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The Schuyler Fortune III: Elderberry 2
There was a memorial service for Marcus at the church he had attended for five decades or more. His mother and brother attended. The little twin boys that he and Michael had adopted were there, now grown, looking down again at the aisle carpet they had laid on and laughed at the preacher's robes that first Sabbath.
Their grandmother Carol Schuyler was there; the former President, Barbara Schuyler and her husband and teenagers attended. The Secret Service and the Schuyler security teams were there. The church was jammed with members who knew and loved his family. Darren had flown in from Tucson before the accident. He sat with Eric and Loren.
The choir sang, John the organist played, a tenor quartet sang a new staggeringly beautiful hymn arrangement, polyphonic, with soaring contrapuntal threads based on the hymn `I Lay My Sins on Jesus', and a different preacher in different robes spoke about the Adventist view of life after death, a view both quite Biblical and very different from traditional views of eternal hellfire and torture of sinners that Jesus loved and died for.
Michael, grieving, missed his husband deeply. Those working closely with him noted a profound sadness tending to short-circuit, for a while, his business decisions and slow him down.
After a couple of missed deadlines with financial consequences, he began to major in minute details, losing sight on occasion of life's big picture.
One day he called Blossom and asked if she would talk to him about Marcus and how much they both missed him. "What should we do to remember him?" he asked.
"I don't want to forget him. He loved me so damn much. He was my best friend and had my back."
Blossom paused for a few moments, looking out over the park at the children playing there.
"I don't think there is much danger you will ever forget my son. I believe that he is sleeping now, waiting for Jesus to come back as He promised to do and on that wonderful day, you and Marcus will be together again to see Jesus return. The Bible says, you know, that every eye will see him."
"Marcus loved Jesus very much and would want you to be ready to go with him to be in heaven together forever. I hope that you want that and will accept the offer that Jesus made to cover your sins and mine and everyone else's. Marcus, like everyone else, was a sinner and Jesus paid the price for his sins. Yours too."
"Michael, you don't have to be perfect to accept that offer. You will have to read His word, the Bible and find Jesus there and have a love relationship with Jesus. Trust Jesus on this one, Michael, he had your back before Marcus did and still does."
"In the meantime, what would you say if the family planted a forest somewhere to celebrate his life? A forest that gave life-giving oxygen to some area, that we could visit while we are still alive, and it could remind us of Marcus. Marcus won't see it. He's asleep. But we will."
Michael began to cry softly, then harder on the sofa, hunched over in grief. Blossom reached over and touched his hand.
"Jesus knows," she said, "and what's even better, He cares about you."
The next day Michael called the preacher at Marcus's church and asked to meet him. They met at the church at 10:00 a.m., talked for a while, the preacher listened for a long time, asked if Michael had a Bible that was easy to read, gave him a Clear Word Bible and a New International Version and challenged him to read two or three chapters a day starting in Matthew.
"Jesus has a lot to say to us in the whole Bible." It was all preserved through the centuries to tell us what God is like. He's not the harsh judge who is out to get us, He's not the vengeful God who will torture us for eternity if we get out of line, His only goal for us is to be with us forever if we will let Him and He will give us the strength to want to do right, the courage to accept Him, the faith to believe that He exists and provide a lot of evidence of His love every day to anyone who is looking for Him."
Michael started reading that night and never stopped. He began to pray very short prayers at first by himself, asking for the gift of faith and courage and strength and open eyes to see good around him.
Michael would have preferred that he himself see the first evidence of the changes in his life that occurred over a short time after Blossom's intervention, God's intervention, in his life.
As it was, however, his entire household, staff, family members, security, business associates, maintenance...everyone noted that he was on an even keel again and even happy. A maid told the Housekeeper that she heard him whistle one day walking down the hall. She hadn't heard that out of him for a while.
Darren proved to be a lifesaver for Michael in the next few weeks. Darren knew he couldn't replace Marcus and didn't try. He did provide solace and pleasure to Michael and a good ear. Beside his museum administration duties, he found a place teaching finance at a law school in the city.
A few months later over supper, Darren reminded Michael of the talk they had in Tucson and the question that Darren had asked. "What happens if I find a guy in the city?"
Michael, a little surprised, asked Darren if he had. Found someone, that is.
"I have a student just finishing law school from Iowa. He's a farm boy, corn-fed, solid, all-muscle, light brown hair, pays attention to details, a little shy, doesn't miss much...and he stares at my junk in lectures from the front row, looks away when I ask him a question or down at my junk."
"I'm getting a message or a complex, don't know which. He doesn't know about you that I know about, doesn't know that I like men, we don't talk outside the classroom."
"In a few days I won't have a student-teacher relationship with him anymore."
"I'm interested in this guy, but not to the exclusion of you. Can you help me figure this one out? His name is Tom Gratz."
