Date: Sat, 30 Aug 2008 16:16:52 -0700 (PDT)
From: adm2780 <adm2780@yahoo.com>
Subject: Second Time Around  Chapter Twenty-One

All rights reserved.  Other than downloading one copy for personal
enjoyment, no part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted by any
means, except for reviews, without the written permission of the author.
As in real life, the sexual themes unfold gradually and are kept to a
realistic level.  If you are looking for sex on every page, then this is
not the story for you.  Comments on the story are appreciated and may be
addressed to the author, Dwight Wilson, at adm2780@yahoo.com

This story contains descriptions of consensual sexual contact between
males, adult and minor.  As such it is homoerotic, designed for the
entertainment of mature adults.  If you are not of legal age to read such
material, or if the subject matter would create irresolvable personal moral
dilemmas, please exit now.

NOTE: Special thanks to Matthew for his time and efforts proof reading and
editing the 2chapters.  Want to read a couple of good stories?  Try "Never
Take Love For Granted" or "One Gift To Give".  They are both excellent.


Chapter Twenty-One:  Second Time Around


I woke again in the predawn hours.  This time, I was wide awake; there was
no going back to sleep.  Sean, like most kids his age, had the ability to
slip into a deep sleep; I was almost envious.  Slipping out of the bed, I
was careful not to disturb him.

The house was quiet, eerily quiet for a house with four teenagers in it.
Moments like this were rare and I decided to enjoy it.  After making a pot
of coffee, I settled on the sofa with my laptop.  I was curious to see if
Linda, my contact at the relo office, or the realtor, had forwarded any
pictures of potential homes for us to view.  Linda had promised pictures
within a couple of hours the previous afternoon.  Sean's needs altered my
original plans, but now there was no one to bother me.

Something that concerned me from the beginning was the boys' schooling.  I
knew that I could choose between public school or private school.  If I
lived close in town, I knew that I would choose private schooling,
preferably Bolles.  Consideration also had to be given to the fact that the
boys made a lot of their friends at school and it would help if they
attended the same school as a number of the other kids in our neighborhood.
That consideration brought up the additional consideration that I wanted a
neighborhood that had other kids in my boys' age group.  Something as
simple as finding a home for us was quickly becoming not so simple.  I
wondered if Kathy went through all this when she picked out our home in New
York.

Linda did send me an email, with attachments.  The attachments were
pictures of prospective homes.  None of them matched all the requirements I
had listed, but they did meet most of the major points, except for some of
the prices.  I still wanted to know where people thought I had all this
money.  It was that or the homes were priced high for some heavy
negotiating, which I doubted.  The homes were spread between the Old San
Jose area, which was near downtown, south through Mandarin, and into
St. Johns County.  A good guesstimate was a spread of about fifteen miles
and again brought the schooling factor into play.

"Hey, Dad."  Frank almost startled me.

"Frank, what are you doing up this early, son?"

"I don't know; just couldn't sleep, I guess.  How come you're up this
early?"

"Just couldn't sleep, I guess."  I smiled at him. "I think I fell asleep a
little early last night."

"A little?"  Frank made it sound like a dumb statement.  "Dad, you didn't
even get dinner for us.  We had to suffer through frozen pizzas.  You
shoulda heard Mike.  He swears he has carb poisoning."

"What on earth is carb poisoning?"

"Who knows.  Probably just some crap Mike made up.  He hadn't figured out
teens are s'posed ta live on carbs and junk food."

"Don't you think you should go back to bed and try to get a little more
rest, son?"

"Yeah, I know, but I'm wide awake.  'Course, we didn't get ta sleep too
early.  Sean's a louder screamer than Mike."  Now Frank was laughing.  "Can
I have a cup a' coffee?"

Interestingly, he asked the question as he pulled a cup out of the
cupboard.  I assumed the question was rhetorical and didn't answer.  When
he had poured his coffee and mixed in the condiments, he joined me on the
sofa.

