The Lifeguard

Disclaimer: The following is a work of fiction. If you are

offended by graphic descriptions of homosexual acts, go

somewhere else.

Copyright c 2001 by Orrin C. Rush. All rights reserved.

Neither this story nor any parts of it may be distributed

electronically or in any other manner without the express,

written consent of the author.

This is a work of fiction, any resemblance of the characters

to anyone living or dead is pure coincidence and not

intended. They are all products of the author's imagination.

THE LIFEGUARD

Chapter 53

"The Holidays are coming up again," I commented over dinner.

"Anybody got any plans for Thanksgiving?" I asked.

"Anything but a repeat of last year," Eric groaned.

"I'm planning to have dinner with Rick's family, if that's

all right with everyone," Tina said.

"Hans has invited me to go snowboarding in Switzerland,"

Annie said. "It's not one of their holidays, but who needs

an excuse," she giggled.

"We have an open invitation at Mom and Dads," Eric told me.

"I think Ryan and his family are coming down."

"Then it's settled," I said. "Everybody's got their own

plans. We can let everybody here have a few days off.

Moving on, what about Christmas?"

"I've invited Hans," Annie said. "I hope he'll come early

and stay several weeks."

"My cousins in Chicago have made some noises about coming to

visit us right after Christmas. Don't know how many or when,

yet," Eric said, then turning to Tina and Annie. "Better warn

you, I have a strong feeling that the whole bunch might be

gay. They'll behave, but thought you should know."

"So what?" Tina said. "We have gay guys around all the

time. I love 'em, two in particular."

"Want to have another 'Open House'?" I asked.

"We HAVE to," Annie said. "It's already a tradition! Let's

go all-out this year."

Eric's ability to delegate had developed to a fine art, and

his knack for finding the right person for the right job had

been amply demonstrated.

These talents were at work again. He had located a large

number of candidates for the job of Foundation President and

was sifting through them. He'd be elated one day and

disappointed the next as he went through the initial

screening process. Some that he had high hopes for turned

out not to be what he was looking for, and others pleasantly

surprised him.

He had narrowed it down to the "short list" when he asked for

my input. "Any of these guys could do the job very well," he

said, "now it's down to deciding which one we could work with

best."

He had final interviews for each one scheduled that would

include Annie, Tina and me. After that, the four of us

would get together and make a final decision.

We met with all four during the same day, one after the other,

nobody making any comments in between. When the last one

left, Eric asked us what we thought. Tina went first.

"They're ALL nice, pleasant and would be good, but I like the

little chubby guy with the twinkling eyes. It's just a gut

feeling."

"He's my choice, too," Annie said. "How about you Eric?"

"I picked him a long time ago," he chuckled.

"Then it's unanimous," I said. "The twinkle in his eye got

to me too."

"His name's George - for everyone's information," Eric said.

"George William Collins the third."

"One down, one to go," Eric said that evening.

"How's the other one coming along?" I asked.

"Between resumes, questionnaires and recommendations, I've

already narrowed it down to seven," he said. "I got a lot of

help from the Culinary Institute in upstate New York.

"I have interviews set up in New York, and also a lot of

possible locations to look at," he continued.

"When are you going?" I asked.

"When are WE going," he corrected me with a grin. "Next

Monday, if you can get away. Should only take a day or two."

We were on a tight schedule. Monday would be interviews,

Tuesday would be spent with the realtor, and Wednesday more

interviews.

On the flight East, Eric gave me the paperwork on each

candidate which I read over carefully. His notes on each

were the most revealing, detailing their strengths and

weaknesses. He also had a list of questions that he planned

to ask each one. Damn, this guy was organized!

"All of them have 'kitchen' knowledge," he commented, "but

their concentration has been on management which is what

we're looking for."

"I notice that most of them are fairly recent graduates," I

said. "Any particular reason for that?"

"Yes," he smiled. "That way they haven't had a chance to get

too ingrained in the way some other company does things.

Fewer bad habits to break, but they still have the basic

knowledge and can be trained to our somewhat unorthodox

management style."

