Appearances, copyright 2006, by Etienne. All rights reserved.
If the idea of two men loving each other and expressing that love in a sexual manner offends you, then you have clearly come to the wrong place. Feel free to leave.
-59-
Two weeks after we returned from Spring Break at the beach, Charles and I invited the parents of Jimmy Anderson to brunch on a Sunday afternoon. Because spring flowers were blooming profusely in the garden, we ate in the sun room, where the garden was in full view. Mason and Angela were unable to be with us, due to a conflict.
George and Julia Anderson appeared to be in their late thirties. Over the course of lunch, we learned that Jimmy had been the oldest of their four children.
After the dishes had been cleared away, we lifted Mark and Steven out of their high chairs, and Grace led them back upstairs. Charles said to Steve and Roger, “Okay, guys, you have the floor.”
It took Steve a moment to find his voice before he began, “Mr. And Mrs. Anderson, Roger and I asked Uncle Philip to invite you to lunch because we want to ask your permission to do something.”
“Right,” Roger said, “Steve and I want to establish a Scholarship Fund at Exeter Academy in memory of Jimmy.”
“The Cartwrights and I offered to fund it,” I said, “but the boys want to do this themselves.”
“We’re going to persuade the swim team to use part of the proceeds from the car wash this summer to start an.... What’s that word, Uncle Charles?”
“An endowment fund,” Charles said.
“Right,” Steve said, “an endowment fund. We want to set up a permanent fund, and when it grows big enough, the earnings from it will provide a scholarship every year.”
“But we need your permission to do that,” Roger said.
“Why would you want to do all that?” Mr. Anderson said.
“Because Jimmy never had a chance to make a name for himself,” Roger said, “and we think that a scholarship would be a way to make certain that at least some people will always know who he was.”
Mrs. Anderson was beginning to tear up, and said to her husband, “Oh, George, this is what we’ve been looking for.”
“What my wife is referring to,” Mr. Anderson said, “is the insurance money. I’m a Chartered Life Underwriter, and I believe in what I do. Because of that, as each of our children were born, I took out very large policies on them. Policies that could be cashed in when they became eighteen, and used for their education.”
“There is a huge amount of money in the bank right now,” Mrs. Anderson said, “and we haven’t felt right about using it for anything. It’s just sitting there, earning interest.”
“How much are you talking about,” Charles said.
“Half a million,” Mr. Anderson said.
“With proper management, that’s more than enough to endow two or three scholarships every year,” Charles said.
“What would we have to do, to set up an endowment?” Mr. Anderson said.
“I’ll set up an appointment with the School Administrator who handles that sort of thing,” Charles said. “I’ll also draw up an agreement that ensures that the fund will always be used for the purposes intended.”
“Why do you need to do that,” I said.
“Because,” Charles said, “I won’t be around forever, nor will the current Administration of the School, nor for that matter, will Mr. and Mrs. Anderson. We want to be very certain that decades from now, some future administrator at the school won’t be able to decide that he or she has a better use for the funds.”
“Does that sort of thing happen very often?” Mr. Anderson said.
“Not often, but it happens,” Charles said. “I can think of one well-known local church, whose governing board decided it was all right to deplete an endowment and use if for a new building project, instead of the originally stated purpose of the fund. They didn’t get away with it because the great-grandchildren of the man whose bequest set up the fund hired an attorney to stop them. If the endowment had been set up with proper safeguards, they wouldn’t even have been able to contemplate such a thing.”
“You’re speaking from experience aren’t you,” I said.
“I was the attorney,” he said.
Charles and Mr. Anderson discussed details for a few minutes, and Mr. Anderson said, “Great, let’s do it.”
I noticed that Steve and Roger weren’t exactly beaming with delight, so I said, “What’s the matter Steve? You should be happy about this.”
“I am, Uncle Philip,” he said. “It’s just that Roger and I wanted to do this all by ourselves.”
“My dear boy,” Gran said, “as you grow older, you will learn that you can’t always do everything yourself. You and Roger should be proud of the fact that you had a wonderful idea to commemorate the life of the young man, and that others were able to carry your idea to completion.”
“Right,” Charles said. “If you guys hadn’t come up with this idea, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“Besides,” I said, “there’s no reason why you can’t persuade the team to donate some or all of this summer’s proceeds to the fund. The larger the endowment, the more scholarships there will be.”
“I hadn’t thought of it that way, Uncle Philip,” Steve said.
“Well, think about it,” I said. “Does the team have a particular goal in mind for this year’s earnings?”