"I'd like to meet him, Darren. Are you considering sharing? If you're thinking poly here, we can meet him together. If he likes us not knowing about the green paper, that's a step in the right direction."
"Sounds good. How about Antonio's in Soho Friday night?"
"OK. You invite him and let him know its Dutch. If you want me to go too, we'll wear jeans and tennis shoes."
"I want you and him... if you like him, Michael."
Darren asked Tom to stay after class on Monday and invited him to supper that Friday night. He mentioned that a friend of his, Michael, had been invited.
Tom, as shy as his reputation, almost refused but had been thinking about the 'junk' all weekend and decided to go for it.
On Friday night, the men met at Antonio's, sat family style, Michael next to Tom and Darren across the checkerboarded picnic table from Michael and Tom. Michael mentioned to Tom that Darren and he had been friends for years. Tom glanced over to Michael who received the full warmth of Tom's eyes for a few seconds.
"You're lucky."
"I knew him when he was just...well, our boy grew up." Michael grinned and raised an eyebrow.
Tom blushed and let out a held breath. "I'll just bet he has," he mumbled.
Darren smiled and told Tom that he was welcome to have a closer look at whatever interested him whenever he wanted now that Tom had finished Darren's class and received his final grade. Tom's hands started to tremble a little, but he rallied, grasped the table edge and replied that he wouldn't turn that down.
They finished their pasta and beer, then Michael asked Tom if he had any other plans for the evening. "Nah, just relaxin, I guess."
"Wanna come home with us and play?"
"I sure do." Slow, succinct, strong, shyness almost overcome. They paid their bills separately and entered a taxi.
They took the staff entrance to the park and security passed them through the back entrance. Tom peered around, craning his powerful neck as they ascended to the fourth floor and entered Darren's suite.
"Make yourself at home, Tom." Michael took off his coat and hung it over the back of a chair, prompting Darren and Tom to do the same. "Water, anyone?"
They didn't seem interested. "Coffee, tea, us?"
"Us," replied Tom, breathing deep and blushing to his roots. Darren and Michael continued their matter-of-fact strip-down to skin and watched Tom catch up pretty quick. Tom then had a real long look at Darren's junk, then Darren's face and body, then back to Darren's cock. Tom fell to his knees and Darren's cock disappeared down his throat. The energy in the room was palpable, masculine and the view was astounding.
"I'm a grower," said Tom later. "Always was in high school and college. I do OK once I get into fucking, but don't ordinarily hang down to my knees or anything."
"No need to apologize, Tom." Tom's mouth was stuffed full by this time.
"This is my first time with two guys," Tom told them between exclamations of pleasure, "...beats watching the horses breed... I could get used to this real quick. I'm gonna spurt guys. "
Sure enough, ribbons of sweet and salty cum flew fertilized the floor and then Darren exploded into Tom's mouth. He could barely swallow fast enough. Michael reached through with a finger to wet Tom's backside. Tom responded in a positive way and soon found himself the target of Michael's well-aimed cock pressing in.
After a few minutes of that, Darren lay on his back, butt to butt with Michael on his back so that their cocks were close together. They guided Tom to themselves, Tom slowly lubricated himself and them and sat down very slowly on the two men. Darren and Michael slowly moved inside of Tom and Tom rode them like the Iowa farm boy he was. They all exploded in a fierce, white-hot flow of cum and feeling.
Tom fell to the bed to rest.
"I'm ready to marry you both." Tom had enjoyed the session. His shyness was on the run.
"We probably should get to know each other first." Michael was the planner of the group. "We have space for another lover in the house.
We could use another finance type at the Blossom Jones fund if you are looking for employment... the sex isn't required for employment or advancement."
"Best way to start would be a trip to see Alain and Saul after you graduate."
The scheduling secretary got a call the next morning to ready Trois Mousquetaires for a trip to France. The trust caterers spoke with Tom about his preferences regarding food.
Darren and Michael attended the graduation, speculated whether Tom would be wearing anything beneath his graduation robe (they hoped not) and pinpointed some dates to offer Tom for his graduation vacation trip.
There were three red-blooded males that found themselves naked on Trois Mousquetaires' huge bed that trip.
Michael looked over and watched Tom carefully, deliberately fucking Darren, breeding his ex-professor with precision, Darren moaning half in pain, half in a trance, on occasion squealing like a pig in heat taking it from the boar.
`Lawyer farm-boy making good in the city', thought Tom. He could see the headlines now in his hometown newspaper. They easily fit in the shower. After all were finished and dried off, they dressed and went to the main cabin where a big meal was served while the staff freshened up the bedroom and shower.
The men left Trois Mousquetaires at the Orly hangar, piled in an awaiting limousine and were soon checking into the Georges Cinq. A slightly older version of Alain himself greeted them at the door and showed them to a larger suite with three bedrooms and two bathrooms.