We zipped through the interviews, all seven of them, mainly

because Eric was prepared. The questions he asked were

probing and provided the information we needed. I had little

to add, and was mostly an observer throughout the process.

Out of seven, one in particular got my interest. According

to his application he was 36, personable and someone I felt

could work with Maurice, something I didn't think would be

easy. He appeared assertive enough not to put up with any

of the crap that Maurice was sure to dish out, and had the

personality to do it in a tactful way.

Not surprisingly, he was Eric's choice too. We'd call him

back on Wednesday.

Tuesday morning, Eric's Realtor met us in a Limo to show us

the properties she'd found. For a change, we were interested

in leasing instead of buying.

The first place that we looked at was, in my opinion, too

small, the second, good size but rotten location, and so it

went until late afternoon, when we found what I felt was the

ideal spot.

Eric, who'd been losing interest fast, perked up too. It was

almost the whole first floor of an older but elegant hotel.

It had once been the hotel's dining room, but that had been 30

or 40 years ago, and hadn't been used recently for anything.

The building was on a corner, the hotel entrance on one

street, and the dining room around the corner with a walk-up

entrance. Tall windows, around eight feet above sidewalk

level went across the front.

The room itself was huge, plenty of room for the fifty tables

we planned, probably more. The ceiling was, I'd estimate,

about 18 feet, proportionate to the room's size.

The kitchen was ancient, but could be modernized and there

was room for expansion. Other advantages, the Realtor

explained, were that the space was already zoned for a

restaurant, 40 underground parking spaces were available,

and, most importantly, the price was right.

Both Eric and I were smiling. "Don't think we have to look

any further," I commented.

"Nope," he said with a grin.

I was curious, though, "Why is this place vacant?" I asked

the Realtor.

"For one thing, it's too big," she said. "For another, most

of the new restaurants that're starting up can't afford it

and go for lofts or warehouses with all the pipes and stuff

along the ceiling exposed. Cheaper to decorate too."

"What kind of lease do they want?" Eric asked her.

"Straight 5 year, no percentage," she said.

"Would they go for a longer term?" he asked.

"I think they'd jump at it," she said.

We were both excited. The only remaining "if" was whether

Maurice would like it. We decided to find out before we went

any further. He and Philippe got to the penthouse in

minutes, and the taxi ride to the place was short.

The two of them went straight to the kitchen, then came out,

expressionless, to look over the dining room. They examined

the place from end to end, top to bottom, talking between

themselves. When they came over to where we were standing,

Maurice very quietly said "Enormous possibilities!" and

started telling us everything that he'd do to the place.

His enthusiasm built as he expounded. It was catching, and

soon Eric and I were as excited as he was.

"It will be elegant but simple," he stated, "the proper

setting for the elegant food I will serve. It's larger than

I expected, but we can fill the place every night, that, I'm

sure of! Have you signed the lease yet?"

"We wanted your approval first," Eric told him.

"See if you can get some space behind the kitchen for

offices," he suggested. "The Manager and I'll need some

space. We could cut through the wall, maybe even have an

entrance from the other side."

Neither of us had thought of that.

"Is the kitchen big enough?" I asked.

"Plenty of room," he said. "If the kitchen's too big, it

isn't efficient. Of course, we'll have to gut this one and

start over, but the ventilation's there, and just about

everything else we'll need."

"Then, this is acceptable?" I asked.

"It could be perfection, I can see it all now..." he said.

"Can I choose the decorator?"

"Do you have someone in mind?" Eric asked.

"Yes, Brucie," he smirked. "He may get nuts at times, like

your kitchen, but we can work together."

Eric burst out laughing. "But all the yelling you guys did..."

"Oh, that's just an act," Maurice grinned. "Both Brucie and

I know that!"

"We're going to hire a Manager tomorrow," Eric told him. "Do

you want to meet him?"

"Bring him to our place for dinner tomorrow night, Brucie too

if he can make it," Maurice said. "Then we can go to work."

Wednesday was another busy day. Eric's Realtor came over

early to take us to see the space that could be converted to

offices. The owner's agents were there and we negotiated the

lease at the same time, 10 years with an option for another

ten. Preliminary papers were signed on the spot.

