Thank you for enjoying my writing; I have had enormous fun in the writing process and I hope you enjoy this chapter as well. Please remember that if you are not of age or if this type of material is not allowed in your jurisdiction, you must leave immediately. This material is copyright by the author and may not be used in any manner other than your reading here, without the express written permission of the copyright owner. Please be sure to make a contribution to Nifty.org in order to continue the free resource for authors and readers. If you have any comments, please address them to me at pjwltx9@gmail.com
FOUR
Phyllis Clarke was laid to rest mid-morning in the family plot she and Ben had purchased twenty years before. The little cemetery in San Bernardino county looked east toward the purple mountains that marked the end of the long spine that cascaded down the great San Andreas tectonic plate. Hillside Memorial Park in Redlands was just a short drive from the working-class neighborhood where Phyllis had grown up; she and Ben had dated while she was a student at Riverside City College. Ben had always admired her and her drive to become educated and build a career for herself. Her own parents, Depression-era babies she called them, had always struggled, and that was something she was determined would not happen to her and Ben or their family.
Mickey and Sam took Mickey's two sisters and their husbands to lunch with Ben at Carolyn's Café, one of Ben's favorite places in his hometown. Mickey's sister Helen and her husband Frank left soon after for their home in San Diego; his sister Hannah and her husband Gary lived only a short drive away in Riverside, where Gary was a high school teacher and athletic coach. Hannah invited Sam and Mickey to come and visit, but Sam felt a cold shoulder from Gary. Mickey said "Likewise, please come and see us anytime." He remarked to Sam later that he was sure that invitation fell on deaf ears.
As busy as they both were in their professional lives, Mickey and Sam always took time for each other, and now Mickey felt like he needed to add his Dad to that routine. Phyllis had been gone for less than two weeks when Mickey called his Dad's home phone; no answer. At first, he was not concerned, but after trying again over the next two days with the same result, he phoned his sister Hannah in Riverside. Hannah worked at the University hospital in Riverside; as a nursing supervisor, she had a very busy career as well as caring for her husband Gary and two teenage children. She was surprised when Mickey phoned; she told him she had not been in contact with their father since the funeral.
At that point Mickey decided to call Helen in San Diego; he got the same result. Helen had not heard from Ben in two weeks, but as the media director for the San Diego Ballet she was too busy to recall when exactly she had spoken with Ben last. Before he went charging off to Redlands on his white horse, he called a friend from high school who still lived in the same neighborhood; he promised Mickey he would drive by the house that evening. By the time the phone rang at nearly 9 PM, Mickey was ready to jog all the way out to his Dad's house. David Pomeroy reported that Ben was at home, enjoying a PBR, sitting in his lounge chair watching baseball and wondering what the fuss was about. Ben could not find his cell phone.
Mickey and Sam discussed how to approach the situation with Ben; Sam recalled his grandfather's death back in Sacramento almost two decades ago when Sam was a student at Sacramento State University. He felt that it was important for Mickey to keep in close contact with Ben; no one wants to look backward and regret missing an opportunity. The following Saturday they drove out to Redlands. Ben was weeding the garden, throwing a bag of steer manure on the flower beds. He appeared to be in good health and relatively good spirits considering his wife's recent passing.
Mickey used his best Dr. Clarke skills to get Ben to explain why he had not been in contact: it finally became apparent to Sam, at least, that Ben had been keeping company with several single women who were in the neighborhood. Ben would not come right out and give Mickey a direct answer, but Sam grinned broadly at the thought of his father-in-law jumping into the dating pool again. "So, you are not running away from home in your RV any time soon?" Sam asked.
"Maybe when the weather turns colder" Ben replied. "I would like to go see Puerto Peñasco."
"Good idea" Mickey responded.
When they were driving back west on I-10, Sam explained to Mickey what was happening with Ben. "Oh my god, you must be kidding."
"Nope, he gave me that look and then glanced sideways at you and winked."
"Oh god." Mickey felt incredibly foolish. "He winked?"
They both laughed. It felt good; Mickey had no idea how much longer he might have his Dad in his life, but he wanted it to be a good time for both of them. He and Sam decided that they wanted to take Ben with them on a short trip to Hawaii; maybe just a long weekend. As far as Mickey knew, his father had never been to the islands.
