EDGEWATER DR by Mike Austin
nasstop@yahoo.com
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XXII.
My man greeted me as I came in the door, with a hug and kiss, and surprised grope, which I was forced to and loved enduring. "What's this" he announced feeling the remnant hardon and ball sensitivity? "Full day, but a satisfying one, that also will deliver some good news your way about the carport project", I shared. "Well my news is equally good but you go first" Jack promoted. I went on as I sorted the mail, Juan and I spoke about the job and their current schedule and that I knew they were still working on the job they left here for, but that we needed them to assess the project, build a scope of work and budget and that I would have you send him the CAD plans for the project to work up the schedule, etc. He went on to say it would be at least two weeks or more before they could even look at it and I asked him to reconsider and get back to me, as you and Ben have new vehicles and we didn't want them left outdoors very long in this Summer heat if possible. "So is he gonna do better", Jack asked? "Later in the afternoon, Juan called back to say that they might be able to get to us in 10 days, but needed those CAD files from you tonight", I went on. "So I need to send him them and need his email addy, let's get them sent before supper if ok with you" Jack encouraged. We went to Jack's PC he opened his CAD file and I found their email addy. In no time, Jack had sent the drawings to Juan for review. "Let's eat and after supper we'll follow with Juan to make sure he got them ok and then give them tomorrow to review them and then follow on a date and estimate" I urged and Jack agreed. About that time, Ben came home, gave us hugs and headed upstairs to change then was back downstairs with questions; "so where did you disappear to this afternoon after the tenant meeting"? "I was showing suite 210 at the northside property to a potential tenant, then visited with a couple others afterward", diffusing his interest. "Well" Ben added, "you missed some fireworks with Jeff Smith and his client' on the phone about 4". Raising my eyebrows in interest, Ben went on to report overhearing bits and pieces of the call and in summary; that there are no issues we've identified of any concern, then "except for 4 loans you made from the company, and not yet retired" and then Jeff closed the open door to their workroom and I heard nothing more. "Sounds like your little visit with Mr. Smith paid off in BIG TIME SPADES Unc", Ben closed. I downplayed it after that and busied myself setting the bar for supper. "So Jack how was your meeting with Jesus, we passed each other as I was leaving this morning. He sure didn't waste any time haulin ass over here after your call. You getting some of that fine Latin Stallion on the side there Jack-O" I jabbed? "I gotcha Jack-O right here" and groped himself, then went on to report that they reviewed the CAD drawings, Jesus added some critical matters and we made some adjustments, but that he felt all the landscape work that was just finished would not be wasted and that all the plantings and hardscapes could be reused elsewhere. He also suggested where we shold plan on running water services for the pool, at which point Ben jumped into the discussion with "fukin POOL, we're gonna get a pool and carport for our new babies AND WTF did we just win the lottery" grinning ear to ear and added "Jack what magic you got you keep on keepin on bro, we gonna get The Boys envious of Uncle Brad here, havin two fine studs under his roof, new rides, new landscaping, new pool; why we'll set their spilt ends on fire with jealousy" and we all broke up laughing. Jack's menu was amazing, Mexican chicken breast casserole, flour tortillas, Spanish rice and refried black beans with flan for dessert. "Amazing my man, just wonderfully amazing" I complimented Jack. Ben offered the same with his mouth still full, but raising his hand to high-five his housemate. I began, Ben your turn at KP duty tonight while Jack and I go over the CAD drawings in closer detail so I know what I'm asking for and/or getting. Jack and I sat at the PC, staring at the oversized display and him covering the details and the evolution from his original concept, then added Jesus' remarks and ideas to arrive at the end result sent off to Juan for full SOW and pricing. I asked him to print an 8.5" x 11" copy and then asked if I got him the site plan could he integrate the site and this add-on scope of work so we'd have a complete revised plan and he agreed. I'd get Thomas with our property group to send him the e-file data Friday, and then Jack could figure out how to incorporate the new and existing files, and send the refreshed set back to Thomas. Jack hit print and while we waited, I massaged his neck and shoulders, feeling him tense then relax. Once printed, I took the plan upstairs and poured a small glass of wine and made some mental and written notes on the borders, sat back, finished my wine and recalled Gregorio this afternoon. My dick throbbed hard again and that slight edgy pain in my balls returned. I went on to recall those early days with Gregorio and his Massage Therapy goals. He'd worked for a day spa as an RMT for three years, but was eager to open his own business. He held after