Brucie had lunch with us and went berserk when we offered him

the decorating job. "Of course I'll do it," he screamed,

drawing the attention of every other person in the place.

Mark, the fellow we'd chosen for the Manager's position,

accepted our offer enthusiastically. He had to give notice

but would be able to start in two weeks. Our team was

complete.

If I dined the way I did at Maurice's that night on a regular

basis, I'd weigh 300 pounds in no time. Utterly fabulous.

Equally satisfying was seeing how fast rapport developed

between Maurice and Mark. Brucie seemed to get along with

everyone. Philippe was quiet, retiring, but didn't miss a

word.

Ideas flew around like a swarm of bees. There was agreement

and disagreement, but everyone was open to suggestion. Eric

and I listened and learned.

While we were eating, Mark asked how we had all gotten

together. "Chef Maurice prepared Eric's birthday dinner in

Denver a couple of years ago," I said. "From there, Eric

conned him into cooking for him here in New York, and from

there, he and Philippe have become our good friends."

Eric took up the story from there. "Bruce decorated our

apartment here in New York. Maurice helped us outfit the

kitchen, and that's how the two of them met."

"I still think that kitchen's an insult to any cook," Maurice

snorted.

"You don't have any taste," Brucie shot back, and they were

off and running, trading insults and having a wonderful time

doing it.

"Is this what I have to look forward to every time you two get

together?" Mark asked in mock horror.

"Yep, but we promise there won't be any bloodshed," Brucie

giggled, reaching over to give Maurice a hug.

We left for home the next morning. Mission accomplished.

Annie returned from her week in Switzerland totally mellow.

She was up early every morning with a smile which scared all

the staff and made Eric and me chuckle.

"I guess you're trainable afterall," Eric kidded her.

"Oh, maybe," she mooned.

"I'm getting to like Hans more and more," I told her. All

she did was smile mischeviously.

"He's going to be here for three weeks over Christmas," she

said. "The office'll be closed so I'll be able to show him

around."

"Speaking of Christmas," I said, "it's not that far away.

Who's doing the planning?"

"Everybody, haven't you heard?" Tina piped up.

"No," I said. "Tell me what you've got going."

"We didn't think you'd be interested in details, so the three

of us just went ahead," she explained.

"We've conned Gary into helping us decorate," she continued,

"we're going for the 'old fashioned' look. It'll be

overdone, I'm sure, but it'll be fun. Since the guest list

will be much larger than last year, and since it's cooler at

night, we're going to put up a big tent out on the back 40.

It'll be decorated too. Eric's handling the food and booze,

and Annie's taking care of the music, and Hans," she giggled.

"Everybody needs to give me their guest lists," Annie said,

"my secretary's going to handle the invitations. At least I

can handle THAT," she said, sticking her tongue out at her

sister.

The Lifeguard Foundation was housed in office space in our

new building that had originally been set aside for Micron.

On his first day, George showed up prepared. I showed him

around, introducing him to the people in our organization that

I thought could help him.

The Foundation would be a separate, self-contained entity, but

there were some functions that could be shared with Metalco

such as computer systems and payroll. Why duplicate?

George's first objective was to build the necessary

organization so the Foundation could function. He made it

clear that his staff would be minimal, that he had no

intention of squandering money on "administration" that could

better be used for Education, our stated purpose. He would

work with Metalco's Human Resources to build his staff.

Lifeguard was a non-profit, tax-exempt organization with more

than a billion dollars languishing in a bank account, earning

minimal interest. George wanted to change that, fast,

getting that money invested in securities that would provide

higher return as well as safety and liquidity. His goal was

an 8% return.

George also had a timetable. He wanted his staff in place by

January first, and to be ready to concentrate on the AIDS

Education Project.

We didn't have any instructions for him. We'd be available

to help whenever he needed, but beyond that, he was on his

own.

We lurched toward Christmas. We'd included all Hydra

employees, including Lovebird, in the two-week shutdown, so

everyone was making preparations. The only group that would

remain at work was Lifeguard. George didn't feel that they

could take that much time off and still meet the deadlines

he'd set.