"Whatcha lookin' at?"

"Schools.  Your grandmother tells me you boys have an interesting pool
going."  I always enjoyed that little innocent, but guilty, look with a
slight grin the boys got when they knew I'd found out about something they
didn't want me to know.

"Pool?" He couldn't even sound half innocent; he did better with the look.
I just looked at him and waited.  Finally, he smiled.  "Oh, you mean the
one 'bout when you're gonna tell us when we're movin' back here?"

"The one?  Is there another I should know about?"

"No, sir."  The response was open to interpretation.  Did he mean there
wasn't another pool or there wasn't another pool I needed to know about?
"You got the job didn't ya?"

"Yes, I did."  Frank was too old for me to play games with him. "Now that
we both know what's going on, would you like to see the pictures of the
homes available?"  Frank moved closer to me and I twisted the lap-top for
him to see.

"This is a house in Mandarin.  You can see it's on the river.  In fact,
across the street from it is the Mandarin Community Center.  The center
occupies what used to be the winter home of Harriet Beecher Stowe.  The
house sits on what used to be her front yard."

"Isn't she the one that wrote Uncle Tom's Cabin ?"  I nodded.  "Dad, that
was an anti- slavery book published during the Civil War.  I'm surprised
they let her stay down here"

"What you have to understand son is that this area wasn't as pro-slavery as
many other parts of the south.  The hard-core pro-slavery people came from
the plantation states where they needed slaves to work the fields.  There
were some slaves around here, but nothing like you would find in Georgia or
South Carolina."

"Well, if you're lookin' for an opinion, I have one."  I just looked and
waited.  "Nice house, but not for us."

"Any particular reason?"

"Yeah, it's too wide open.  There's no privacy, Dad.  Could you imagine
what the neighbors would say if they saw me and Mikey runnin' around the
yard like we do at home?  They'd probably think a coupla naked boys runnin'
around was okay if we were just outta diapers, but I doubt they'd like it
if we're teenagers."

"Has it ever occurred to either of you that you could wear some clothes and
it wouldn't kill you?"

"Yeah . . . . but why?"  I gave up.  There was no way I was going to win
the argument and I knew it.  Kathy and I had let them run free since they
were potty trained; I wasn't going to change that now.

We looked at some more of the pictures and I think we both had the idea
that you couldn't tell much from a picture.  One of my big concerns was
that there were few pictures of the interior.  There were some of the
virtual tours, but the pictures on those are always distorted.  I knew that
I was going to have to take a ride and see the neighborhoods.  If I liked
the neighborhood, then I'd give the house further consideration.  I think
Frank felt a little frustrated, also.  He moved my lap-top, dropped a
pillow across my lap and then laid across the pillow.

"That's frustratin', Dad.  You need to rub my back; we'll both feel
better."

"Rubbing you back is supposed to make me feel better?"

"I don't know, but it sounded good, didn't it?"

Frank grew very quiet while I rubbed his back.  Like his brother, he was
young and I could feel the taught muscles below velvety soft skin.  He was
right about one thing, rubbing his back made me feel good.  I could feel
him relax and knew he enjoyed it.  As a parent, that made me feel good.

"Dad, can I ask ya somethin'?"  I waited, and was floored.  "Did you love
Mom?"

"Absolutely.  Your mother gave me the two best gifts any man could ever ask
for.  What makes you ask a question like that?"

"Well, you know, like when you popped Mike's and Sean's cherry for 'em.  I
mean, that's not somethin' a lot of husbands and wives do; least I don't
think it is.  I know that you can . . . . well, you know what I mean.
How'd you learn?  Was it David?"

"Son, when your mother and I were growing up, we were told, and taught,
what society expected of us and the consequences of doing anything else.
As young adults, we realized what happened.  We also understood why.  We
decided that we wanted you and Michael to have more freedom than we did;
that included the freedom to make certain choices."

"Choices?  You mean like whether we want to fool around some, like with
other guys?"