“We want to purchase a couple of whirlpools for the locker room,” Roger said, “but that’s all.”
“Good,” I said, “then you and Steve can use your powers of persuasion to see to it that the rest of the car wash proceeds go to the new scholarship fund.”
“We can do that,” Steve said.
Later that week, I attended a pre-trial conference concerning the Lawsuit the Foundation had brought on behalf of the Cartwrights and the other parents against Rev. Wilson and his church. I was present because it was, after all, my Foundation. Also present were William O’Neill, the Foundation’s attorney, and Charles Savage, representing the defendants. Charles was also present.
There was a bit of conversation about nothing at all, before the defense attorney finally said, “What will it take to make this case go away, Mr. O’Neill?”
William O’Neill slid a document across the table to Charles Savage, who picked it up and read it.
“This is basically what the original filing asked for,” he said.
“It’s cheap, compared to the alternative,” Mr. O’Neill said.
“And that would be?”
“I would like nothing better than to put the Southern Baptist Church on trial, and I am fully prepared to do so,” Mr. O’Neill said, as he slid another document across the table.
“What’s this?” Savage asked.
“A list of fifty bible scholars, representing Episcopal, Methodist, Presbyterian, and Lutheran Seminaries. I even have a couple of Jesuit scholars, who have broken with Rome on the subject of Homosexuality. These witnesses are ready to refute, point by point, all of the various things that the defendant taught the plaintiffs’ children.”
“You would actually call fifty people to testify?”
“Indeed, I would,” Mr. O’Neill said. “Understand this, I have a blank check from the Foundation and from the plaintiffs. The document you are looking at is merely my “A” list of witnesses. I have a “B” list, and a “C” list, both of which are equally long, if not longer. Needless to say, the press will have a field day.”
Savage looked at Charles. “Mr. Barnett, what is your position on all of this?”
“I am here ‘of counsel,’” Charles said, “and to make the point that the full resources of Chandler, Todd, Woodward & Barnett are available to Mr. O’Neill, should he need them.”
“Just so we understand each other,” Mr. O’Neill said, “The plaintiffs want compensation in the amounts stated, and a very public apology for what your client, and by extension, his church, did to those children. These parents are extremely angry, and there is very little wiggle room for negotiation.”
Mr. Savage sighed, and said, “Give me a few days, and I’ll get back to you.”
“We’ll give you a week, before we proceed,” Mr. O’Neill said.
Savage returned his paperwork to his briefcase, closed it, and left the room.
“Well, Charles,” O’Neill said, “what do you think?”
“It’s hard to say, Bill,” Charles said. “In the end, I suspect it will depend upon what price that church places on its pride. On the other hand, Mr. Savage is smart enough to explain to Mr. Wilson and his Church, that a lengthy trial will involve several weeks of negative publicity. He also has to be very much aware that the Foundation hasn’t lost a case, yet.”
“We’ll just have to wait and see,” Mr. O’Neill said.
Charles and I walked back to the parking lot together. “It’s nearly eleven-thirty,” he said, “want to have an early lunch?”
“You’re on,” I said.
We drove to a quiet little restaurant in the Virginia Highlands neighborhood, and were seated at a table on the rear patio.
“You know, babe,” Charles said, “I’ve been thinking.”
“About?”
“With four boys, and two more on the way, we need to think about enlarging the beach house.”
“Should we expand up, or out?”
“Whichever will be easier. I think there is enough room between the entrance of the house and the street to add a couple of rooms at the first floor level.”
“Will the setback restrictions allow that?” I said.
“Probably, but I will have to check it out.”
“Handle it, handle it.”
“Consider it done.”
“I guess great minds think alike,” I said.
“Meaning?”
“I’ve been thinking about the Keep, and whether or not it should be enlarged to accommodate our tribe.”
“Handle it, handle it,” he said, tossing my words back at me.
“You know I’ve been working with a Realtor in North Carolina, hoping to acquire more land in the valley?”
“I remember you telling me about it.”
“As of this morning, I’ve tied up two adjacent tracts, with enough cleared land to create a grass landing strip.”
“Will it be long enough?”
“About a hundred yards longer than you told me the plane required.”
“That should do it,” he said.
“I’ve also had a few other thoughts.”
“Are you going to keep them secret?” he said.
“I’m a little worried about the direction in which the country is currently headed, so I’m thinking about making us considerably more liquid than we are.”
“You’re referring to the possibility of a huge tax increase?”
“I’m referring to the possibility of a confiscatory tax increase.”