hour sessions with several clients and "moonlighted" along Shoreline cruising for new contacts and clients as well as the cash that came along with them. After a few months of becoming a regular item', I suggested a look-see at his business model and plan followed by an investment offer in his business, that might propel him into the bigger league; than working from his apartment after hours, and remaining at the day spa Monday-Saturday, then working Shoreline Saturday night and Sunday for extra cash. I wanted him off the circuit and available for my pleasure, yet was willing to introduce him to other gay men and neighbors and other friends of mine who were inclined to and could easily afford a regular massage with an excellent professional. The plan coalesced and in 60 days, Gregorio had his business, a leased space and pretty well-sourced client base from which to expand. The rest was his hard work and his service delivery. His 6 day a week schedule was now all his and wasn't apportioned to a spa owner with him getting only a small percentage. Smiling I went to bed and feel fast asleep, while Ben and Jack watched tv downstairs. I woke about midnight to pee and found the boys in Ben's bed soundly asleep in each other's arms.
The alarm announced that it was finally Friday. I rose slower than usual, stirred and wanted to fall back asleep and dream for a few hours more, of the other Juans and Rodrigos, Gregorios, Bills and Jacks, and, and, And, AND how many more from the past. I sat in my office trancelike remembering. The first was Jean Claude in Paris, the street artist living in the garret studio overlooking my apartment at the edge of a dead end street in the Marais. I'd watch him on the rooftop exercising each morning before I left for my International Finance class. He was tall and lean, had great biceps I remembered, and those dark green eyes that were hypnotic. That day in the rain when I rushed from my apartment building and the wind blew th portfolio from his arms and into my body flat on; he'd rushed to try and recover the portfolio and inspect it for damage, ignoring the fact that it had just hammered my new suit and sprayed my coffee across it and we stood in the rain before ducking inside my building's small foyer. This man from the corner. He pressed me against the wall, kissing me, trapping me between his muscular torso and the blue and white tiled wall that framed the locking mailboxes. I was light-headed at the end of his kiss and embrace. Other neighbors were leaving for work or school, watching our performance in the morning rain and the small enclosure which concealed us from some prying eyes outside. He begged me to join him for the day, I declined. Instead I offered him a hot shower, a coffee and escape from the rain, already having decided to skip class for the day. Class was class but this man was a magnificent lover, I JUST HAD KNOWN IT from the first time I'd seen him on the corner then watched him on the roof. We climbed the 5 flights to my small apartment door, he trapped me against the wall as I dug for my key, untying my tie as I struggled to unlock the door and get us inside. I begged for us to get coffee going and he tossed that idea aside and began stripping and stripping me, there inside my front door, in view of the rain outside and those apartment dwellers on the opposite side of the rainy day that was unfolding. Jean Claude was the son of a fisherman from Cassis on the Mediterranean just east of Marseilles. He was one of 5 children, 2 sisters and 2 older brothers; the only artist of the group. His brothers worked in the vineyards that produce Cassis white wine, one sister worked for the municipal government the other was a housewife, like their mother. All this I learned after we'd have incredibly passionate sex. Jean Claude was the first to fuck me, though I'd sucked many dicks in my two years in Europe. My large ironwork bed was at least substantially built for the hard fuck assault JC waged on my body; doggy, then on my right side, then my left, doggy again and then on my back gripping my balls hard controlling my cum, riding me up and down the pleasure ruler until I begged repeatedly to cum. That would become our routine, rough passion, leading to further intensity and denial, cum control, lust, orgasm then he'd return to his studio until the next day. I bought one, then another and a 3rd, 4th and 5th of his paintings, a 6th, 7th and 8th all hanging in the apartment and the small stairwell outside my apartment. Some were male nudes, female nudes, studies of the corner outside our buildings, a street scene, the subject made no difference, I bought them all. Now there was only one left. It hung facing me on the opposite wall of this room, reminding me, haunting me, helping define who I am and what I can do to help those in need of a helping hand. It was the street corner on which I'd first seen Jean Claude so many, many years ago. Jean Claude made that Summer in Paris an impossibly romantic and exciting time for me. He took me to the extreme places in my mind, fostered and tormented me, praised and punished me, taught me how to and to whom I belong. Of late there'd come Jack, Ben, Miguel and possibly Leroy. The new ones Joe and Bob were too well suited for their successes and didn't need the likes of me to help.