"That, and others.  Such as, we've never dictated to either of you what you
had to wear.  So long as you didn't go too wild, we let you express
yourselves.  Hopefully, I've continued to do that even after losing your
mother."

"Dad, did you make a different choice after Mom died?"  I looked at him for
a moment before answering.

"Yes, I did.  My choice was to experiment a little and then decide what I
wanted.  I'm giving myself the same opportunity to explore my feelings and
desires that I'm encouraging you to take.  Understand?"

"Yes, sir; I think so." His tone of voice didn't sound convincing; I could
tell the wheels were still turning in his head.  "When you were our age,
did you fool around or experiment?"

"Not like you guys do.  Frank, you have to try and appreciate that society
wasn't as open as it is today.  All guys hung around and told dirty jokes,
bragged about how big their equipment was, and if you had a Playboy
magazine, you were king of the hill."  Frank looked over his shoulder at
me.

"Dad, that sounds worse than the Dark Ages."

"It was the Dark Ages."  I smiled and gave him a light pat on his bottom.

He lay quietly across my lap while I rubbed ad massaged his back.  It was
nice to play with him by running a finger-tip around the edge of his cheeks
or up and down his crack.  He would wiggle his butt and whimper like a
puppy.  About the third time I teased him that way, I noticed that he
spread his legs a little.  Laughing to myself, I slipped my middle finger
down his crack, tapped his anal ring a little until I heard him giggle, and
put my middle finger on his perineum and massaged.  Frank responded like
any teenager and quickly went into heat.

"Da-ad, that's not nice."

"Want me to quit?"  He wiggled his butt and took a deep breath.  He didn't
want me to quit.

Placing my hands on his shoulders, I guided him onto his back.  He looked
at me briefly before closing his eyes and laying his right forearm over his
eyes.  His legs remained separated; his boyhood at full mast.  As I ran my
finger along the edge of his ears and then his jaw-line, I felt content.  I
was sure there were many men who could only wish that their sons would be
as open and honest with them as my boys.  Who was the idiot that started
teaching teenage boys that it wasn't macho to want to be loved?  Any man
who had two sons as beautiful as mine could only consider himself to be
extremely lucky.

Frank tried to be stoic.  The more determined he was to be stoic, the more
I teased him and the more he had to bite his lip to avoid smiling.  My
fingernails tracing circles around his nipples didn't help him much.
Neither did my left hand when the thumbnail and middle finger formed an
arch over his boyhood and started moving up and down his torso.  He was a
goner.  He whimpered and squirmed.  He did everything but beg me to bring
him off.  The look on his face when I encased his scrotum in the palm of my
hand was priceless.  Then I felt the sofa move.

Eric joined us.  I hadn't heard him come in.  Eric kept his left foot on
the floor, and his right knee was between Frank's legs.  He sat on Frank's
leg; interesting.  Then I noticed his right hand was caressing Frank's
thigh.

"Good morning," I said, not knowing what else to say.

"Hi," was his simple reply; then, "you teasing Frank?"

"I call it teasing; I think he may call it something else at the moment."

"It's torture!" Frank whined.  "Get 'im Eric."

It was going to be interesting to see how Eric might try to get me.
Evidently, he had another interpretation of Frank's demand.  Eric arched
his back in what I thought was an unusual way, leaned forward and grabbed
Frank's stiff pole.  The next thing I knew, Eric's lips were buried in
Frank's pubes.  Now, I had shown the boys how to deep throat someone, or at
least swallow their pole.  However, Eric did that much too easily and much
too fast for a novice.  I was a novice and knew I couldn't move the way he
did.  Frank gasped for air, whimpered and got a death grip on my arm.

A little dumbfounded would have been an understatement.  It was one thing
to have my younger son lying across my lap, au natural, with me teasing
him, knowing he was getting more than a little worked-up.  That was
entertaining for me and fulfilling for him.  Then my nephew comes in,
uninvited and unannounced, also au natural, plants the crack of his little
teen butt on my son's leg and proceeds to give him a blow job that was
anything but from a novice.

