what I have missed." He returned to talking to the children.
"Sirs," Cowin, who was about twelve, timidly asked for attention. "Are you both models?"
"Yes, we both are." Tom replied with a gentle smile. "Why do you ask?"
"Do you think I could be a model someday?"
"It is very hard work: long hours, working in rain and cold, twisting your body into unnatural positions, and, like an athlete, washed up by thirty."
"Oh," Cowin said, "I've got a few years to think about it." He went to stand by his parents.
Chris stood. "It is getting late. And I'm not so good with all the beers. I need a change of location. Let's say we return to Thistledown and meet in the music room."
Over ten cars with family followed the limousines back to Thistledown for an evening of singing and good cheer.
The grand salon or formal parlor was filled with family members for Grandda officially named Tom as heir. Everybody was in good spirits and enjoying the bubbly and hor d'oeuvres. "We object." A voice came from the back of the room. "The Farfield family takes exception that the heir is a faggot and is married to a faggot. This is in contradiction to the terms for a consort. I quote, `The primary duty of the consort is to bear and raise the children of the heir.'"
The entire room glared at Braxton, who sat with his siblings and parents. Then the room erupted with derisive comments to Braxton and his foolish notions about an antiquated rule. Grandda calmed everyone down. "Thank you Braxton for pointing out that guideline. If you had researched further, that was amended in 1911 for when the consort was deemed incapable of bearing children. Since divorce is not acceptable, the guideline was changed to allow for adoption."
"That two men to be heir and consort is immoral in the eyes of the church." Braxton countered.
"Again, you are in error." Grandda was enjoying himself. "Yesterday--but you do not attend church--Thomas, my heir, married Chris in the church in front of Fr. Hughes, who performed the ceremony with the approval of the local bishop, the Archbishops of York, London and Canterbury and the Queen. Are you a greater moral authority than them?" Grandda gave Braxton a sly look. "Would you like to see the gift the Queen sent to Tom and Chris?"
Braxton was turning red with fury. "You disowned your own son because he did not exhibit the highly vaunted Greenwood trait. Now he is wedded to an outsider."
"Allow me," Aunt Mary stood up. "As everyone knows, I trace the genealogy of the family." She stared at Braxton. He was afraid of her and said nothing. "I have traced Chris Wentworth's family tree to Sir John Greenwood, who on return from the First Crusades, stopped in Venice where he met a young lady from Padua. They wed. Mr. Farfield, Mr. Chris Wentworth is descended from a Greenwood."
"Yes, a mongrel cur, but not a true Greenwood. He does not have the traits." Braxton was yelling.
Grandda chuckled. "Would you like to test your skills against his?"
Braxton knew that his inherited skills were limited to getting a woman's knickers down, but he could not back out. "Fine."
"What test would you like, Chris, since you are the one challenged.?" Grandda was now enjoying the whole spectacle. He knew that Chris would wipe the smile off Braxton for good.
"Your Lordship," Chris stood and looked directly at Braxton. "I have no desire to embarrass young master Braxton by exposing his ineptitude to the entire family. Therefore, I will allow him to select a simple challenge that he might be able to do." Chris did not sit. Grandda stifled a laugh, many members of the family did not.
Braxton was beyond furious. He stomped to the front of the room to face Chris, only a couple of feet away. "I select the box test. And to avoid family members that may be biased against me. I want my brother to select the objects."
"And your brother will not be biased?" Grandda smugly asked.
"I accept the brother. It will not matter if they feel the need to cheat." Chris smiled at Braxton like they were friends.
"Then proceed." Grandda said. "Clarke bring in the testing box and give Dwase the bag. Clarke brought in a heavy metal box with a small hole in one side and a silver metal bag. "Dwase, you will leave the room with the bag. Outside the room you will select ten objects for the test and put them in the bag. Clarke accompany him." Dwase and Clarke left the room to return ten minutes later. Clarke was not happy, but said nothing.
"Braxton, you may go first if you like." Chris was sweetness.
Dwase pulled an object from the bag and placed it in the box. He turned the box to face Braxton. Braxton looked at Dwase, who blinked. "It is an apple."
"Very good Braxton. You are correct it is a Lord Lambourne apple that Dwase found in the family sitting room. You are a very smart boy." Chris calmly replied.
Dwase blanched as he pulled out an apple with bright red stripes over a golden green background. "One for me." Braxton gloated. "Your turn."
Dwase put another object into the box. "You are mighty clever, Dwase. It is another apple. An oaken pin. But you must realize that is a very fragrant apple and easy to smell."
Dwase gave a worried look at Braxton, as he pulled out another apple.
"Round One tied." Grandda said.
Dwase winked at Braxton as he put the next object into the box. Braxton barely hesitated. "A coin."
Chris shook his head at Dwase. "Excellent intuition on a 1913 farthing that is Dwase's lucky coin." Dwase pulled the coin out of the box but allowed no one to see anything other than it was a coin.