I blinked away a tear, closed my eyes and dreamed again of Paris, a trip to Cassis, then took him to Nice where we took a small studio for the rest of our lives........In three weeks Jean Claude moved on with an Italian, a wealthy banker from Milan. I got a postcard once from Milan, it was a picture of a corner street scene; it was unsigned, I cried for hours, alone and empty, needy. Soon after, I returned to Texas, I promised never to love again, the hurt of loss too overwhelming; but the premise of belonging, of being used, of giving---------------------well, that is an act of well what................................................a life, well-lived?
Ben's room was empty this morning. Had they already begun breakfast so early? The downstairs lights were still out and no coffee brewing. No one anywhere, the silence was deafening, my heart raced before I realized, "Jack's Suite" and breathed more quietly. I began the coffee ritual as before Jack, my routine, would that ever return? I wondered how many more Jacks there'd be in my time here, that just needed a helping hand? The coffee brewer's final click called me back to the present. I sat, sipping coffee when the door opened and the groggy pair came in. Raising my mug in welcome and announcing the coffee's readiness, their chatter began in earnest. Be was eager for the day to end and hoped to hear from Joe and Bob. Jack went on about being sure I followed with Jesus to advise him of the PO question and change order that would be needed for the carport to now be included, when my cell went off.
It was Joyce. Jerry was dead. He'd gotten up that morning, dressed, kissed her and headed out to the barn as usual. She was cooking their breakfast when she heard a shotgun blast from the garage and knew it was him. She was in shock. The police were there and the coroner had ruled it suicide. The funeral home was driving down the driveway with Jerry's body inside. She was watching her husband of 28 years leave his home, his farm, his wife, his life, for the final time. The phone fell to the floor and her flood of tears and cries echoed in Brad's cell. Grabbing Jack's cell, he called Peter. The call went to VM. He left a message, hung up, ran upstairs to dress and hollered to Jack to "call Joyce Grassio and see if Rocky was home; he needed to fly to San Antonio and get there YESTERDAY, call her now Jack". By the time Brad came downstairs with a tote of essentials, Jack informed him that Rocky was calling the airport, had already spoken with his rancher-boss and explained the emergency need for the company plane's use, secured his ok and was now on the horn with the hangar crew with flight planning and fueling needs. He made a tower controller aware of the emergency departure and would arrive at the airport in 25 minutes. Rocky's M-B pulled up, horn honked, Brad left his nephew and Jack under the carport, waved and got in the M-B then Rocky sped up Edgewater Drive for the airport. The two men did not speak to one another beyond the initial "THANK YOU MAN", Brad gave Rocky as he approached the waiting neighbor. Rocky was in ongoing contact with his flight crew and the tower. Brad tried Peter's number again and left a frustrated and semi-vicious VM for his older brother. He tried Mary's number and got the same VM wall. He would never reach them that day.