The middle of the week following, Mario called Mickey at his office in Beverly Hills; "Hey Doc can you swing by the law office on your way home? There are a couple of things I want to get your advice about." Mickey had to laugh; that was the first time Mario had addressed him in that fashion.
The first issue, it turned out, was that Ross was having health problems; Ross was nearly Mason's age. He should have retired several years ago but he was enjoying running his consulting practice and helping Joaquin with the art gallery. The second issue, Mario confided, was the law firm itself. There were some nagging problems with staff morale that Mario sensed were beyond Terry Baylor's inclination or capacity to handle. Mickey agreed to schedule some time with Terry in a week to try to understand the situation, rather than blind-side him by presenting a solution when Terry was not sure there was a problem.
There was a third issue: Mario's age. He was still as active as ever, but now at 65, seemed to be just a little slower in some ways. It hurt Mickey to witness it and he was not sure how to manage that information.
That night as Sam was holding Mickey in bed, he asked "So Doc how are things at the new office?"
"Busy as Hell. I am up to my eyeballs in work and have not even had time yet to meet all of my clients, let alone begin to try to do any new-client marketing."
"Sounds like you need a PA" Sam laughed.
"I have one, but she does not really grasp the concept; when I was Mario's PA, I did three times the work she does, and it feels like she is just content to do scheduling but not much more."
"But Mickey, your forté is inter-personal relationships. Surely you know how to handle this. This is Org-Behavior 101."
"Yep. Basic Stephen Covey stuff. And thanks, by the way."
"For what?" Sam chuckled.
"Making me feel stupid."
Sam sat up in bed. "Babe, I certainly did not mean to do that. I apologize. I just thought for a minute there that you had forgotten what your main mission is all about. I'm sorry. Sometimes I shoot my mouth off before my brain engages."
Mickey said "It's OK Sam, I'm kinda kidding you. But I did need to be reminded, and yes you are correct. She needs to be set straight and it is my job to do that. And I am wondering, is this our first fight?"
They hugged and kissed, and Sam rolled on his side to snuggle Mickey with his chest against Mickey's back. "If we are fighting, this is the fun part- making up" he mumbled.
As much as Mickey had on his mind, he slept surprisingly well. When he awoke in the morning and was showering and shaving it occurred to him how good his life was: he had an almost-perfect husband, a great career, great friends, and had checked off all the major goals on his life-list. He stepped out of the en-suite and grabbed his cell phone and called his PA and left a voice-mail message: "Gretchen please see if you can schedule a short meeting with me first thing this morning before anything else on my calendar." As he was knotting his tie, his cell rang: he assumed it would be Gretchen; he was surprised to hear his Dad's voice.
"I'm going to take the RV and run down to Mexico for a few days. I did not want you to worry, and I am still planning on seeing you and Sam for Thanksgiving." Mickey had completely forgotten about the big holiday coming up: his Mom had always had a huge feast at the house in Redlands and expected everyone to be there, and Ben wanted to do that again this year as well.
"Got it Dad, thanks for the reminder. I will tell Sam. We are looking forward to seeing you again. Have fun in Mexico and be careful; please call me when you get back home."
"Love you Mick."
That was the first time Mickey could remember hearing his Dad say those words. He was in awe as he hung up the phone and grabbed his briefcase and headed out to the garage. He smiled all the way driving in to the office; he almost forgot his intention to speak with Gretchen. She was standing in his office doorway when he arrived.
"Ah. Good to see you. Let me grab some coffee; come in and let's chat."
Gretchen looked nervous; he wanted to put her at ease and yet wanted her to change course in her attitude toward her assignment and pick up some slack. A lot of slack. "Please tell me what you think are the five most important functions in your position" he began.
She could only name three: scheduling, managing client communications, and "Gosh, what was that third thingy?" She was chagrined.
Mickey said "Well let me help you out. Here is what I think is important for you to be managing in your position so that I can function better in my position." He then spent a few minutes describing for her his previous work as Mario Garza's PA at the law firm, and how that eventually led to him being promoted to managing partner.
"So, you see," he concluded, "in a way I want you to be the managing partner here for you and me: I need you to be aware of all of the things that the company expects me to accomplish and make sure my pathway is clear to do that. Which means, besides just scheduling, you need to confer with me at the beginning of each day to decide what are our goals for that day and keep track of all of the things that have to happen to succeed in those goals day-by-day and week-by-week."
