Date: Thu, 22 Feb 2001 12:52:38 -0800 (PST)
From: Orrin Rush <orrinrush@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Lifeguard

         Disclaimer:  The following is a work of fiction.  If you are
         offended by graphic descriptions of homosexual acts, go
         somewhere else.

         Copyright c 2001 by Orrin C. Rush.  All rights reserved.

         Neither this story nor any parts of it may be distributed
         electronically or in any other manner without the express,
         written consent of the author.

         This is a work of fiction, any resemblance of the characters
         to anyone living or dead is pure coincidence and not
         intended.  They are all products of the author's imagination.

         --------------------------------------------------------------

                                 THE LIFEGUARD

                                   Chapter 39


         It took a few days for the reality of the gold mine to sink
         in.  "I want to let out a war whoop whenever I think about
         it," Eric told me.  I felt very much the same way.  We
         restrained ourselves, however, with a great deal of
         difficulty.

         We both wanted to celebrate, but at the same time, we didn't
         want to broadcast the news, so we decided to wait until the
         first ore came out.  That'd give us time to plan something
         rather spectacular.

         Loren wasn't wasting any time getting things going.  He
         wanted to work from home and had put his wife to work as his
         secretary.  Within days he had all the data collected to get
         the Environmental Impact study underway and had contracted
         with a firm in Texas to get it done, promising them a bonus
         if they could complete it in 60 days or less.

         He was also scouting equipment for the processing plant that
         we hoped to build at the site.  "If we order all new
         equipment," he said, "It'll take a year to get, but if we
         find some used stuff that's in good shape, we can have it in
         a hurry.  I'm as anxious as you are to get this thing going."

         That was fine with us.  He knew what he was doing.

         A few days later, Carol buzzed me about a call I had from a
         George Mattison.  Didn't ring a bell until she said "Big
         George from Texas."  I knew who that was!

         "Howdy there, Dave," he drawled.  I knew damned well he could
         speak without any trace of an accent, but hell, that was good
         'ol folksy Big George.

         "Hear one'a mah outfits is doin a little job for ya," he
         continued.

         "What's that?" I asked.

         "Oh, some 'ol EIR over in Arizona."  Now, he got serious and
         the accent disappeared.  "Don't worry, we don't talk.  If we
         did, we wouldn't stay in business long.  But when a
         rush-rush, hush-hush job comes along, my boys let me know
         about it.  You gonna tell me what you got going?"

         I liked and trusted Big George, so I gave him the facts.  "We
         think we've found a pretty good sized gold deposit," I told
         him.  "We don't know for sure, but we're anxious to find out."

         "I'll kick my boys' asses," he promised.  "From what they
         tell me, they should have it done in four or five weeks."

         "We'd appreciate that," I told him.

         "Claire's havin' another one'a them hoedowns in a couple'a
         weeks for it gets too hot down here, and she wants you and
         your young feller to come on down."

         "Sounds like fun," I told him.

         "She says you got a couple'a daughters, and wants you to
         bring them too, no, she insisted on it."

         "I'll try," I promised.

         He gave me all the details, and we had a nice conversation
         about things in general.

         Eric came in a few minutes after I hung up.  I told him about
         the call, then told him "Better get out your dancin' shoes,
         big fella, Claire's having another hoedown, and we're
         invited.  Wanna go?  We're supposed to take Annie and Tina,
         too."

         "Under one condition," he answered, his eyes twinkling.

         "What's that?"

         "You've got to learn how to Square Dance."

         "Oh shit," I groaned, "now you want to torture me.  I didn't
         think you were into S&M."

         He went into a fit of giggles.  "You'll have fun if you let
         yourself," he promised.

         When we mentioned the party to Annie and Tina, they were
         eager to go, but both wanted to know if they could bring a
         "friend".  I knew Tina's escort would be her Architect Rick,
         but Annie was still being mysterious.

         "We all have to be able to Square Dance," Eric announced.

         Tina's eyes lit up, but Annie had the same reaction that I'd
         had.