It wasn't going to be much of a vacation for us. The week

before Christmas would be total chaos at home, and Eric's

cousins were arriving the day after Christmas, six of them,

who'd be staying until after the New Year.

We received a big package from Maurice. In it were artist's

conceptions of how the restaurant would look from Brucie, a

cost breakdown from Mark, and a letter from Maurice

explaining everything and asking for our approval so they

could shoot for an April opening.

Eric and I both went over everything carefully. We

definitely approved of the renovation and redecorating.

Walls and ceiling a warm ivory with gold sconces on the walls

and pillars and huge chandeliers. The cost estimates on

furniture - tables and chairs was a major shock as was the

cost of tableware. Maurice explained, in his letter, that it

would be cheaper in the long run to buy "good stuff" than to

try to cut corners. Mark's comments agreed with that.

Renovation of the kitchen was less than I expected, but the

overall total of $2.5 million was more than I expected.

We worked up a projection based on what little we knew, and

the numbers came out that menu prices would have to be in the

$100.00 range which wasn't out of line. We gave them an OK

to go ahead and asked Mark to let us know when he'd need the

money.

Tina's prediction was becoming true. The decorating was, in

my opinion, being overdone, and they were only getting

started. It was too much for the kids and our staff to

handle so Gary had brought his own crew. Evergreen boughs

were arriving by the truckload, made into garlands and draped

everywhere. All of Sam's Poinsettias had been commandeered,

and not one but several Christmas trees were decorated.

The overall effect was colorful, that's for sure, and rather

"busy", but it did put me in the Christmas Spirit.

Hans arrived in the middle of all this chaos and was promptly

put to work. In order to simplify matters, he was put in a

guestroom in the girls' wing, and the three bedrooms in "our"

wing were held for the "cousins".

The pace quickened as Saturday approached. A tent big enough

to hold a three-ring circus was put up on the back 40. I

didn't even peek inside. According to rumor, it would be a

"Winter Wonderland".

After dinner Friday night, I pulled exhausted Eric aside.

"We're going to bed early tonight," I told him. "You NEED

some rest, and I'm going to relax you."

"I'll bet!" he said with a twinkle in his eye and a big grin.

"I'm not as good at giving massages as Jacques is," I told

him, straddling his legs, "so this is going to be short."

I rubbed his broad back, not even trying to dig into the

muscles, then rolled him over. "I'll take care of that in a

minute," I said, referring to his dick standing at

attention. I started with a scalp massage and worked my way

downward, gentle strokes, not intentionally erotic, watching

his dick bob and drip.

When I got to it, I straddled him again, putting our dicks

together. With well lubed hands, I stroked as lightly as I

could. No fancy stuff, just lightly up and down. He moaned

and groaned but didn't thrust up, just enjoying, looking into

my eyes with a blissful smile.

"Are you close?" he murmured.

"Fighting it," I told him.

"Let's go!" he said.

That's all it took for twin fountains of cum to spray all

over both of us.

I took a few licks then toweled off the rest. Before I could

turn out the lights, he was asleep.

All I knew was that most of those invited had accepted, not

that they'd all arrive at the same time. Jacques, manning

the front door, was overwhelmed, but managed to get them in.

I was also amazed at some of the people who arrived from all

over the country. Two limos unloaded half the population of

Texas, there was a big Arizona contingent, and Len and Lee

came from Massachusetts, among others.

Eric and I tried to greet everybody, but it just wasn't

possible even though we split up, and ended up just waving

at many.

Even after the initial crush, a steady stream of people

continued to arrive for another two hours, then it tapered

off. Finally, Eric and I were able to "circulate" and have a

little fun ourselves.

Most of the crowd had gone out to the tent where a band was

playing, but our large living room was still full. The noise

level was rising, and it appeared that everyone was having a

good time.

I saw that Spence, who'd arrived alone, was surrounded by

Lifeguards, and was smiling a lot. Len and George were

talking, no doubt about the Foundation. I'd introduced them

earlier.

I located Eric and we went out to the tent, me for the first

time. It was goddam unbelievable! Tall trees lined the

walls, covered in fake snow, there were snowmen and lights

everywhere. I couldn't estimate how many thousand tiny

twinkling lights there were covering the whole ceiling. The

overall effect was so realistic that I got a chill!