Eric bobbed up and down on Frank's pole about five times, wrapped his fist
around Frank's pole and proceeded to swirl his tongue around the head.  His
other hand was hidden from my view and I could only guess what he might be
doing with it.  Massaging Frank's twins or tickling his ass; or whatever.
When I got over the initial surprise, I didn't say anything, but I did
proceed to tease Frank's nipples with a little rubbing, pinching and
flicking.  When Frank tried to reach down and grab the back of Eric's head,
I pinned Frank's arms down.  Let it drive him wild, it's good for him and,
I thought it was entertaining.

It didn't take too long for Eric to bring Frank off.  When Frank kept
squirming and whimpering, and particularly when he tried humping into
Eric's mouth, I knew the moment was near.  By that time I could see that
Eric was squeezing Frank's balls and his pace increased.  Eric went down
and stayed what I thought was a long time; I could see his throat muscles
working, fast.  When it was over Frank and Eric were both covered in a
light sheen of sweat.  I just looked at Eric.

"Eric?" I waited for him to regain his normal breathing and look at me.
"Do you and I need to have a talk?"

"I guess," Eric answered, his nervousness obvious in his voice.  He
wouldn't look at me and I could tell he was about to break down.  "I
thought . . .maybe . . ."

"Eric, look at me, son."  I put the tips of two fingers under his chin to
lift his head.  "You don't have to be afraid to say anything to me.  I'm
here to help you. Now, I think it's fairly obvious at this point that you
didn't tell me everything back at Thanksgiving.  I think we need to start
over again.  Don't you?"

"Uncle Rick, if my dad knew, he'd kill me.  He thinks I'm gay now and
there's nothin' lower ta him.  If he knew what I've been doin', he'd kill
me, Uncle Rick."  He broke into tears.  I reached out and he melted into my
arms.  Frank remained pinned below us.

Frank managed to work his way from under us and sat in a nearby chair.
Everyone was quiet for a few minutes while Eric fought to regain control.
I was pleased to see that Frank understood his cousin's situation enough to
give him some space.

"Dad, we've been tryin' ta get Eric to talk to you, but he was afraid.  He
told us stories about his dad and how he made fun of gay people.  All he
really did was make Eric crawl into a hole and go deeper.  He knows that
Aunt Bonnie knows, that's why she let him stay with us at Thanksgiving, and
now."

"I know, son.  Bonnie and I talked and she hoped that Eric would open up to
us so we could help him.  Eric admitted to me then that he thought he was
gay.  However, that wasn't exactly the truth, or at least not all of it."
Eric curled up in a fetal position and lay on the sofa with his head in my
lap.

"I wanted to, Uncle Rick, but it seemed easier to just say nothin'."  Eric
paused and sniffed, then continued.  "When I heard you out here with Frank,
I thought maybe with Frank here, I could say somethin'.  Then when I saw
you teasin' Frank, I don't know, it just seemed easier ta show ya than to
say it.  I think you got the message."  Eric couldn't help but laugh a
little.

"Oh, I'd say that I got a message, alright.  Now, I think you may need to
clarify that message a little.  You didn't learn all that from the little
bit I taught you boys."

"No, sir.  I been suckin' for a while now.  What I was afraid ta tell ya
was that I had a friend back home.  Him and me been suckin' each other
kinda regular for a while now."  I had to sit back and take a deep breath.
I thought my own boys could present me with challenges.

"Define 'a while' for me."

"'Bout three years or so?"  Eric sounded like he wasn't sure he should tell
me, and cringed.

"Three years!?" I was now truly dumbfounded.  "Eric, you weren't even into
puberty then."

"No, sir.  But . . .well, we didn't really start suckin' then.  It was more
like feelin' each other up and belly rubbin'.  The suckin' part just kinda
followed.  When we started suckin' neither one of us was big enough to make
the other one gag.  We couldn't shoot or anythin', but it still felt good."