“Can you achieve the desired amount of liquidity, without incurring a lot of capital gains?” he said.
“You know I’m days away from donating the Boston building to the Foundation,” I said.
“And?”
“I’m going to sell a number of stocks that aren’t doing too well right now. The losses will be absorbed by the gain on the Boston building.”
“That’s your area of expertise, babe,” he said. “Make it so.”
“I’ll set things in motion next week.”
“Have you any specific plans for the proceeds?”
“I haven’t worked it out yet, but I’m thinking we should put at least 25% in gold, and I think it’s time we had a couple of offshore accounts.”
“You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?”
“Indeed I am. There are too many candidates running for office that believe they know what is best for everyone, and are perfectly willing to confiscate our wealth and ‘redistribute’ it.”
“There is something else we ought to do,” he said.
“And that would be?”
“Shift a larger percentage of our investments into tax exempt securities.”
“Great minds again,” I said. “Randolph and I have been working on a strategy to do just that.”
“At the risk of seeming repetitious, handle it babe, handle it.”
“You know I will.”
“By the way, I keep forgetting to ask you about the new book. How’s it coming?”
“Mostly by hand,” I said.
“Very funny.”
“You set ‘em up, and I’ll knock ‘em down.”
“I like what you said about our brood just now.”
“What did I say?”
“You referred to them as the tribe.”
“Oh yes, so I did.”
“I think we need to remember that one, and use it again,” he said.
“Works for me.”
“However did I get so lucky,” he said, with a smile.
“Lucky?”
“Don’t be coy. You know what I mean.”
“Perhaps, but it’s nice to hear it once in a while.”
We finished our lunch and drove back to the parking lot where I had left my car. I went straight home, and changed into shorts and a knit shirt. As I walked down the hall to our office, I heard sounds from overhead, so I climbed to the third floor playroom, and found Gran and Grace, sitting in easy chairs, watching Mark and Steven running about, and J. J. and R. B. crawling around after them.
“It makes me tired to look at them,” Gran said. “All that energy.”
I laughed, and said, “Too bad we can’t figure out a way to harness it.”
I got down on the floor, and played with the boys for a while, until Grace announced that it was nap time. She and I each picked up one of the crawlers, and led the other two down the stairs. After the kids were down for the count, I joined Gran downstairs in the sun room for a cup of tea, before I went up to the office and started writing.
I was still at it, a few hours later, when I sensed a presence in the room, just before I felt Charles’ arms circling me from behind.
“Are you at a stopping point?”
“Give me five minutes to wrap up this scene,” I said.
“Just so you have your naked body in the bed by the time I get out of the shower,” he said, and he left the room.
After we exercised our naked bodies on the bed, we showered together, and dressed to go downstairs for dinner. We escorted Steven and Mark down to the dining room. As soon as the two of them were able to sit in high chairs, we had begun to make a point of having the entire family at dinner. Occasionally, Charles would have to work late, or Roger and Steve would be delayed by either their business, or some after school activity, but we managed to have everyone at the dinner table roughly eight nights out of ten, at least on week nights.
The boys would occasionally be tempted to grab fast food on the way home, but we had managed to persuade them not to do so. We had discussed this with Mason and Angela, and they were in total agreement with the program.
Our program was not rigid. We made exceptions on those nights when the gang came over with pizza, and Steve and Roger were allowed an occasional weekend night out to have dinner together and go to a movie.
After dinner, we took the little ones up to the playroom. Steve and Roger joined us, and played with the boys for a while, before they went to their room to do their homework.
Later that evening, Charles and I were in the upstairs study, listening to music, when the teenagers joined us.
“What’s up, guys?” Charles said.
“Can we invite Tom and Larry over for the weekend?” Steve said.
“Tom and Larry from the swim team?” I said, picturing the two very attractive blondes I had met several times over the summer.
“Right,” Steve said.
“They’re a couple, aren’t they?” Charles said.
“Yes sir, just like us,” Roger said.
“Do their parents know about them?” I said, “and for that matter, do their parents know they will be spending the weekend in a gay household?”
“Yes to all of the above, Uncle Philip,” Steve said.
“In that case, no problem,” Charles said.
“What about your customers?”
“We’ll be caught up by Friday afternoon,” Steve said.
“The crew will handle the weekend, no problem,” Roger said.
The two house guests rode home from school with Steve and Roger. As soon as their guests had been shown their room, the four boys went out to the pool. Later, at the dinner table, they held their own, participating in the lively conversation that had become standard for our little family at the table. We learned, among other things, that both boys held Black Belts in Karate. Steve and Roger had been taking lessons off and on, but had not progressed that far with their training.