"I never though of it that way" Gretchen confessed. "You know I am not lazy- I just was not aware of what you expected out of me. I felt kind of foolish just hanging out here with not much to do." She seemed more ashamed rather than defensive.
"Well now you know how important you are as a member of this team" Mickey concluded. By the end of the week, Gretchen had a totally different attitude: she was no longer late in arriving in the mornings or fidgeting to leave early in the afternoons. She had constructed a `goal board' for Mickey with specific projects and mile-posts for each project. One of the goals was new-client marketing; she assigned herself some potential new contacts and asked Mickey for coaching on how to conduct that aspect of the business.
He was impressed that this was a new Gretchen, not just the sorority girl who had morphed from intern to PA. Within a month, she had landed her first new client and was seated at the conference table with Mickey when the contract was signed.
Sam congratulated Mickey: "You see Doc, I knew you could pull this off."
Mickey thanked Sam, and said "You have always been my biggest inspiration."
Thanksgiving was enormous fun for Sam; not so much for Mickey. He and Sam drove out to Redlands a day early to stay with Ben and help prepare the big meal. Ben already had the turkey marinating in a gallon of Wild Turkey; Sam was chopping veggies while Mickey was gone out shopping for pies. Nobody made pie crust like Phyllis, so there was no need to try to compete with that memory.
Early the next day Hannah and Gary arrived with their two teenagers; living close by in Riverside it was an easy commute for them. Gary immediately parked himself in the den in front of Ben's huge TV to watch football while the teenagers, a boy and a girl, were hard-wired to their cell phones texting and chatting and gaming and listening to music. Helen and Frank arrived about noon, with their adorable Cocka-Poo "Pirouette". Designer dogs were the rage in southern California, and if the Kardashians could have one, certainly so could Helen. Pirouette had great personality; Sam wished it could talk so it could spill all the secrets of the lives of Frank and Helen.
The feast was served at 6 PM; wine and beer and soft drinks, with the huge roast bird and the stuffing. Sam's contribution of the green bean casserole and the baked sweet potato soufflé and the mashed potatoes and gravy, followed by Mickey's pies with whipped cream, had everyone groaning. During the dinner Mickey and Sam did their best to keep the conversation with Ben light-hearted; Helen seemed Hell-bent on bringing up the great burden of sadness that she felt over the absence of Phyllis. Mickey wanted to slap her, but Ben took control of the moment.
"I'm no priest or minister or rabbi, but I'm also damn sure she ain't laying around on some golden cloud strumming a harp, just bored waiting for all of us to get up there." Sam and the two teenagers laughed, and Mickey punched Sam's ribs.
"Well that is not at all what I meant" Helen retorted. "I just meant that this family gathering would haver been a lot more sacred to Mom in some ways."
Ben said "Let me see if I am hearing you right, Daughter. If you are thinking what It sounds like your bent little mind is stirring up, let me assure you that having Mickey and Sam here with their feet under MY table was not only my idea, but would have been the first invitation extended by Phyllis if she was here today. Am I getting close to the target here?" Ben was clearly angry at Helen.
"Well, it just seems to me that the meaning of `family' isn't what it used to be in America anymore." The snickering from the two teenagers could not be ignored. Before Hannah could shush them, her husband Gary said "Yep, that's right."
Mickey said in a voice choked with emotion "Maybe it's time for Sam and me to say goodnight." He started to stand up.
Ben said "Mick, son, you have as much right to be here as anyone; and as far as I recall, the god-damn Supreme Court said you have a right to be married, and you did get married, right?"
"Yes sir."
"So, nobody here is sailing under a false flag, correct?"
"No sir." Mickey could already see where this was headed.
"So, if anyone here at this table is uncomfortable with this situation, you might be better off having dinner down the road at McDonald's next year." Ben dropped his dessert fork dramatically. Sam stood up; Mickey grabbed his hand.
"I would like to go make some coffee. Anyone feel like a cup?"
"Make mine with JD" chuckled Ben.
Hannah's two teenage kids were covering their faces with napkins; the Cocka-Poo looked anxiously from one face to another. It was as upset as Mickey, it seemed. Mickey went into the kitchen to "help" Sam with the coffee. He found the Jack Daniels in a side cabinet, which he took out to the table and placed next to his father. "May I have some of that, Grandpa?" Hannah's son asked.