"Bienvenue!" he announced, "the resources of the Georges Cinq are at your disposal." As an aside, he smiled at Michael and whispered in English that all of the resources he could think of were available.
Michael invited him and Saul to be their guest that evening for supper the Michelin three-starred Alain Ducasse restaurant at the Plaza Athénée, Tom's first experience with haute cuisine. "We have all these things in the garden at home except the fish," said Tom, "We don't fix em this good."
Michael showed Darren and Tom his favorite spots in the Louvre, neither showing a lot of interest. They didn't have a background in art. They wanted instead, to see Napoleon's Tomb at Les Invalides and go up in the Eiffel Tower. They dragged Michael to a river boat for a ride on the Seine and found lemon crepes on the street to dangle near his lush mouth.
They wanted to tour the French equivalent of the NYSE, the Paris Bourse, rumored to be about ready to merge with other European exchanges into Euronext. They wanted to see the nightlife in Le Marais.
It was apparent to Michael that his interests other than sex were discordant with Darren and Tom. He grew a little distant that trip trying to forget Marcus, failing, grieving still, a little cranky. Darren and Tom weren't stupid, were observant and loving, and didn't know how to help other than give Michael space
Michael looked forward to working with Loren and Eric again to make certain that the Schuyler fortune was in good hands. Michael began to think he couldn't, and didn't want to try, to spend his way to happiness again.
For their part, Darren and Tom became convinced that their relationship with Michael wasn't nearly as much a positive as it had first appeared. Tom hadn't known Marcus so had a problem appreciating his memory through Michael. Darren, now besotted by Tom and his hero worship, had less time on the trip to France to sit down with Michael and just listen to him.
On their return to Teterboro, a quiet group of three men entered the museum, Tom and Darren not saying much. They headed to Darren's room, leaving Michael to his own devices that first night. The next day, they found Michael, sat him down and asked him what he had in mind. Michael explained where he was in his head, asked for their patience with him and told them they would be welcome in his home all his life as they had been there for him when he needed them most. In that moment, it was Tom who had a flash of inspiration while looking around the master suite.
"Michael, stand up.", he ordered. Michael, puzzled, did so. "Go rinse your mouth with mouthwash and come back here." Michael obeyed. While he was gone, Tom took off his clothes, his cock pointing straight up and balls hanging low, a magnificent farm specimen ready for action.
Michael entered the room. "Get naked right now, Michael," Tom yelled, "you were a real shit in Paris. Seems to me like you need some discipline."
Michael looked like he had been struck. The minute he was naked, Tom slapped his face hard enough to leave a red mark, then roughly shoved him on the bed on his stomach. Tom then began to spank Michael's ass hard. Michael didn't cry, he didn't laugh, he didn't make a sound. Tom motioned Darren to stay back. He reached over to a chair, grabbed Michael's socks and tied his wrists together. Then he told Darren to take one of his socks and hand it to Tom. Tom took the sock and tied it around Michael's forehead and eyes as a blindfold. Tom took his belt off and fastened one of Michael's ankles to a bedpost and left the other free.
Tom leaned over Michael's body then and in a clear low threatening voice told Michael precisely what would happen if Michael struggled in the next ten minutes. "Understand me, you little cocksucker?" Michael nodded.
Tom, using only a small amount of lube, applied some to Michael's anus and then roughly shoved his cock into Michael, full bore, full stop. What followed was about what one would expect a stallion to deliver to a recalcitrant mare back on the farm, total domination of Michael's ass.
"Let me show you, Michael... thrust, what happens on the farm... thrust, when my stallion... thrust, finds a mare... thrust, with an attitude... thrust. He bites her neck...oomph. He fucks her into submission...thrust."
Darren stared in shocked surprise, then came without touching himself.
After Tom erupted, he told Darren, "cut him loose."
Then they sat waiting for Michael to respond. Tom glanced over at Darren, who looked back for a second and started stripping off his clothes. Tom was deep into Darren's mouth quickly and from there to Darren's ass when Michael sat up with an effort, sitting in a pool of cum, passing more as he sat up.
"Darren," he said, "I think we have a new alpha in the house."
Tom looked at Michael. "I own your butt now. Talk to me. I'm the 'top-dog' in the house when it comes to the three of us and sex. As long as I'm in this house your ass is mine, and you'll give it cheerfully when I ask for it. Is that clear?"
Michael looked down, "Yes, sir."
"Same goes for you, Darren. I own your ass and your cock. Any questions? Talk to me. Any gripes? Talk to me. Do precisely what I tell your ass to do, when I tell it. I'll be happy to spank your ass if you need it."
"Yes, sir."
"Good boys. I sleep with both of you and sex both of you in this room at night. You can fuck each other anytime I don't need to use you. Nobody sleeps with anyone outside our triad unless I say so and then only with condoms. Clear?"