         "I'm serious," Eric told us.  "I've already talked to an
         instructor and we're all going to take lessons.  Bring Rick
         over, Tina, and we'll all learn together."

         "I suppose you're already an expert," Annie snarled.

         "Did I hear 'Square Dancing'?" Mary asked as she served our
         dessert.

         "Sure did," Eric said.  "We're all going to learn."

         "Maybe we can help you out," she said.  "Sam's a Caller and
         I've taught before. Our grandson Todd usually works with us.
         Want us to teach you?"

         "I'm not into pain!" Annie whined.

         "It's easy," Mary said.  "You don't even need to have good
         rhythm, just follow the Caller's instructions.  When do you
         want to start?"

         A date was set.  I couldn't believe I'd been roped into
         this.  I gave Eric the hardest glare I could which made him
         start giggling again.

         "I'm gonna get you for this," I promised him.

                                   - - - - -

         When Eric had moved in with me, he'd brought his exercise
         equipment and installed it in the rooms next to our bedroom.
         Originally it had consisted of a padded bench, barbells,
         dumbells and a pile of weight plates.  Those were gone, now,
         replaced with a rather large all-in-one machine.

         He was by no means a workout freak, explaining that he was on
         a "maintenance" program.  He was one of those rare
         individuals who had a natural body that had only required a
         little work to develop perfect definition, and he had no
         interest in "bulking up", something I totally agreed with.
         Why try to improve on perfection was my attitude.

         "If I bulk up," he'd said, "when I get older it'll sag unless
         I spend half my waking hours working out, and I don't plan to
         ever have time for that!  There're too many other things to
         do that're a helluva lot more fun."

         When he'd gotten the machine, he'd explained that it would
         permit him to get a full body workout in a shorter time.  At
         that time, I couldn't resist pointing out that there were a
         few parts of his body that the machine didn't exercise, but
         I'd gladly help him out with those.

         I have a personal rule about privacy.  At no time do I ever
         invade another person's "space".  Hell, I've never seen the
         inside of Tina's rooms, and Annie's only once when she
         dragged me in.  Eric's "study" and "gym" got the same
         treatment.  I never entered unless invited, and ignored
         "open" invitations.

         At first, he was uncomfortable with this, but he grew to
         learn that I was merely showing him the respect I felt he
         deserved.  We were able to laugh about it now, but my policy
         didn't change.

         Eric had never tried to "change" me, to get me to work out
         with him, or get involved in his routine.  "Wanna keep me
         company?" was as close as he'd come.

         I'd never seen the inside of a gym, the exercise I got was
         from swimming and there was no regimen involved.  Over the
         years, it'd worked pretty well, no pot gut, and I had lots of
         energy.

         Frequently, I'd taken him up on his invitation to keep him
         company, watching his muscles flex and strain while he went
         through his routine.  His routine was intense and he'd work
         up a sweat in a hurry, making his body glisten.  Since I'm
         not particularly turned on by sweat, the visual effect was
         great, but I wasn't particularly aroused or anxious to jump
         his bones.  All pumped up, and after a shower was a different
         matter, however.

         A few months ago when I'd accepted his invitation, he'd
         sensed my vulnerability to suggestion and asked if I'd like
         to give it a try.  He promised to lower the tension, and lead
         me through a short routine.  Not surprisingly, he'd read me
         right, and I agreed to try it out.

         Even though he set the resistance at less than half of what
         he used, it was still a strain for me.  If I'd been with
         anybody else, I'd have been embarassed. Eric was not only
         helpful but understanding.

         "You've got a swimmer's build, he commented, and you look
         great.  But," he continued, "if you do this on a fairly
         regular basis, you'll notice how much more energy you'll
         have."

         "Do I need more?" I asked, leering.

         "Definitely not in THAT department, but I think you'll feel
         better in general."

         One effect the short workout had on me was a noticeable
         increase in libido.  After a shower, we were both ready for a
         major romp.