Eric kept talking; it was like once the fear was removed he couldn't get it
all out fast enough.  My mind was numb, then swirling, trying to put
everything into perspective.  In the end, I figured he really hadn't done
anything that my boys hadn't done, it was just that he did it with a friend
rather than a brother.

"Eric, have you fooled around with anyone other than your boy-friend?
Except here, of course."

"Actually, Uncle Rick, he's not really my boy-friend.  He's more just like
a fuck buddy, if you know what I mean.  I haven't fooled around with
anybody else and he swears that he hadn't neither.  We're both too scared
the wrong people'd find out and then our asses wouldn't be worth anything."

"One more question, son."  I tried to sound calm and reassuring, for both
of us.  "Have you let anyone penetrate you?"

"If you mean just my butt, only kinda.  'Course he had ta stick me in the
mouth for a blow job."  I looked at him and figured out he needed to
explain part of that answer.  "When I say kinda, I mean we stuck a candle
up our butts and we fingered each other some.  Nobody's ever fucked me,
though.  I got kinda excited when you said you'd teach us; then I got
scared, too."

"Scared?  Why?"

"Uncle Rick, don't look now . . . I mean, no offense and all . . but you're
not very small and I still have a kid's butt.  I figured it'd really hurt.
After hearin' Mike and Sean, I think I was right.  I know before it was
over they were probably beggin' for it from the way they cried out and
panted and all, but it still seems like it'd hurt a lot."

"Dad," Frank interrupted, . . .thankfully.  "We were kinda thinkin' that
maybe you could show us at the same time.  Don't misunderstand now, it'd be
nice and all for you ta do it, but we were thinkin' that . . .well, since
I'm smaller than you, and Eric's smaller than you, we could start there and
work our way up, so to speak.  Understand?"

At this point, I wasn't totally sure that I was up to thinking clearly.  I
didn't say anything, and neither did the boys.  I did hand Eric my empty
coffee cup and he didn't need to ask what to do with it.

"Dad?" Frank said tentatively, "We're not talkin' 'bout right now, or even
today, unless you want to."

"Yeah, Uncle Rick," Eric returned with my coffee, "we don't really have ta
do it for tonight."  That got my attention.

"Do it for tonight?  What's tonight supposed to mean?"  The parental red
flags were flying.  Both boys started looking at each other.  Their eyes
conveyed a single message, "oh, shit".

"We meant we don't' have ta do it right now, or even tonight.  We can
wait."  Eric talked just a little too fast.  Frank didn't say anything and
I could see the wheels turning.

"Eric, I think you need to sit over there next to Frank." I watched Eric
change seats.  Frank's wheels were still turning.  "Frank, is there
something you think you might need to tell me?"  Frank's expression
screamed "yes, but no, please don't make me."  Too late.

"Now, Eric, Frank and Mike both know that the worst thing they could ever
do is lie to me.  I am well aware of the fact that they do some things I
don't know about, and I mean things I'm sure they know I most likely
wouldn't approve of.  However, once I have an idea that something may be
going on, they know better than to lie to me.  Now, who wants to fess up?"
Both boys took deep breaths and looked at one another.

"Uncle Rick, I didn't really lie to ya.  I just didn't tell you everything;
actually, I think I told ya too much.  My ass is really gonna be in a crack
with the guys now."  Eric almost sounded pathetic.

"Why don't you just go ahead and finish telling me too much before your
little ass in an even deeper crack with me?"  Eric was a real squirmer when
cornered.

"I'll tell 'im," Frank volunteered.  "We kinda been talkin' 'bout maybe
havin' a little party of our own to celebrate the New Year.  We thought we
could come back here a little early and maybe jump in the hot tub.  James
and Donnie were comin' with us."  I looked at both of them and waited.  I
loved it when they made themselves squirm.  "Well, one idea led to another
and then somebody came up with the idea of havin' a real celebration."

"What did 'somebody' suggest as a real celebration?" I asked.