"Yes sir," replied Michael and Darren. Michael felt relieved. His need for a daddy, even a rough one, had been filled without kink or savage injury and to boot, he liked, no loved, Darren and would grow to appreciate (learn to love?) Tom's farm approach, an earthy 'let's get it done' 'to hell with the love part' style which would moderate once Tom felt and experienced love. It would have to be modeled for Tom; Michael and Darren were good at loving a third. Tom would be in time.
Michael turned out to be right. Tom mellowed, his aggressiveness not vital to him once he learned different ways of expressing his need for security and intimacy. Tom's family had not shown him kindness or much in the way of tenderness, but he was intelligent and sensitive and willing to do what worked best for all of his group. He went to work as the administrator of the museum and did faithful, careful work there for many years. Tom also had the self-imposed task of keeping his little flock of three together with firm discipline when needed. He hadn't been born to be an alpha, he, in a moment of earthy wisdom, chose to be one.
Blossom, Carol, Michael, Eric and Loren took Sweet Pea to Grinnell, Iowa one day in early autumn where the soil of five hundred acres of poorly producing farmland had been purchased, worked over, and improved by workers following an agricultural plan from Grinnell's biology department, and watched them plant a border around the forest consisting of close knit evergreens as a break to the Iowa winds.
Stepping out of their limousines with warm fall clothes on, each of them planted a tree in the brisk air, in previously dug and carefully prepared holes, then workers planted thousands of deciduous maples, oaks, cherry, hickory and walnut trees inside the borders of the living memorial to Marcus. A drip irrigation system was installed, and a large sign placed at the entrance:
"This forest has been planted to remember a Grinnell College graduate who excelled, a credit to his alma mater, an alumni booster, a loving husband, a wonderful father, a dutiful son and loving brother, a very successful businessman and financier, a man who loved Jesus over all." Rest in Peace, Marcus Schuyler-Jones. Visitors are welcome.
Paths through the forest with signs describing the various species of trees and their native habitats, samples of their wood and uses were placed. Other signs describing the birds that used the forest, their pictures and species information were added as the birds moved in.
The Grinnell citizens employed at the forest appreciated their work, well compensated.
Marcus' assets had been willed to Michael. There were no surprises in his will.
Michael called Loren in one day soon after Marcus died and told him that the family consensus was that Loren should immediately take over Marcus' work at the Trusts and Funds. Well-trained help was available if he needed it.
The Dell supercomputer was monitoring things almost automatically now. Loren would have final decision power over trades, the tracking, recommendations, and analysis would flow to him as it had come to Marcus.
Michael did not anticipate large changes immediately in the Trusts and Funds but felt Loren was ready. Marcus had documented his stock ideas well. Loren would have plenty to study.
Loren arrived at the Fund offices alone the next morning. He had told Michael that he must.
"If I arrive in Marcus's old office and my authority is questioned, I'm already in trouble," he said, "so I'm going to just show up and start working about an hour before anyone else gets there. There is a small matter of retrieving passwords and getting access, however. I have asked security to hand me what they have as I enter the building and to arrange access."
He didn't know that Michael had called the supervisors already and laid the succession matter to them and asked for their cooperation in making Loren's first few days easier.
Loren read a small piece in the Wall Street Journal that morning on the way to work naming him as the new Director of the trusts and funds, something about the new, up and coming financial star of the city.
Loren arrived in the lobby. The place was quiet at six o'clock in the morning. The guard staff was alert, having received the security team's notification of arrival. An elevator door stood open. Loren and his team entered the elevator and rode to the forty-first floor.
The doors opened, and a crowd of cheering staff greeted him on his first day as Director. The chef presented a very large German chocolate sheet cake with cream cheese frosting and vanilla ice cream. Another assistant chef ranged up behind a beverage table. The broker's supervisor of the tech sector motioned all to silence and behind a microphone welcomed their new Director.
"We are happy to welcome you as our Director. You've already worked here, and we've noticed that work. Your dad was our first Director and we are all proud of the work that has produced an organization with the highest brokerage standards in the city. We are here early to signal to you our cooperation and loyalty and because we wanted cake and ice cream too, as it happens."
Laughter broke out as Loren responded.
"Marcus was proud of all of you. Our work as a team is a model for the city, both in its standards of ethical behavior, professionalism and its financial results. I anticipate continuing what we do without major changes now.
The transition must take place, of course. My dad was proud of you and I expect I will be also as I get to know you better. My training here under his supervision now turns out to be valuable for us all and I welcome your positive comments and suggestions. Thank you for the great surprise this morning! Let's eat!"
That morning was very busy.
Loren called the Dell IT supervisors and established the passwords necessary to access that system. Similar telephone calls regarding the desktop computer and Marcus's laptop computer got the passwords necessary to access broker task lists and Dell summaries of markets, portfolios, projections, and buy/sell recommendations from the floor supervisors, among others.