The dance floor was full, and I stopped for a minute to

watch. I saw Hans dancing, and it took me a minute to figure

out who he was dancing WITH. Holy shit! He was dancing with

one of the Lifeguards!

I pointed this out to Eric, who looked, then said "Don't

worry, I'm still positive he's straight."

"I wasn't worried, just amused," I told him.

We went in separate directions, table hopping. When I got to

Annie's table, she was giggling. "Did you see Hans?" she

wanted to know.

I nodded with one eyebrow raised.

"He wore us all out," she said, indicating the other girls at

the table, "and now he's working on them," she continued,

pointing over her shoulder at a table full of Lifeguards and

their boyfriends. "He's got so much energy I'm beginning to

wonder if he's on drugs," she giggled.

"I think he'll fit in just fine with our strange family," I

laughed.

At the next table, the Lifeguards got up to give me a group

hug. "Hans may be straight," they said, "but make sure Annie

doesn't let him get away! He's such a neat guy."

I worked my way around the room. This year, I knew virtually

everybody, for a change. The band, whoever they were, was a

good one, playing 70's and 80's Classic Rock at a decibel

level that wasn't painful.

Eric was already there when I arrived at the Texan's two

tables. I got a big hug from all the ladies, and Big George

unashamedly gave me one of his bear hugs. There were a

couple of empty seats, so we sat, for the first time in

hours.

We talked about the kids. Everyone approved of Rick, and

wanted to know all about Annie's new "beau".

"I think it's about time for another cruise," Claire

announced.

"We're ready when you are," Eric told her.

"Oh no you don't!" Big George roared. "You're not leaving us

home this time!" he said, indicating the other husbands.

"Don't you trust us with your womenfolk?" Eric giggled.

"It ain't that," Big George laughed, "we don't want to miss

out on all the fun y'all have."

Across the tent, I noticed that people from the house were

coming in, standing around as if waiting for something to

happen. It didn't really register because I was so involved

with the Texans.

I did notice that the band finished their number and didn't

start another right away. Then the lights on stage started

dimming and went out completely, followed by the tiny lights

on the roof of the tent until the whole place was totally

dark. Conversation stopped and the place became silent in

anticipation. Eric's arm went around me and pulled me to him.

The tinkling of a piano could be heard, then a voice,

starting low, came out of the darkness. It was

unmistakable. Al, singing his latest hit. The lights came

up, the whole crowd rose and roared, drowning him out.

I looked at Eric. He had an enormous grin, his eyes were

twinkling. I grinned back but didn't say a word.

The crowd quieted and Al continued singing, the band joining

in. Al wasn't just a singer, he was an entertainer, his

charisma totally capturing the audience. He segued from one

of his classics to another, getting rousing applause for each.

When he finally stopped and took a bow, the applause was

thundering. He held up his hand, and eventually it died

down. "This next song is dedicated to two of my very special

friends, Dave and Eric," he said. The band started and he

launched into "More".

Eric held me tighter and I totally lost it. Tears started

running down my cheeks uncontrollably. I looked at Eric who

was smiling as the tears poured down his cheeks too. We

stared into each others eyes and let them run. I had never

seen or felt love like I did for those few minutes while Al

was singing.

When he finished the song, there was a moment's silence,

then, the applause was deafening, everyone giving him a

standing ovation that, I'm sure, could be heard for miles.

Al waited, then started a medley of Christmas songs, soon

getting the whole crowd to join in. I worked to regain my

composure. Looking around the table, Eric and I were far

from the only ones who had been affected. There wasn't a dry

eye.

When Al finished, he yelled "Merry Christmas everybody!" the

lights went out and he disappeared from the stage.

When the lights came back up, Eric stood and pulled me up.

"You're going to have to excuse us," he said, dragging me

with him.

"How'd you pull that off?" I asked as Eric and I walked back

to the house.

"It was Al's idea," he said.

"You're going to have to explain THAT!" I told him.

"Later," he grinned.