Ben said "Sure, son" at the same moment as Hannah said "Hell no!"
Sam returned with the coffee and a tray of cups and saucers; Mickey brought the creamer and sweeteners. Gary excused himself to go claim his place in front of the TV, and Helen and Frank said they needed to take the dog home.
Just before they went to the guest room for the night, Sam and Mickey told Ben what a wonderful time they had been having; Ben laughed and said "I'm not senile yet. Don't lie to me. It was a mad dash for the door the minute dinner was over, I'm sure you noticed. Frank and Helen couldn't even help with the dirty dishes."
"Dad, it's OK. We have seen and heard worse."
"Not in my house, by God" Ben said. "But at least the grandkids will have something to gossip about to their friends at school."
"Speaking of that, we would sure love to have them come and visit us at the beach, and you too, anytime you feel like it."
Sam joined Mickey: "Yes, please Ben, we would really enjoy having you over for a day or two."
"Maybe after New Year's when I get back from Mexico" Ben mused.
Mickey laughed: "You must have some cute little señoritas down there."
"Just one" Ben deadpanned. "I ain't dead yet."
Sam quickly jumped into the bedroom to keep his composure. Ben said, "Goodnight boys" and strode away to his room. Mickey was left alone with his jaw dropped. "What the Hell" he was muttering as Sam lay on the bed with a pillow covering his loud laughter.
The remainder of the year passed quickly: Sam and Mickey made the rounds of all the company holiday parties, starting with Mickey's office party which was held at the Beverly Wilshire Hotel. The local partners as well as the national president were in attendance; Mickey was introduced to all the `big' names and they left as soon as it was polite to do so. Sam threw a party for all his clients as well: with over forty national major league-level sports players from football, baseball, and basketball on his roster, Sam was in "high clover" as his grandfather would say.
The party was held at the new "W" hotel in Beverly Hills and went until just past midnight. Sam and Mickey stayed in the hotel for the night rather than driving home. Mickey knew that Sam charged a flat fee of one percent of the annual salary of the players who were his clients; with an average of $5,000,000 per player, Sam was raking in approximately two million bucks a year.
The law firm held a late-afternoon buffet meet-and-greet for partners, staff, and spouses, and Mickey and Sam were delighted to be invited. Finally, a quiet yet nostalgic New Year's Eve party was held at Mario and Peter's home: Mickey realized they had not been at the Malibu house for several months, probably not since late summer. Peter and Mario looked fabulous as always; Ross and Joaquin were aging gracefully, and Simon Robertson and his most recent boyfriend looked relaxed and happy. Stuart and Raj were clearly exhausted: duties as the Governor's hired guns was a stressful job.
It was the third Saturday after the new year when Mickey finally got a phone call from Ben: "I'm back" sounded through the phone but the tone of voice was more like a college kid on spring break. Ben agreed to come over to Santa Monica in a week; Mickey was anxious to see his father.
"The señorita must have been good medicine for you" Mickey remarked when Ben rang the doorbell at the condo.
"Yep, I guess so. Have not felt this good in years."
They laughed and hugged and smiled; Ben truly looked like a new man. Mickey was glad for his Dad; he was not upset that Ben had progressed after the death of his mother. He was enjoying seeing his father in a new way.
They spent the weekend relaxing, taking Ben on a helicopter tour of the coast from Santa Monica airport to Avalon and back, with dinner at Simon's restaurant D'Urban. The next morning, they took a sailboat north along the coast to Santa Barbara; it was a long trip and so they stayed overnight at a B&B Mario had told them about where he had stayed with Mason.
Years later, reflecting on the events of the weekend, Mickey always smiled. His Dad's final years were happy ones, not spent in deep sorrow missing Phyllis. Ben spent his time fishing on the trout streams in Big Bear, sailing on the Sea of Cortez with a charter out of Puerto Peñasco, camping on the beaches up and down the coast in his RV. When the end came, Sam remarked on what a happy time they had always enjoyed in Ben's company.
Ben had always joked that he wanted to die from being shot by a jealous husband; that was very nearly the case. He died from a heart attack in the bed of his neighbor, a former friend of Phyllis. Marjorie Simmons had been the president of the neighborhood ladies garden club; apparently Ben had been showing her how to fertilize her flowers.