After establishing personal access, he scheduled time with the broker supervisors, one half of them at a time and discussed their issues and concerns.
He had a brief conference with HR to review open issues and policies. He scheduled a brief conference during the week with the building maintenance and computer IT people and an hour conference with the fund's attorneys. He met with the chef and staff for a half an hour to discuss their concerns.
The brokers, grouped by sector, met with Loren for an hour at a time during the remainder of the week. They discussed their tools of the trade, issues, requests, policies, tasks, standards and their forecasts for their sector and the stocks and bonds held in that sector of the economy.
By the end of the week, Loren had grasped the reins firmly and knew what work lay ahead. The Dell continued to monitor and forecast. It tasked much of the technical work that the brokers and their supervisors did. For example, if the supercomputer didn't have a crucial piece of data that it had to have, perhaps an SEC filing for IBM for the 2nd Quarter of a certain year, it could get it online and if it could not, it tasked a broker to do that.
Billions of dollars invested produced dividends and stock gains of hundreds of millions of dollars each year. The controller and Loren met every day to decide on reinvestment strategies for some of the Trusts and Funds.
In the case of ADRA, all of the dividends were sent on a monthly basis to that organization for its African catalog work in Zimbabwe. The stock gains over initial investment were discussed with ADRA.
Their preference, for the moment, was to hold those gains because they were still ramping up their organization's infrastructure to spend the dividends, a process that took time, governmental permissions and people to administer the money efficiently. ADRA had processes to assess each program for effectiveness and at times cancelled those that were underutilized or ineffective and started other projects.
The controller rarely wrote checks. Wire transfers through Schuyler Financial Trust formed the bulk of money transfers. HR initiated payroll for the employees and these funds were directly deposited through SFT free accounts for them or to their accounts in other banks.
After reviewing the controller's work processes, Loren decided that the funds needed to establish an organized check and balance system to control of cash expenditures.
He had noted this organizational deficit, had discussed it with Marcus recently but no decision had been made before Marcus died.
The check and balance system became his first major change in operations at the trust and funds that he managed as Director.
The funds and trusts had used a large, national firm of accountants to audit the books at regular intervals, but Loren wanted them to assign a senior accountant with staff in house at the fund to monitor large cash transfers as they occurred.
The accountant firm refused, so Loren cancelled that contract on the advice of his attorneys and after talking over the problem with Michael, the joint decision was made for both the Schuyler Trust and the funds and trusts managed by Loren to use a group of accountants owned by the Schuyler Trust.
The new process was a little more cumbersome in some ways but limited the risk for the loss of outflows of cash from those funds and trusts that Loren oversaw. Fees to the former accountant firm went to zero and were paid to themselves as co-owners of the Schuyler Accounting Company.
The Controller initiated the process for a wire transfer, which the Dell supercomputer first checked against available balances in the appropriate accounts.
The Dell then looked for an accountant approval of the wire and Loren's computerized approval of the wire before allowing the wire transfer to take place.
This system of checks and balances added very little time to each wire, since the Dell placed the requests for approval from the controller at very high priority level, both Loren and the accountants responded quickly to approve large cash movements, both having an opportunity to review the attached documents supporting each wire.
The payroll did not require the approvals, but the accountants and the Dell examined those expenditures afterward at intervals to make certain they fell into line with projected expenses for payroll.
Loren and Selene had talked, while in Zimbabwe, about finishing Selene's financial education in London at the London School of Economics. Selene had mixed emotions about a master's Degree having usefulness for her work in Zimbabwe.
Now that marriage was in the offing, she had more options including not working fulltime away from Loren. At the same time, she wanted to continue her service to ADRA if possible.
The degree in London would have given her cachet in southern Africa. Many if not most of the advanced economic degrees held by government ministers and financial advisors were from the London School of Economics.
Selene decided that if working in country were to be her future, the degree would be needed. If marriage, family and working in ADRA administration and finance was to involve living and working in the United States as a base, then the degree could be put off for now.
She decided that she would wait. After David's tutoring at the London Exchange, she had a good knowledge of foreign currency trading in general and had established a network of European currency trader contacts.
She packed her belongings for the freight forwarding company one Sunday morning, eager now to return to New York, to see Loren again. She had flown there for his dad's memorial service and had returned feeling torn again about where home might be. Loren had called nearly every day and Skyped with her as well.
On her way to Heathrow, she dropped by the British Museum to pick up her engagement gift. After receiving the giant ruby from Loren and returning to London, she had taken it to the museum and asked them if they would be willing to display the gem while she remained in London.
The advantage to her was world-class security for the gem and to the British Museum, a steady stream of visitors who wanted to see the Maharajah's huge ruby. It had become a tourist attraction at the Museum, which they appreciated.