Al and Rick were waiting in the den, Jacques serving them

drinks. I gave Al a big hug and said "Thank you!"

"Don't thank me yet," he said, "you haven't seen the bill

yet...for the band," he laughed. "I sing for my dinner,

remember, so where's the food?" he kidded.

I must have looked confused, because Al was laughing at me.

"I can't eat before I sing, and we're having a light supper

on the way home," he explained. "Speaking of which, we'd

better hit the road. You'll be calling me in a couple of

weeks, won't you, Eric?"

"I certainly will," Eric assured him.

There were goodbye hugs all around and we escorted them

through the throng in the house to their waiting limo.

"Don't worry, they're using the Gulfstream," Eric assured me.

Buffets had been set out, but I was too hyper to eat. John,

our friend the gossip columnist, immediately cornered me.

"Dave, you just HAVE to let me write about this. My God,

it's the party of the century!" he gushed.

"No, John, I'd prefer that you didn't," I told him. "But,

I'll make you a deal. Tina's getting married next spring and

we'll give you an exclusive, pictures and all."

"I can live with that," he agreed, very reluctantly.

Out in the tent, the party was coming back to life. Many

were still eating but the dance floor was full.

Tina grabbed me. "I didn't even know you knew him," she

said. "How did you get him to perform here?"

"I honestly don't know," I told her, "Eric did it."

I answered that same question so many times that I was ready

for Eric to take the stage and explain. I didn't have the

answers.

I danced a couple of times, slow ones, with Claire and Sandy,

Bill's wife. Sandy threatened to put me on the

"entertainment committee" for her next charity ball.

Hans had finally run out of gas and was sitting for a

change. I joined their table. "Sorry to say this," he said,

"but this party puts all of Sarah's to shame."

At 3:00 AM, the band packed up. Those remaining left

reluctantly.

As had become the custom, we gathered in the den for a party

post-mortem. "OK, babe, how'd you get Al to sing for us?" I

asked.

"Who's Al?" Rick asked.

"That's his real name," Eric explained, "the one you know is

his stage name."

"Come on, tell all," Annie begged.

"Your Dad and I met Al and Rick on St. John's, and became

good friends with both of them. Al called me when he got our

invitation. During our conversation, he asked if we'd like

him to sing. I told him "of course" but said that I'd never

ask him to do it.

"He volunteered, and suggested that we hire his band for the

whole evening. That's when I took over the music from you,

Annie. Anyway, we worked out all the details, and the rest

is history."

"It IS historic," Hans said. "For a concert like he put on

tonight, he gets millions, and he doesn't do many of those.

I consider myself very lucky to have been here."

"Hey Hans, what's this with you dancing with all the guys?" I

chuckled.

"Hope I didn't embarass you," he answered.

"On the contrary," I said. "It's good to see that gay guys

don't bother you."

"I'm not interested in any of them THAT way," he protested.

"A long time ago, I noticed that gay men had more fun than

anybody else, so I've had good gay friends all my life. It

seems to me that you Americans make too much of an issue out

of it."

"We do, unfortunately we do," Eric said.

We didn't wake up until noon. The kids were all gone and the

house had been returned to normal. It was a beautiful day

and Eric suggested that we work on our tans.

"I'm still curions," I said. "Why would Al do such a

wonderful thing for us?"

"I've thought about that, too," he admitted. "I've come up

with two reasons. One, he sincerely likes us, and two, the

Lifeguard Foundation."

"Why the Foundation?"

"Al's had his problems over the years, drugs, booze, some

really sleazy friends. I'm sure you've heard about them.

He's cleaned up his act, and sees active participation in the

Foundation as a way to gain 'respectability'. I have no

problem with that, and it works both ways. He can be an

enormous help to us, and I'll make damned sure that he gets

the recognition he deserves."

I thought about what he'd said for a minute. "You really are

a nice guy. I'm kinda glad I married you."

"It's a win-win situation," he continued. "He's going to be

opening doors for us that we'd have a hell of a time doing

ourselves, and we're going to help him feel better about

himself. Add to that the fact that we've made some damned

good friends. Everybody wins.