"Well, we kinda thought it might be fun ta have a real orgy.  Not too wild,
just some fun, but you kinda messed it up."  I gave them a questioning
look.  "We didn't tell 'em that we were still virgins.  We kinda let 'em
think we'd been foolin' around for a long time.  See, Dad, James and
Donnie, well, according to them they've been pokin' each other for a long
time. Well, you know how it is."  Those two boys looked so sad and nervous,
I almost felt sorry for them; almost.

"We think it'd be lots of fun to stay at the club, Uncle Rick.  We really
do."  They needed to practice on their recovery a little more.

"Uh-huh," was my only reaction to that line.  "How about, you plan on
enjoying yourselves at the club.  We'll all talk about this situation later
on this afternoon.  In the meantime, I suggest you two might want to check
your clothes for this evening . . . at the club.

Two boys quickly disappeared.  I took a deep breath and wished for
something hard to flavor my coffee.


One of my favorite tricks for punishing the boys was to let them sweat it
out.  I would let them know the subject wasn't closed and then let them
think about it for a while.  They could usually come up with punishments
far worse than anything I could think of, and then suffer through those
punishments in their minds.  I knew Frank and Eric would tell Mike and
Sean.  It would be interesting to be sitting close by when they made
excuses to the other two boys, but that wasn't going to happen.  Four boys
could never be as good as my four were that afternoon.  Too bad I wouldn't
be able to share the story with Eric's parents.

Sometime, somewhere, it wouldn't surprise me to find out they had been
involved with an orgy.  My concern was with whom and to be certain they
were protected.  I knew better than to fight nature.  Another big concern
was Eric and his dad, Bob.  Simply stated, Bob was an idiot, a bigot and an
overall first-class ass-hole.  I didn't think he would kill Eric, but he
might try to beat him.  I also knew there was trouble between my sister and
her husband and wondered how much Eric knew.

After lunch, I kept the boys inside for a little while.  James and Donnie
had been over, but returned to their grandparents' home to get ready for
the party at the club.  I needed the time to talk to the boys.  Sooner or
later they would make the connection with moving and having to be separated
from Sean.  It wasn't going to be easy and I wanted to get the bad news
behind us before the party.

Sean and my boys were like brothers, but there wasn't anything I could do
about it.  What I could do was arrange with his mother to fly Sean down on
long weekends and during school breaks.  The boys weren't really satisfied,
but they were accepting of the situation.  The depression with Sean was
balanced by Eric's elation.  He was looking for weekends, too.

After settling things regarding the move and visits, we all took a short
break and then sat down to view potential homes.  Once the boys got into
it, including Sean and Eric, I was surprised at their ideas of what was
'absolutely needed' for them to live comfortably.  The list included a game
room with pool table and game machines, a work-out room, a heated pool, and
privacy.  Desired, but not necessarily required, items included an oversize
shower and outside kitchen.  Interestingly, no one asked me what I thought
was important or necessary.  The boys spent most of their afternoon talking
about the new house and searching the internet.  They even took some time
to search out some of the schools.  I spent most of my afternoon worrying
about bankruptcy.

                                           * * * *

The New Year brought new challenges.  Some I was prepared to handle, some I
wasn't.  The party had been nice.  The family stayed together during
dinner.  There was the usual greeting of friends not seen for too long,
particularly with Mother.  To my surprise, I found out that she knew Donnie
and James' grandparents.  After I thought about it, it really wasn't a
surprise.  The club members were like an extended family and when you've
been in that family for over twenty-five years, you get to know a few
people.

The boys handled themselves well.  Eric was nervous around Bob, Bob was his
usual jerk self that everyone tolerated.  Frank, Michael and Eric had to
endure the embarrassment of stories from people that knew them from the
time they were born; people the three boys had absolutely no recollection
of.  There were the usual 'I remember when you. . .'  comments along with
'you used to come with your grandparents' followed by innocuous stories.
Michael nearly crawled under the table when one of Mother's friends told
Michael about the time she was changing his diaper and he peed on her.
That story, and a few others about Michael and Frank, became fodder for the
other boys for the rest of the evening.

