Date: Mon, 21 Nov 2005 17:09:01 -0800 (PST)
From: rimpigfl <rimpigfl@yahoo.com>
Subject: MY SECRETARY'S SON 10 - RESEND

THIS IS NOT my usual story venue. I don't, as most of you know, usually
trespass in the world of Corporate America. However, inspiration cannot be
denied. So here is the story of....

MY SECRETARY'S SON
By RimPig   2005

Chapter 10 - Epilogue

That evening, Robby and I dressed in suits (since we were in London and not
at home) and made our way by one of the London taxis, once again, to the
house in Mayfair where I had lived with Geoffrey.

Again, the maid met us at the door and showed us into the 'parlor'. Looking
up at the seascape above the mantle, I couldn't help but miss the painting
of Tim that had hung there throughout the two years I had lived in this
house.

"Welcome back!" Sarah said, coming into the room in a flowing sheath of
emerald green silk.

"My! You are stunning! That dress really brings out your eyes!" Robby said.

"Well! I take that as a true compliment, coming as it does from someone who
is not attracted to women!" Sarah laughed.

"Even those of us who prefer our own sex are capable of recognizing beauty
when we see it." I said gently.

"Ahh! You are both very gallant gentlemen! Not the 'rough' and 'rude'
people that we have been led to believe Americans are!" she laughed.

"And you are not the 'stuffy' upper-class that we've been taught that the
British are." Robby smiled.

"Of course, I already knew that." I said. "Geoffrey was anything but
'stuffy'!"

"I wish I'd gotten to know him! Everyone I've ever talked to who knew him
says the most fascinating things about him!" Sarah said.

We spent a rather enjoyable evening, having a lovely meal as I shared with
Sarah as many stories about her cousin Geoffrey as I could remember. As it
grew later, however, I started to fade. I begged Sarah's indulgence but
told her that we really needed to get back to the hotel and get some sleep
if we were going to fly home the next day. She understood but made us
promise that if we came back to London, that we would visit her again. We
invited her to come to the States and stay with us.

We exchanged addresses and telephone numbers and promised we would write or
call one another. With that, we went back to the hotel where Robby and I
made love one last time in England and then fell asleep. We flew home the
next day with wonderful memories of our 'honeymoon' and of the lovely woman
that we had met at the home I had shared with Geoffrey all those years
before.

It was only a few days later that I got a call from Robby. I was at the
office and he was at the house, working in his workshop. He told me that I
needed to come home immediately - that something had occurred at the house
that I needed to deal with. I raced home, pushing the Ferrari to excessive
speed, scared that something was wrong.

When I got there, Robby was waiting for me in his workshop. He had a large
crate laid out on his work table.

"What's the matter?!" I exclaimed, the worry showing in my voice.

"Nothing's wrong." Robby said. "I just thought that you needed to see
this."

He was pointing to the crate. He then lifted the lid off and there, lying
in the crate, was the painting of Tim, in his Marine Corps uniform which
had hung in Geoffrey's house.

"There's a letter that was inside the crate when I opened it. It's
addressed to you." Robby said.

I took the letter into my stunned hands and tore open the envelop. Inside
was a single sheet of paper.

"Dear Dan and Robby," it began.

"I always knew that there was something special that I was meant to do with
this painting of my cousin Geoffrey's beloved Tim. I was never, however,
sure of what it was until I met the two of you. I know that Geoffrey would
have wanted the two of you to have this as both a memory of him and as,
shall we say, a 'talisman' of Love to ensure the continued love between the
two of you.

"Love, Sarah."

I stood there, staring down at the painting, speechless. Never thinking I
would see it again, I was completely at a loss of what to think. But Tim's
smiling face in the picture seemed to be telling me that he and Geoffrey
were happy and he was happy to be back in his home country and with two men
who would truly understand that love that he and Geoffrey had shared.

"I know where we should hang it." Robby said.

"Where?" I asked.

"In the cabin. In our private place." he smiled, slipping his arm around
me.  "You know? I think you're right!" I smiled and took him in my arms.

That was ten years ago. I'm sitting here, in the cabin, in front of a
roaring fire staring at a painting above the mantle. No, not the one of
Tim. That hangs upstairs in the loft near our bed. No, this is a painting
of Robby and me. We're both wearing the sweat clothes that we were married
in. I'm behind him with my arms around him, he's holding onto one of my
arms with his hands. You can see the wedding bands that were a gift from
Geoffrey gleaming on our hands in the painting.

We had the portrait painted by a gay artist in St. Louis that Brad had
'married'. Speaking of Brad and marriage, it was right after we had the
portrait painted that Robby and I ended up standing in front of the altar
at St. John's United Church of Christ. We weren't being married, however.
Diane and Brad were. Diane had wanted Robby as her witness and Brad had
asked me to be his best man! Robby and I were both honored to do so.

Robby did apprentice with Carl Dawson for three years but then Carl
admitted that there was nothing left that he could teach him. Robby worked
on his own from the workshop I had built at home for almost two years
before it became very apparent that the orders for his furniture were far
outstripping the capacity of the workshop. We rented him a larger facility
in town that had both a showroom in front and a workshop/warehouse
behind. Robby now has five apprentices and two helpers producing custom
furniture for orders from literally all over the world.

Five years after he opened the new facility, we purchased it and I finally
quit my job to take over the running of "Robert Gould Designs". I run the
business, Robby does the creating. I was able to bully the CEO of the
corporation I was leaving into hiring my hand-picked replacement as Chief
Operations Officer - my mother-in-law, Diane! She and Brad are still
happily married and Dan is now pastor of St. John's where Robby and I
attend church every Sunday.

Yes, Robby and I are still together, still very deeply in love and still
deliriously happy! I sometimes feel guilty about that. I somehow feel that
I have more happiness than any one man deserves. Robby just laughs at me
whenever I admit to those feelings and reminds me how close we came to
being completely miserable without each other!

He and I spend almost every weekend at the cabin and we still love to take
the boat out so that he can fish and I can read on our peaceful lake. Oh,
we finally named the boat. We call it "The Tripoli" - an obscure reference
to the Marine Corps hymn as a remembrance of Tim, who's painting hangs in
our loft, and of Geoffrey who loved him and who he loved so well.

I feel that Geoffrey and Tim, wherever they are, are together and happy and
are watching us and smiling. I'm sure they recognize the deep, abiding and
eternal love that they share when they see Robby and me.

It certainly wasn't my intention to marry my secretary's son. But I will be
eternally grateful for that being the way it turned out.

The End of MY SECRETARY'S SON

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