The Museum director thanked her for the arrangement, reminded her of the longstanding relationship of the British Museum with Carol Schuyler and the Schuyler Trust, asked her to relay his greetings to Loren and Michael and had the ruby brought in and packed for travel in her presence.
She signed a form acknowledging the receipt of the ruby and strode away with a purse containing a rock worth in the neighborhood of three hundred million US dollars.
A taxi took her to the Heathrow, her bags checked in at the curb for the first-class flight to JFK. She waited for an hour in the British Airways First Class lounge, ate a bit, then boarded. Her mid-day departure arrived a little after mid-day at JFK where Loren met her enthusiastically, causing at least one fellow passenger to smile and another older, crankier passenger to consider asking them to get a room.
"I've got the rock," she whispered," and I hope you remember what use it will be put to once we're married."
In response he whistled, looked up at the ceiling and arranged his long winter overcoat to hide his groin and concentrated on the stock market.
That didn't work so well when they got to the car, where Selene got down to serious business of exploration of his lips, his ears, his hands, his neck and a few other things. "Oh, Selene, I've missed you. Any chance we could find a preacher here at the airport right now?"
"Not a chance, horn dog. But keep that thought firmly in mind. What's mine is mine and what's yours is going to be mine, body-wise, so eat up and continue to exercise every day."
"That red rock day is coming, and you are going to need all the energy you can come up with on our wedding day, so get plenty of rest."
He groaned, picked up the intercom and asked the driver to proceed to the Schuyler Museum.
Selene had her own suite at the Museum, but she thought it kinder and less tempting to stay with her Aunt Donna in Silver Spring until the wedding.
She wanted to marry at the large old church in Tacoma Park since she had attended that church for some years, they were among the first churches to ordain a woman pastor and had a wonderfully diverse congregation and leadership.
Her Aunt Donna lived within an hour of that church and had promised to help her plan the wedding.
Her first task was to store the ruby in the Manhattan Repository, so she and Loren took the limousine by the Repository and checked it in the gem collection temporarily, received the receipt and went out for dinner.
It was late for more travel that night, so she stayed at her own suite at the Museum that night and breakfasted with Loren the next morning in the dining room off the sideboard. She gave Michael a hug and once again decided what a great father-in-law he'd be and a powerhouse of a grandfather for future grandchildren too. She hugged Carol, Brent and Eric and told them she'd see them soon at the wedding.
Her bags had already been taken down to the luggage room at the front entrance and then loaded into the limousine taking her to Teterboro for the ride in Sweet Pea down to Dulles. A Schuyler limousine was at her disposal at Dulles.
The flight to Dulles was uneventful and she transferred to the limousine and was driven to ADRA headquarters first. She found her Aunt Donna deep in thought and paperwork, volunteered to help and was fended off.
"Girl, you have wedding plans to make and things to do of your own. Later, after the dust settles, you are welcome to volunteer here or in New York, where your husband may want to see you every day."
"There's plenty of work to do all the time and not enough talent to handle it all. Scoot out of here and I'll see you at the house for supper about six or so."
She hugged her niece and went back to her work.
Selene was driven to the wedding coordinator's office. The discussion that followed left no doubt about the `hands on' way she meant to go about the planning.
The coordinator volunteered to do all the work, so Selene could sit back and do nothing as an optional choice, but Selene decided that this event was going to happen exactly once in her lifetime and she wasn't going to miss a minute of it.
The two of them visited the church, went shopping for a bridal gown, approved invitations and reviewed the two invitation lists.
The caterer for the reception dinner reviewed the food options with them including vegetarian options and they approved the menu.
Selene gave the coordinator Loren's credit card and charged the first two-hundred-thousand-dollar itemized estimate, the first of two or possibly three. They visited the floral group and the wedding portrait groups and ordered and approved and paid for those services in advance. The fees for the church, pastor, organist and the other musicians were paid through the coordinator. The music was reviewed and approved.
The reception was planned for the Hays-Adams hotel in downtown Washington, D.C. Selene and the coordinator. The hotel fees were paid, and the needed furniture, tables and chairs and podium were reserved. The hotel provided a wedding reception coordinator that worked with the wedding coordinator to smooth out parking, a room for the bride and groom to either stay in or change for the exit or both and other concierge services for the guests.
Additional rooms had been reserved for family and the Presidential Suite for ex-President Barbara Darnell, Jack and the children, now teens. Selene also rang the Secret Service and offered to pay for rooms for them. They informed her their services were in their budget. That's how that was done.
Loren flew down to Dulles on Friday morning. His tuxedo and those of his best man, Eric and his father Michael and uncle John and uncle Jack and a surprise tuxedo for his biological father, Jerry, were picked up on Friday afternoon for the Sunday morning wedding in Takoma Park.