Peter Schilling had once remarked that his grandmother Campbell always thought that death comes in triplicate: within a week of Ben's passing, Ross James, the former lover and long-time friend of Mason, had also passed. Word reached them that Tommy Baylor had died in a car accident in India; Mario was now the last man standing of the original partners in Baylor, McLean, and Garza.
Mickey defied his two sister's wishes and took Ben's ashes 15,000 feet up in the clear sparkling-blue air over Redlands, California. There, he let the ashes float out of the open cargo door of the airplane, and when the air had cleared again, he and Sam dove out the door sky-diving. It was a late autumn morning so the hot Santa Ana winds had subsided; it was gorgeous weather to be sky-diving. When they were both safely on the ground again, Mickey grabbed Sam and shouted "Happy Birthday!" It was Sam's fortieth; Sam's mother was expected to fly in that evening for a small party. Mario and Peter were coming to the condo for cake and ice cream and were bringing Joaquin with them.
When they were alone in bed hours later, Sam turned to Mickey and said "There are two things I never thought I would see. I never planned on being this old: when I was first learning to surf in Malibu as a teenager I thought I could live forever without counting the years."
"What is the second thing?" Mickey asked.
"You. I have never been happier in my life; having you is the most important thing in my life. Waking up next to you every morning, being fulfilled by you and your brilliance, has made all of the difference."
Mickey grabbed Sam's cock; he stiffened almost instantly, and Mickey wasted no time in taking it in his mouth. When Mickey thought Sam was moistened and lubed enough, he knelt over the Dick of Death and aimed it at his own asshole and took it in all at once.
There is an amazing feeling of having a cock like that in your ass: at the same time familiar and comforting, yet still alarming and threatening to push you way past comfortable and into severe pain. Walking that tight-rope was always a great thrill for Mickey. He came before Sam, shooting a thick pool of cum on Sam's navel. The heat in his ass told him Sam had left a record-breaking amount of cum inside of him.
Standing before his grad-school class at the lectern a few days later, Mickey smiled at the recollection of that fuck. Damn, Sam was so distracting, Mickey thought: not wise getting hard while trying to lecture to thirty doctoral students on the dynamics of motivation in leadership.
His early retirement from the consulting firm had been immediately replaced by a professorship; he was fulfilling one of the `life-goals' he had confessed to the LA Times Sunday magazine years before. In his side-job of consulting, he had purchased Ross James' practice and continued the work Ross had established two decades earlier.
`R. G. James Associates' in Beverly Hills was a lucrative and challenging practice. Mickey did not command the fees that Sam earned in his sports administration consulting practice, but they both enjoyed their work and the freedom and challenges of being independent. He had asked Sam over dinner on Sunday night at home in the condo when he thought he might retire; Sam had laughed "Never" but Mickey knew that was probably not the case.
Mickey knew that Sam got bored easily. He was not shallow or simple-minded. In fact, Sam was the opposite: he was complex and highly intelligent, and just needed to keep moving forward and challenging himself. Those challenges took many forms: his professional career, physical effort such as running or working out at the gym, his obsession with the Sunday newspaper crossword puzzle, volunteer work, and travel. As a consequence of all of that, Mickey suspected that Sam would have a very busy retirement.
"Have you thought of writing a book?" Mickey asked Sam. "I am sure there are a lot of really interesting things you have to tell the world about your business experience."
"Do you mean you just want me to gossip about the sports stars I have worked with?"
"Oh, no, I was thinking more of a kiss-and-tell style book in which you confess all of the nasty details of our sex life."
"That will be a best seller" Sam laughed.
Sam grabbed Mickey's hand: "Let's go practice" he grinned.
It was another wonderful example of how these two, so different and yet so similar, had melded into one of the most compatible and comfortable gay couples in California. Mickey easily slid his thick 8 inches into Sam's lubed and warm ass, and slowly and satisfactorily pumped out a couple million sperm in under ten minutes. Sam's moaning was Mickey's reward: he was stilled turned on and needed Sam's Dick of Death in his own ass. By the time they had filled each other with cum and lay comfortably panting on the duvet, Mickey was reminded once again that he lived a charmed life.
It was Memorial Day weekend; they had arranged with Mario to meet him at the new Malibu Memorial Park. Mario had installed a headstone for Mason, even though Mason's ashes had been scattered along the beach below their home. Joaquin joined them, as he had recently set up the headstone for Ross. After a quick lunch with Peter and Mario at their famous home, Mickey and Sam drove to Redlands to put flowers on the graves of Phyllis and Ben Clarke. Mickey's sister Hannah joined them there; her husband Gary was gone fishing and camping on the Colorado river with friends.