The blue and white Hawker 400 jet was fueled, ready outside the hangar and starter was priming the Pratt & Whitney jets, waiting for our arrival. Mick, one of the hangar crew members is a certified co-pilot for this craft and was onboard in the right seat. Once seated in the dark blue leather seats and Rocky in position, the cabin door remained opened as we taxied for take-off. Our departure had pre-clearance based on the tower controller`s call with Rocky. Ricky called back to me as neared the end of the runway, Brad we'll be there in about 40 minutes with the headwind we've got, so try and chill, and enjoy, then Mick closed the cabin door, the Hawker pivoted onto the runway and without hesitation we rolled, accelerated quickly, rotated the nose up and we climbed into the morning sun. A slight turn NNW and next stop San Antonio came to mind. Now I was beyond control and Rocky opened the cabin door as I fumbled for my cell, having dropped it in my tote. "Brad, the boss says use his Expedition at the hangar, no need for a rental, they're fueling it now", he said. I gave him a thumbs up, he nodded in return then returned to flight controls. The wind was strong and understood why the added delay in the short 140 mile hop. As with our departure, Rocky had secured priority landing and on touch down, Rocky maneuvered the Hawker directly to the group hangar where the Expedition was waiting. Mick, took over the taxi as Rocky came back to the main cabin, asked if I needed them to wait for a return flight or what the plans were. I spoke in ignorance not knowing what I'd find or the duration of the stay at this point. He understood and said they'd likely hang around and have lunch then fly back to Corpus. He gave me the flight manager's name and number there in San Antonio who would be my contact for any vehicle issues or if they needed to come get me and my sister. Of Joyce and Jerry's four children, the oldest daughter and son lived there, the other two were already coming back to San Antonio, all to be with their mom. The boys were about Ben and Brandon's ages. Phil took after his dad and as the oldest was a crew leader on the ranch. Maggie was a former deb, married a lawyer and was a socialite in San Antonio. Garrison and Elizabeth were both accountants, he in Houston and she in Oklahoma City. Brad found Phil and Maggie at home protecting their mom. Joyce saw me come in the kitchen door, the now cold breakfast stale on the stove, bacon scent still hanging in the kitchen air, stood and collapsed crying, into my arms. I shook hands with Phil behind Joyce's back then gave Maggie a hand squeeze which devolved into a shared hug. I had no idea about a cause, no answers to offer, and didn't know what to do for or about the situation. Phil eased me away from his mom and Maggie took over hug-duty with her mom. Phil explained the morning events, then back tracked the last few days with Jerry. He'd grown withdrawn over the past holiday weekend and it only intensified during the week. All things about the business seemed normal and cash flow was great so he didn't think it was related to business ops. He and Joyce weren't at-odds and he was planning her upcoming birthday in August, so didn't seem they were having any marriage problems. It was as though he got an arrow out of nowhere that just the hell out of him and he just went into this nosedive and couldn't pull out. We paused, he remarked that I'd sure gotten there fast and I explained Rocky and the boss' jet. "Are there any funeral arrangements in place", I asked of Phil? His shrug told me he didn't know. "No prob, I can get into that when Joyce is ready" I offered. He explained what funeral home had been called, but that was about all he knew and handed me a card from one of the guys who "got dad", then he welled up and hugged me, crying on my shoulder. I squeezed my bulky nephew in comfort. We stood there a good long while. Suddenly the other two joined us for a group hug and cries.
I managed to calm Joyce down enough to learn if there was a funeral plan in place with those that came for Jerry and she explained they'd set up a plan earlier in the year; but that she didn't think anything was finalized. I left the kitchen area for outside and called the number on the card and asked for the Funeral Director on the card. His info was guarded and respectful as he couldn't discuss anything with me, other than to advise my sister and brother-in-law had purchased plots and burial coverage plans. They'd await Joyce and the family's arrival in the next day or so to proceed.
I phoned Jack and gave him an update and that I would be away for several days. I called Ben to relate the incident to Jeff Smith the auditor and extend my apology for being absent on their planned final day on-site but that again if anything was needed to reach out to Ben. I also asked Ben to get the receptionist to cancel my meetings and non-profit activities for next week. I also instructed him to draft a letter to the staff and CC Jeff Smith, about the events and that temporarily I'd appoint Ben to act on my behalf, then email me the letter which I'd sign and email out to everyone with that letter as an attachment. Ben took the notes and within 10 minutes my email pinged and the staff letter appeared as an attachment. Printed, signed and attached as a PDF to a group email with Jeff Smith copied, the staff and appropriate parties were now advised of the temporary management changes in effect immediately. My focus now returned to the family.