"I'm not ready to ask him to sit on the Board, yet, but I

think we should create a panel of 'Advisors' - well known

Educators, Doctors, and maybe even Politicians. He'd be in

that group."

"I'm sure that'd make him very happy," I said.

"I don't know what the hell to do about those cousins of

mine," Eric said, changing the subject. "If we knew the

'real story' we could plan. If they're gay like I think they

are, we could plan a party for New Year's Eve. If they're

straight, I haven't the foggiest notion what to do with them,"

he laughed. "Left THAT world a long time ago. One thing I AM

going to do is rent a big van so I can haul 'em around."

"We'll just play it by ear, it'll work out," I assured him.

Our conversation wandered. "Do you think the 'Widows' were

serious about going on another cruise?" he asked.

"Hard to tell."

"I can see it all now, two queers and a dozen of the biggest

rednecks in Texas!"

We'd already been through the agony of Christmas shopping.

No cars this year, the garage was already overflowing and

about all we did was drive back and forth to work anyway.

Eric, as usual, was impossible. Since they already had his

measurements, I had Brioni in Rome make him a dozen shirts in

various fabrics and colors, and had hit the toy stores and

Adult bookstores for some gag gifts.

We'd discussed this a year ago, so I contacted the San Diego

Zoo. They were planning a new, more natural, enclosure for

the elephants that they hadn't yet found funds for. I agreed

to donate the money for it, with the stipulation that there

wasn't to be any big press announcement, and that the

discreet placque on the exhibit would say only "A Gift from

Eric Lundborg".

The zoo provided me with a duplicate of the placque,

something that I'd be able to give to Eric. It would be

called "Elephant Oasis". It was in a presentation box and

Mary wrapped it for me.

I didn't have a clue what to get the girls. Eric was at a

loss too, until he came up with an idea. "Let's follow

through with the threat I made in France," he said. "We can

get them the jewelry they borrowed from Harry Winston, but

we'll only charge half of it to you, I'll take care of the

other half."

"Isn't that a lot of money?" I asked.

"I can afford it," he said, chuckling, his eyes twinkling,

"and I KNOW you can!"

When it arrived, we split it into four groups, one for each

of them from each of us. Mary wrapped them in huge boxes

with bricks in the bottom, filling the empty space with

stuffed animals we'd gotten at the toy store.

On Christmas Day, the routine was changed from past years.

It was decided that we'd wait until everyone was there until

we opened presents.

After breakfast, Eric suggested that we take a look at the

mountain of Christmas Cards we'd received. This was

something I hadn't done since I'd met him, just taking the

pile to my secretary so she could update my list.

Eric's mother had sent over the cards that'd come to his old

address, and Nancy had sent home the ones from my friends

that had come to the office. Those, plus the ones we got at

home made quite a pile.

Some were addressed to me only, some were addressed to Eric,

but the vast majority were addressed to both of us. As we

started through them, Eric organized them into piles, one for

his friends that I didn't know, one for mine that he didn't

know and business associates, and one for OUR friends.

As we went through them, we discussed the senders. "You've

gotta meet this guy," Eric said on several occasions. I had

a few comments of my own.

In a lot of ways, it was like dredging up the past, but we

were sharing it and learning more about each other as a

result.

Mixed in were several from my Northern California cousins.

That was a first! I hadn't heard from them in years, and the

most amazing part was that they were addressed to both of us.

Eric and I discussed this surprise. "I believe they're

extending an olive branch," he said.

"Why the sudden flip-flop?" I asked, "they've been ignoring

me for years."

"Maybe, at your Aunt's funeral, they saw that you weren't an

ogre waiting to pounce on their young sons," he giggled.

"I don't know..."

"They must have hurt you pretty badly," he said, putting his

arm around me.

"When you're told, flat out, that you're not welcome around

'decent people', yeah, that hurts," I said.

"Was it any of these who said that?" he asked, pointing at

the pile.

"No, their parents, but they went along with it for almost

twenty years."

"Can you forgive?"

"Not just like that," I snapped my fingers. "It's going to

take some time. You don't get over being shunned for that

long overnight, at least I don't. Even if they've changed

their tune, I think they were a bunch of goddam wusses for

going along in the first place."