Hannah had startling news for Mickey: she said she was glad Gary was not at home for the weekend, as she was looking for a small apartment for herself near her work. She had recently filed for divorce. Sam and Mickey were both saddened by that news: they urged Hannah to come and visit them on the coast to spend a day or two. Her kids were both in college and were expected home for the summer in a week; Sam insisted that she come to the condo in Santa Monica and brings the kids.
The following day Sam and Mickey were flying up to Sacramento to meet Sam's mother Elizabeth Stephenson; they were arranging flowers to be left on the graves of Sam's grandparent and Elizabeth's brother Drew. Elizabeth's cousin Paul Campbell and his husband David Branson were there as well: Elizabeth and Paul gossiped about family news and got up to speed with each other and made promises to visit more often. Mickey was pleased to see Sam's family: his own seemed to be such a disappointment.
Paul and David invited them to come out to their ranch for lunch: over an impromptu and informal meal, Sam asked all kinds of questions about how Paul and David had met, about their careers, about their children, and about family history. Sam had been on the periphery of family relationships over the years and appreciated the information. Paul showed him his extensive photo album, with the Campbell and Woodruff grandparents as well as Paul's parents and his and David's two children.
In turn, David Branson asked about Sam and Mickey, how they had met and about their careers. By the time they had finished all of the family history and the interrogatories, it was past dusk and Sam and Mickey were invited to stay that night at the ranch.
The following morning they called the airline and changed their travel plans, and spent the day with Paul and David touring the ranch. They did not have time to see all of it: there were several thousand acres of rice as well as walnut, almond, pistachio, and peach orchards. Instead, David and Paul took them in the ranch foreman's jeep up into the hills where the old log cabin still stood that great-grandfather Campbell had built. Paul related how his father had died from a heart attack induced by a rattlesnake bite just a few yards from the cabin; he still missed his Dad, Paul said.
Flying back to LA, Sam asked Mickey "Paul's stories made me think: do you ever think about life and death and eternity and that stuff?"
"Sure. I want to spend eternity with you." Mickey glanced at Sam to see what his mood was: it was always hard to read Sam. His husband was a serious thinker, but never showed it outwardly. Sam was always displaying the happy-go-lucky persona of the teenage surfer he had once been.
"I guess this weekend has made me think a lot about that stuff. God and death and eternity and all of the wonderful people we have known over the years. I wish there were some absolutes."
"Well I have good news and bad news" Mickey began. "I don't think there are any absolutes."
"What's the bad news?" Sam joked. They both laughed.
Sam retorted: "You know my Mom's family was Mormon; I guess you heard that from Paul Campbell. He and David met as missionaries in Japan."
Mickey wondered where this was going to lead.
"I think that Mormons believe there is no Heaven or Hell, just a series of Heavens depending on how good you were here on Earth, or something like that. I am not sure; Mom never took us to church since her mom, my grandma Schilling, left the church right after she and Grandpa got married. Maybe Uncle Peter knows." Sam sighed.
"Babe, is something wrong?" Mickey was concerned.
"No. Yes. Not really."
"OK you have succeeded in confusing me."
Sam shifted in his airline seat; "Let me try to explain."
Sam related his beliefs in how everything fits together: it was a grand panorama of the Universe and our place in it as humans. "I think there is probably something most people call God', or maybe better put a creative force in the Universe, but clearly I do not believe in some patriarchal Old Testament God who punishes us all of the time with all of those Thou Shalt Nots'."
Mickey waited a few minutes: Sam seemed to be lost in his own thoughts. Sam finally asked "What about you, Love?"
"Well that word you just used, `love', I think is the most powerful and important word in the Universe. I think that if there is a god, or what you have said is the creative force, then that force is the origin of all love that has come to us as humans. I think that the only reason we are here on this planet is to find love, and to create love, and to give love to each other."
"You know Mickey I am not at all surprised to hear you say that; I have known for a long time that you love me, more from how you act and how you treat me, than from what you say. It's also obvious in how you treat everyone else: I see you working day to day and I see the people you meet, the clients you have, even strangers, all feel your love." They kissed lightly.