"I can assume Dwase, the Chris was correct in his answer." Grandda said. Dwase said nothing, but looked away.
He put Chris's next item into the box. "Stange choice, Dwase, unless you are into black magic. It is a hair you found on the back of a chair in the music room. The hair is long and reddish because it is from Ariel." Dealer refused to retrieve the object from the box until Grandda stared at him and he pulled the hair out. Chris was correct.
"Still tied after round three. Continue Dwase." Dwase put the object in the box, tapping his foot three times.
Braxton hemmed and hawed like he was struggling to see inside the box. "This is a tough one. I really appreciate you stretching me Dase." Braxton gave an exaggerated sigh. "It is a pin."
"Yes, Braxton, very good for you. It is the safety pin, Dwase, that you put in his pocket before you came in here."
"Are you accusing me of cheating." Braxton moved closer to face Chris.
"People only cheat when they are afraid that they will lose. Are you afraid you will lose?"
"Last one Chris." Braxton could not hide the venom in his voice. "Good luck with this one."
Dwase's hand quickly went into the box and then out. "My you are a tricky one, Dwase. You put part of a candy cane in the box, but as a hedge, you have a stub of a candle in your hand. If I gave the correct answer you would switch out the item for the other. I'm sorry that Braxton threatened you if you did not help him."
Tom grabbed Dwase's hand and exposed the candle stub and then pulled the candy cane piece out of the box.
"We have a tie." Braxton yelled.
Grandda was having too much fun at Braxton expense to stop the humiliation. "True we do. Clarke, take the bag and have five family members put an object into the bag. Then put the entire bag into the box. The person who can name the most correctly wins."
Braxton blanched but could not argue against his Lordship. "If I go first and name all the object, what is to prevent Chris from agreeing with me. He should go first.."
Grandda laughed. "Same for you to say that you agree with Chris." Grandda winked at Clarke, who left the room and returned with two white boards. "Write your answers on these." Grandda had Clarke give each contestant a board. He also sat two chairs across from each other. Grandda told everybody to step far away so as not to influence the answers. "You have five minutes." Braxton again wanted to protest, but didn't.
Chris quickly wrote on his board. Braxton paused, thought, paused and then wrote. "One minute left." Chris was finished, so he sat calmly with his board turned over so that nobody could see it. "Time. Clarke collected the boards and set them up for everybody to see. "Dwase, would you draw the first item and hand it to me." Grandda showed the object to everyone. Braxton had it fifth on his list, a button, Chris had it first: silver button from Aunt Mary's purse. Braxton gloated that it was still tied.
"Second item please." Grandda held up a mirror.
It was not on Braxton's list, but Chris's second item was Darlene's mirror.
"Third item, Dwase." Grandda held up a five-pound note.
Not on Braxton's list, but third on Chris's was five-pounds from Harold.
"This is turning interesting," Grandda said as he asked for the fourth item, a watch.
This was on Braxton's list as number two. On Chris's list it was number four--Scott's Movado watch.
"Although Braxton cannot win. I want to see how Chris does with the last item. Five please." Grandda was carefully eyeing Chris. It was a toy stegosaurus. The room gasped as they read Chris's answer--toy stegosaurus that Sidney thought he lost but found in the backseat of the car.
Braxton, beyond humiliated and angry cocked back his arm and swung at Chris. Chris stepped aside, the punch hitting air. Chris caught Braxton's other arm, brought it behind Braxton and forced him to the ground. Braxton screamed in pain. "Young man." Grandda was furious. "That behavior is never tolerated in this house. I have a mind to take you out back and switch you, but it is the holiday, and I will be kind and banish you from this house for as long as I am alive. Take a seat by your parents and be quiet. Or leave with them to never return. Braxton, rubbing his shoulder marched back to sit with his parents.
Chris sat down next to Tom, upset about the whole incident. "Now that the entertainment is over, we can proceed to confirming Thomas Greenwood as heir and Chris Wentworth as consort. Those who oppose." Braxton, Dwase, and Darlene's hands went up. Their parents did not. "Those in favor." All the remaining hands went up. "Tom, Chris, please kneel in front of me. As patriarch of this family and with the acclimation of the family, I name you heir and consort. Please rise and turn to the family that you take responsibility to guide, lead, and protect." Tom and Chris rose and turned.
Everyone knelt, except Braxton, "We pledge our loyalty to you as custodian of the family name and honor." Then everybody rose and rushed Tom and Chris to congratulate them.
That evening Greenwoods showed up for supper, including Braxton and his two siblings, Dwase and Darlene, who were as obnoxious as he was. Clarke gently reminded Darlene, the sister, that the silverware and knickknacks were to stay in the house and not her purse. She acted highly offended, but pulled the Staffordshire sculpture from her purse. Chris wandered over to calm the situation.