After dinner, the younger crowd disappeared to another ball-room for their
gathering while we stayed with the older generation.  We got elevator music
with a little soft rock n' roll.  The kids got music with a driving beat so
loud it vibrated the building and you couldn't hear yourself think.  I was
very proud of Michael and Frank when they stayed to dance with their
grandmother before going to their party.  It was a simple two step for
Michael, and he mainly turned in a circle, but he tried.  Frank got a
waltz, one of Mother's favorites, and Frank's best.  Not to be outdone,
Eric danced with Bonnie, and Sean asked Bonnie for the second dance.  Bob
and I sat and watched.

The next two days were spent riding around looking at houses.  My formula
was to get the address and ride the neighborhood.  If I liked the area and
there was sufficient curb appeal, an appointment was set.  It's amazing how
many things you find about a house that you don't like.  The two issues the
boys came up with was no pool and a lack of privacy.  Heaven forbid that I
should suggest to my boys that they wear clothes at home.

We were just about at our wits end when we found three houses that caught
our interest.  All three were two story Georgian bricks.  There was only a
slight variation in square footage, but a big difference in lot size.  I
kept kidding the boys about pushing a lawn mower around the yards.  They
weren't sure if I was kidding or not.  The solution was to make a list of
the negatives, determine which negatives we could live with, and which
negatives we could correct.  The whole family, including Bob and Mother,
thought they should contribute to this decision.  When I looked at the
lists, I thought it was interesting that there was one negative no one
wrote down but me, the price.

We found a house in an older section off Mandarin Road.  As we rode through
the area, Mother talked about how it wasn't that long ago that most of the
land was orange groves.  We found what we were looking for in an old estate
that had been subdivided and restricted to the type of homes we wanted.
There were other kids in the area close to my sons' ages.  The lot was only
a little over an acre, just large enough for the boys to receive a riding
lawn mower as a belated Christmas surprise.  I laughed to myself, and saw
Mother's little smile, when the realtor told us there were four producing
orange trees in the yard.  The location gave us woods along the rear and up
one side.  The other side was part of a preservation area.  We had the
privacy everyone wanted which I was not going to explain to Mother and
which she was considerate enough not to ask.  The other big requirement
could be handled with a custom pool builder.

When I heard the price, I was surprised, pleasantly.  The house was part of
an estate and had to be sold to pay taxes.  That alone told me whoever had
owned it had to be very comfortable.  I related financial comfort to the
ability to properly care for the house.  The condition of the grounds and
furnishings confirmed my guess.  I was able to acquire a home for us in a
good area and for a price much lower than I anticipated.  Saving money
always made me smile.  We made an offer a little below asking, but set the
closing date in less than thirty days.  We had an acceptance in less than
two hours.

Our good fortune was a cause to celebrate.  Dinner for the whole family was
on me at The Tree Steakhouse.  While we were there, Mother let me know we
needed to talk again, this time about Bonnie and Eric.  I knew what was
coming, a storm; Eric stayed with us.  Bob was his normal morose self, but
the rest of us enjoyed ourselves.  The boys decorated their rooms; why, I
don't know.  Nothing was going to change but I guess they wanted to put up
a good front for their grandmother.  Bonnie listened and smirked.  I
cringed at the cost of what they wanted.

When we got home, I was thoroughly relaxed from more than a couple of
glasses of wine.  The boys headed to their room and I closed up the house
for the night.  As I headed to my room I was greeted by Frank and Eric,
both were naked as the day they were born and grinning like Cheshire cats.
I just looked at them, questioningly.

"Dad, now that we got the urgent stuff outta the way . . .well, Eric and me
thought maybe it could be cherry poppin' time."

Right then, I wished I had brought the bottle of wine home.


End Chapter Twenty-One
To Be Continued

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