Carol and Blossom flew down Thursday afternoon with their luggage in Rainier and checked in at the Hays-Adams.
On Sunday morning, guests began to arrive an hour before the ceremony at ten o'clock. The church was decorated with lovely roses cut that morning in Oregon, flown in from Carol Schuyler's rose garden, and additional blooms and greenery decorated the Hays-Adams reception hall. Lines of limousines arrived at the church with politicians, financiers, employees of the trusts and funds, the Schuyler Trust, the Schuyler Financial Trust bank executives, family on both sides.
In the front rows on the groom's side sat Jerry and Olive, holding hands, just a little nervous.
The service was simple with a Mozart prelude adapted to organ and strings, an organ sequence for the groom and his party to enter, a string piece to bring in the ring-bearers and the children with flowers, then a wonderful, joyous organ voluntary, bringing in the bride. Her uncle walked her down the aisle.
Loren had a time keeping any track of time then, watching Selene come up the aisle...butterflies...was this really happening and to him...was this gorgeous woman going to have his babies...could he stand to be so happy...a quick look at Michael watching him intently with a smile and tears in his eyes...a quick smile back to his dad...
Then all of his attention went back to Selene as she slowly processed and came closer, then nothing else to see, barely heard the preacher, automatically said his vows, remembering to repeat a phrase at a time, and saying, "I do."
"With this ring I do thee wed" and when given permission' to kiss her... raising the veil seemed right...seeing her face right there... and finally thinking this is the easy part', this kiss. Taking his time...then stepping back...still looking at her...still holding her hands...hearing the preacher say, It is my privilege to introduce to you for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Loren Schuyler-Jones' and thinking yeah, she got that right'.
Down the aisle...out the door to the limousine...down the highway behind tinted glass windows...the opaque, tinted, locked-closed limousine window inside creating their own space...
Selene turned to him, "Loren, husband of mine, your two seconds are up."
"That's not all that's up."
"With this traffic it could take an hour to get to the Hays-Adams. Any ideas what to do for all that time?"
"A man has to do what a man has to do, wife of mine."
Loren had several ideas, all of which Selene approved. For a guy with no experience, she had married an enormously talented, innovative, energetic, muscular guy with a cock the size of Florida and hard as the rocky coast of Maine, who had a knack for exploration, who drilled deep to the bottom of problems and came up with successful solutions.
The ruby remained in her luggage for the moment, not needed, not remembered in the storm of ecstasy, the heat and energy expended during the next hour.
They arrived at the Hays-Adams, just this side of bedraggled and both went straight to their room where they began the process of refreshing themselves and putting themselves back to rights.
At the reception, they swept in to the front table. Michael, watching his son and new bride carefully, noted a certain change in Loren, a look on his face and a certain relaxed way of presenting himself as if to say, "Hey world, I'm a grownup babymaker now. I've been there and don't intend to come down anytime soon."
Selene, thought Carol Schuyler and Blossom Jones, had the look. Just a little more color to her face, a bright glow, a tenderness, an awareness. She looks fulfilled both literally and figuratively, thought Barbara, thinking back to her own wedding day years ago.
The President looked over and up to Jack who was looking at her with his `wicked' look, raised eyebrows and a kid's grin, indicating he was going to haul out his best moves later that night.
Jerry and Olive were enjoying the guests and the food, avoiding the alcohol. Olive was aware that was one substance she was addicted to and had lost a great deal of time with her own children because of the addiction. That wasn't going to continue. She had been sober for many years now and wasn't going to go backward. She had donated quite enough to the alcohol industry for one lifetime, her children specifically, and wasn't feeling generous toward distillers anymore.
Olive said that Presidents of the United States and leaders of other countries had stayed at the Hays-Adams and done the same kinds of things she had in mind for him tonight.
Startled, Jerry turned to her with a sudden rasp in his throat, an increased pulse rate.
"I believe I could accommodate your wishes, dear."
"No, let me do the accommodating tonight," Olive replied.
The words brought images of his youth, his younger years...that nearly knocked him over, overwhelmingly pleasant.
The dancing...the cake...the throwing of the bouquet...the best man's speech...saying goodbye for now...thanking the guests for attending...ex-President Barbara Schuyler with family and security leaving first...then Loren and Selene disappearing down a hall to the elevators in a shower of rice to their room where, naturally, they did things that humans have done for a long time. They `led' a virtual celebrating team of family and friends who had the same idea in mind, happy about Loren and Selene's first arrival to the club and firmly cementing their own place in the same group of loving hearts.
The Hays-Adams room service staff was kept busy during the night and for breakfast. The tips seemed generous.
Loren and Selene left the Hays-Adams escaped very early the next morning. Their gifts were transported by secure, bonded transportation to their suite in New York. The limousine took them to Dulles where Sweet Pea was waiting to welcome them aboard with full pilot crew, applauding with the cabin crew who were eager to see them.