"Give it a try," he suggested.

"We'll invite 'em to Tina's wedding, see what kind of tacky

gifts they send her and see if they show up. That'll be a

start." I was by no means convinced. Eric just grinned at

me and gave me a quick peck on the cheek. How could I resist

this guy?

Eric's parents arrived with a carload of presents. Spence

was right behind with so many he had to make several trips.

With the presents around the tree and all nine of us settled

with drinks, except Tina, of course, Eric and Rick

volunteered to play Santa Claus and distribute them. It took

a while, and the piles around each of us grew and grew.

If we'd taken turns opening our presents, it would have taken

all night, so Eric announced "Dig in!" to everybody.

Spence tore into his like the little kid he was. Eric was

just as eager. I watched for a few minutes then dug in myself.

I set the ones from Eric aside to open last, and noticed that

he had done the same thing. The girls, however, opened the

ones from us first.

Tina was first to get her present from Eric, open. The

stuffed animals gave her a puzzled look on her face. "Keep

digging," Eric advised her.

When she found the Harry Winston box, she squealed like a

little girl. Everybody stopped to watch her open it. When

she got the case open, her eyes got big as saucers. She took

a close look, jumped up and ran over to Eric for a big kiss

on the cheek. "Hope you charged it to Dad," she giggled.

Annie was a little less subdued. Stuffed animals flew in all

directions. Hans tried to catch them, mostly successfully.

When she got to the box, she opened it carefully, looked at

the contents closely, closed the box and walked over to Eric.

"You may be my mean old stepmother, but I sure do love you,"

she said, taking him into her arms.

"Hey, watch it, he's MINE!" I told her.

After that, they saved the ones from me for last.

It was getting to the bottom of the pile and time for me to

open the ones from Eric. I put the one labeled "Open in

private" aside, and went for a large flat one. It appeared

to be a couple of picture frames. I pulled one out, and it

was a framed Stock Certificate. On closer examination, I

realized what it was - the CLP Railroad Stock that had once

belonged to my Great-Grandfather.

The second was another Certificate, but showed the back,

showing who the stock had been transferred to, and witnessed

by one Sadie Carruthers, either the Madam or one of the

"Girls", I assumed.

"These are pieces of family history!" I told Eric, and

grabbed him in a big hug. "I'll give you the kiss later," I

whispered in his ear.

It was Eric's turn. He opened one of the small packages

first, one of the placques. "What is this?" he asked.

"A duplicate of that one will hang on the Elephants' new home

at the San Diego Zoo," I told him.

Eric wasn't the least bit inhibited. He grabbed me and

planted one right on my lips.

"What was THAT all about?" his mother asked.

"Dave gave the San Diego Zoo a new Elephant enclosure in my

name," he explained, taking the placque over to show her.

Annie and Tina were down to my gifts. When they saw more

animals, the animals went flying. They found the boxes,

opened them, took a quick look then swarmed all over me.

"We've gotta get a safe to keep these in," Annie commented.

"We've already got one," I told her. "I'll show you later."

When he could, Eric whispered in my ear "The safe in our

bedroom is full of you know what!"

"Relax," I told him, laughing. "We've got a bigger one in

the den."

My last present was from Eric. It was a rolled-up parchment

scroll announcing that the largest donation in their history

had been made to CRES in my name. I turned to Eric who was

beaming. "Great minds..." and a big hug.

It wasn't until we went to bed that I opened his "private"

gift and gave him the one I'd picked up at the dirty

bookstore.

Mine was a huge selection of "toys". Dildos in every

imaginable size and shape, some with vibrators and others

that moved in all sorts of weird ways. "These'll be fun to

play with, but when we do some serious lovin', I want the

real thing," I told him, patting his bulging crotch.

His box was an assortment of lubes and other "accessories".

"With all this stuff," he giggled, "I think it's playtime!"

"Not tonight, I want to get SERIOUS!"

His smile, and the kiss we shared told me that he agreed.

To be continued.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I appreciate hearing your comments on the

story, my writing, and anything you would like to offer -

good or not so good. Send me a message at

orrinrush@yahoo.com All messages answered.