Darlene took one look at Chris. "You're the street trash Thomas is wedding. He must be desperate."
"You must be Braxton's sister." He smiled at her, she shivered. "I can see that intelligence does not run in that side of the family. It is a pity that your parents are too stupid to know that you are stealing money to give to a boyfriend, who is more interested Roselynn."
"How dare you say that with no proof. He loves me." Darlene was flushing red.
"I suggest that you be more alert to the excuses for not meeting you and his lack of interest is spending time with you."
She glared at Chris, who stood calmly looking at her. She turned, found Braxton and Dwase, and they sulked to the door. Clarke watched the whole exchange with a smirk. "Very well played Chris. I have a feeling that the Greenwood family will be in for a nasty surprise if they try to cross you."
"I see that you ticked off Darlene," Tom said with a smile. "She and her siblings are ill-bred bounders. We will need for Mr. Woodward to review the accounts that they have access to."
"I believe that he will find many irregularities." Chris, nodding to Clarke, took Tom's arm and rejoined the gathering. Several people commented on the rushed departure of the three and thanked Chris for airing their stench out of the room.
The lunch buffet was replaced with the supper buffet as people came and went. After the supper buffet, Chris invited everybody to the music room for entertainment. The entire staff was standing beside the piano, dressed in black slacks and bright green polos embroidered with Thistledown Choristers. Chris walked confidently to the front of the room as people found seats. A space in front was reserved for Grandda. "The staff at Thistledown," Chris said loudly, "wanted to thank his Lordship, Sir Greenwood, for the generous Christmas bonus. In his honor, they have prepared this entertainment." Chris slid onto the piano bench, did a piano introduction and the staff sang "Hark, How the Bells". They were very good with a nice range from bass to soprano. They moved from that song to "Coventry Carol" and then "What Child Is This." They stopped singing to wild applause. Grandda never looked so happy. "The staff will do four more songs and then it is a sing-along." Chris said from the piano bench. Clarke, Hagan, and Owen stepped forward. Chris started "We Three Kings." with each person being one of the kings. Clarke had a rich basso voice, while Owen's voice was a more watery tenor, and Hagan held the solid middle. Mary and Lulu stepped front next to sing the "Christmas Song". They sang in close harmony. Lastly Dirk stepped forward; he was the surprise for Chris; his voice ran from upper baritone, through tenor to countertenor. It was a sweet voice with wistful harmonics. Dirk was nervous, rubbing his hands up and down the sides of his pants, but once the music started, he put his heart into "Vene, Veni, Emmanuel". Before there could be applause Chris started the last song. "It was Christmas Eve babe/In the drunk tank..." Everyone knew the song and listened intently. Chris thought it was a very depressing song, but Owen assured him that it was a Christmas standard in Great Britain.
Once the song finished, the applause was enthusiastic. Grandda was whipping tears from his eyes. He stood. "Clarke, Mavis, Mary, Lulu, Hagan, Dink, and Owen, that is the best Christmas present ever. I never knew what talented voices existed in this house. I now insist that there be more singing in this house. Thank you for not only this entertainment but for caring for me and mine. I know it is not always easy, but you do your duty to your best." Grandda sat down to applause and agreement. Owen passed out song books for the sing along.
Chris stood beside Grandda and said, "We will take a twenty-minute break, because I need to pee bad." Laughter. "Then we will do the sing along." Chris ran from the room because he did need to pee bad. When he returned, he did not realize how full the room was. Stu, Helga, and Adam had arrived. He waved to Chaz and Boyd who were standing with Louis and Ollie and Juan and Zack. A fleeting thought on seeing Louis was to introduce him to Mavis. Chris returned to the piano bench. "Now for requests."
Clarke stood. "Before you start Chris, the staff would like to give you a gift." Mary and Lulu came up to the piano and opened a beautiful quilted jacket. "This jacket represents each of the staff because they each contributed fabric. Inside are all of our signatures. It is an heir's doublet modeled after Sir Neval Greenwood's, who lived in the 16th century. Chris Wentworth, the staff and I want you to know that you have earned our affection and loyalty. To the future of the Greenwood name. You will wear it well, Sir." Clarke did a deeper bow than usual and then left for the back of the room where he could watch everything.
Chris looked at the garment, the quality of the stitching, the simple beauty of the design. "Thank you everyone. I do not know what to say. But this is a great gift that you have given me. I am a Yank who does not know the customs of this fine old house. But you welcomed me, made me feel this is my home. I no long feel like this is my home. It is my home. This is the place where Tom and I will raise our children because we know that they will be cared for and loved." He opened the jacket and saw all the names inside. "The names inside are physical proof of how close you are to my heart." Chris put the jacket on while Tom helped with the buttons. Chris took time to compose himself. "Now let us sing." The evening went swiftly as he played to the many requests. The voices were not tuned, but they were loud.