Although all of them had been at the wedding, they wanted to gift the new couple with fantastic service and did. The chef and flight attendant outdid themselves on the Gulfstream 650ER, which sparkled in the sunshine at Dulles. The food, the beverages and snacks were perfect as were the linen and flowers on the tables for meals.
First stop was Paris for a week at the Georges Cinq served prodigiously well under the supervision of a kind, rather close-mouthed and attentive room service manager named Alain, then a hop to the Ritz-Carlton in Shanghai for a week, a stay in a cottage on the water in Fiji for a week followed by a week on Maui in Kapalua at the Ritz-Carlton there.
That month cemented their relationship, polished it, got some of the bugs out of it, and they returned to Teterboro tanned, and ready to continue their work.
Loren had continued to approve expenditures and do his task lists every day during the month, which took him an hour or so. Selene wisely didn't ask him to forego his essential duties. She realized that his work, all of it, was the single most important source of funding for advancing the status of women and their families in Zimbabwe and did not want to interfere with that for even a minute.
Loren had delegated much of his work to the Dell to give automatic approval for him for wires up to one million dollars per day with instructions to the computer to save those for his review on his task list upon his return.
He had also spent thirty minutes every day looking at the reports and the market in general.
Other than the ninety minutes a day, Selene had his undivided attention, with the notable exception of a seventy-two-hour timeout to treat honeymoon cystitis.
In three days, exactly seventy-two hours to the second, Loren was home from the office for some reason and Selene just happened to be home and since Loren was nearly starving for affection for some reason, things happened, and they were both back in the saddle again, gently.
When Selene missed her first period she didn't think much about it. It was late, and she didn't feel different for a couple of weeks until she got up one morning feeling nausea, spent some time in the bathroom trying not to empty her stomach, felt tired, and went back to bed.
When she awoke a couple hours later and dressed, her breasts were a little tender and she knew.
With security there were few secrets, so she sent a maid to the drugstore and swore her to secrecy. The maid bought three different types of tests and brought them back in a paper sack.
The urine HCG stick was positive. All three were positive.
That afternoon she wrapped one little plastic stick to give it to Loren if a backup plan was needed. She went to the cook and asked for a honeybun. The cook couldn't produce one so the cook, somewhat perplexed, made a batch.
The pleasant odor drove Selene away from the kitchen for a time, but she braved the kitchen for a moment to turn on a fan and clear the fragrance out fifteen minutes before Loren came home.
When he arrived home, she kissed him and led him by the hand into the kitchen and told him to look for his surprise.
It took a while, but Loren finally opened the oven and saw the bun she had left there.
He picked it up, clueless for a minute or two, and she stood hands on hips, one eyebrow raised as if to say, `OK big boy, you can't figure this out?" and when the light dawned, he just looked at her.
His jaw dropped and held his head turned just a little to the right, his chin lifted a little, his eyes narrowed a little and a little smile played around his lips.
"Are you joking with me?"
"Serious, big boy."
"Are you kidding me?"
"Serious as a heart attack." Laughing now.
"You ARE kidding me, aren't you?"
"Are you really?" Eyes shining now, focused on her face, coming closer, "When... how...?"
"I think we can get past the how' part quickly. As for the when' part, we add seven days and subtract three months from the first day of the last menstrual period which was January seven, so even though you are a father at this very moment and have been for two weeks plus a little (plus or minus) you get to meet the little cutie on the fourteenth of October if all goes well and he or she decides to spring forth on its estimated day of delivery."
"October 14! I can't believe it. Have you told anybody?"
"I just told you, doofus..." As he crashed to the floor in a dead faint, it was doubtful and a blessing that he missed the last word at least.
Selene laughed, got a cup of cold water from the sink, put an ice cube in it for a minute, then slowly poured it over his face and head. Loren started, "Whaaat...?"
"You fainted. Pretty good blackmail material, I would think."
"Did you just tell me we are having a baby?"
"No, I told you I was having one. Yours, as a matter of fact."
"Oh honey, I love you" This, as he crawled over to her, a wet, dripping puppy eager to love and be loved. He stood, shook his head, wiped his hand over his face and hair, picked her up, marched her into their suite, took her clothes off, took his off, brought her into the shower, soaped her down really well, turned the cold water on and stepped out with his back against the shower door.
"I just wanted to celebrate with you this perfect moment as a kind husband and father, an example of fatherly affection and handsome body too, if I say so myself. What great news!"
Yelling, sputtering and scrambling to turn the cold water off and get some warm water, she began to laugh and then they both did, and they ended up in warm water almost but joyously not forgetting for a few moments that they had already made a new life.
This baby was different from any other baby in the world and unique according to them. It was pure distilled celebration and love mixed.