The four boys joined us in the upstairs study later.
“What do you guys have on tap for tomorrow, Steve?” I said.
“We want to go to a matinee at the Multiplex out at the Mall of Georgia.”
“That’s a long way to drive, just for a movie,” Charles said.
“Yes sir,” Roger said, “but the film we want to see isn’t playing anywhere else in town.”
“Randy Baldwin and his girlfriend are going to meet us there,” Steve said.
“Why do I recognize that name?” I said.
“From our payroll,” Steve said. “He’s one of our crew leaders.”
“Tom and Larry,” Charles said, “are your parents okay with you going to a movie way out in the suburbs?”
“Probably,” Tom said.
“Ditto,” Larry said.
Charles handed Tom his cell phone, and said, “Why don’t you call them and make certain.”
Following Charles’ cue, I handed Larry my cell phone and asked him to do the same.
We listened to the boys’ end of the calls, and were satisfied at what we heard.
Steve had an extremely puzzled and hurt look on his face.
“Was that necessary, Uncle Philip?”
“Yes, Steve,” Charles said, “It was. Tom and Larry are our guests for the weekend, and that makes us responsible. If we let the four of you go out to Gwinnett County without their parents’ knowledge, and you had an accident or something, we could be held legally liable.”
“You didn’t ask Roger to call his parents,” Steve said.
“Of course not,” Charles said. “When Roger moved in here, his parents signed documents allowing Philip and me to stand in loco parentis.”
“What’s that mean?”
“You’ve studied Latin,” I said. “You tell me.”
“Can you repeat what you said, Uncle Charles?”
“In loco parentis.”
He thought about it for a minute, and said, “In the place of parents.”
“Go to the head of the class, kiddo,” I said.
“You guys all watch television,” I said. “How many programs have you seen involving a scenario where teenagers came to harm while the parents had no idea where they were or what they were doing?”
“Sorry guys,” Charles said, addressing our guests. “I’m a lawyer and I don’t believe in taking unnecessary risks.”
“I understand,” Tom said.
“So do I,” Larry said. “I wish the parents of some of our other friends were interested enough to worry about such things.”
I went to Steve, who was standing, and gave him a big hug. “Steve, I promised my sister that you would never come to harm on my watch,” I said. “That protection extends to your friends when they are under this room. Do you understand?”
He hugged me back, and said, “Yes, Uncle Philip, I understand. I’m sorry I got carried away.”
The boys all said good night, and headed down the hallway.
Charles filled two wineglasses and handed one of them to me. “We’ve got a lot to look forward to,” he said.
“You’ve got that right,” I said, as I raised my glass to his.
The next morning at breakfast, the four boys acted as though there had been no tension the night before. They spent most of the morning around the pool and after a late lunch, the four of them left for the Mall of Georgia in my car, with Steve at the wheel.
Their movie was around three-thirty, and they planned to eat afterward, promising to be home by eight.
We spent an hour in the playroom, with the tribe, as we now referred to them, and when nap time arrived Charles and I went on a small shopping expedition, which included a visit to Lenox Square and a Wine Shop in Buckhead.
We were on the way back to the house. “By the way, we have a wine tasting next week,” Charles said.
“I saw the flyer, but didn’t take time to look at it. Tell me about it.”
“We are doing a horizontal tasting of Ravenswood Zinfandel. It should be very interesting - same grape, same winemaker, fourteen different geographic locations.”
“Geography makes that much difference,” I said.
“You bet,” he said. “I can name a couple of vineyards on hillsides in Napa Valley that have three distinct microclimates, all within twenty or so acres. Each microclimate leaves its own distinct mark on the grapes.”
“You’re the expert.”
We arrived at home, and took our purchases into the house. I carried the clothing we had bought upstairs while Charles took two cases of wine to the basement wine cellar.
We spent some time playing with the tribe, then we went to the master bedroom to unwind for a while. We had just taken a shower and finished dressing, when Charles’ cell phone rang.
He answered, and said “Yes, I’ll accept the charges.”
He listened for a minute or two and said, “Start from the beginning, and tell me everything.”
Finally he said, “We’re on our way,” and ended the call.
“What was that about?” I said.
“In a word, Steve and the others have been arrested in Gwinnett County, and we have to leave right now.”
-To be continued-
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
Your feedback, as always, is appreciated, be it good, bad, or indifferent.