         The next day, I was sore as hell, and, as usual, bitched and
         complained a lot.  No sympathy whatsoever.  "That just means
         that you made a little progress," he told me.

         I wasn't sure whether I wanted to put myself through this on
         a regular basis.  Afterall, Eric WAS 20 years younger!  Let
         him do it.

         Once he'd gotten me to try it, he went on a Crusade,
         playfully cajoling me to join him again and again.

         I weakened, rationalizing that the torture was for my own
         good.  After only a few more sessions, the pain diminished
         and I found myself looking forward to them.  In a month, I
         noticed a marked difference.  I did have more energy, and my
         shirts fit a bit tighter and my pants were a lot looser.

         Eric was happy as a little kid that he'd been able to "give"
         me something I liked, and definitely spurred me on by
         commenting that I was getting sexier all the time.

         It became routine, I would join him two or three times a
         week, and felt better than I had in years.

         It also had a positive effect on our sex life, not that it
         had been anything to complain about before.  No increase in
         frequency, but in intensity.  Since day one, we'd made love
         on almost a daily basis, skipping, by mutual unspoken
         agreement when we just felt like holding each other.

         My stamina had increased, and Eric matched me.  We weren't
         necessarily more athletic in our couplings, but instead of
         rolling over and going to sleep after one giant orgasm, we
         went for seconds, and occasionally, thirds.  There was one
         thing that didn't change, the love and tenderness that was
         the focus of our lovemaking.

         My point was proven again, it GETS BETTER as time goes on.

                                   - - - - -

         After dinner that evening, even with the goddamed dance
         lessons looming, we spent our hour or so in the gym.  After a
         shower, we weren't ready to go to bed so we threw on shorts
         and went out on the deck to enjoy the cool evening.

         I stretched out on a chaise, and instead of taking the one
         next to me, Eric straddled my legs and sat facing me.  "I
         know you're pissed about the dancing thing," he said,
         reaching up to play with my nipples.

         "Goddamit," I said, trying to be serious, "how the hell do
         you expect me to stay pissed when you're doing that?"

         He ignored me, and continued tweaking.  "Is it that you just
         don't like dancing, or is it some sort of hangup?"

         "If you really want to know, you're going to have to stop
         that," I told him, moving his hands off my chest.  He let
         them rest on the lounge along my sides.

         Now I could concentrate.  "Why do you always find my weak
         spots and work on them so unmercifully?"  I asked.

         He leaned forward and gave me a peck on the lips.  "Because I
         love you," he said, "and I've gotten to know you rather
         well," he giggled. "There's no way I'm going to let you sit
         on the sidelines and watch me have fun.  I want you to have
         fun too."

         "But you're good at it, I'm not."

         "How do you know?  Ever tried?"

         "A long time ago and it was a disaster.  I'm no good at it,
         and I'm not in the habit of making a fool of myself."

         "A little ego thing?"

         "In a way, I guess," I told him, "I try to avoid things that
         I don't do well, and this is definitely one of them.  I have
         an image to uphold!"

         "Not with me, you don't," he laughed.  "I got ya for better
         or worse."

         "If it were just you and me, that'd be different, but other
         people are involved."

         "Since when did you start caring about what other people
         thought?  That's bullshit and you know it."

         He was right, but I wasn't about to admit it, yet.  He knew
         me too well, which, in a way was kind of frightening.  When
         I'd put up a barrier, he'd somehow knock it down, something
         I'd never permitted another human to do in my entire life.
         Bit by bit, he was stripping me bare, clear to the core.

         Most of the issues themselves were inconsequential, but the
         fact that he found them and brought them to light made me
         uncomfortable.  It was scary to me to let anyone get so
         deeply into me.  But, I loved him all the more because he
         made the effort.  I fought, sure, but he was relentless, and
         admittedly, in the end, I felt better for it.

         "OK," I admitted, "I can stand just about anything but being
         laughed at."

         "I can't imagine that happening!" he said.

         "You weren't in my Dance Class when I was about 12 years old."

         "Traumatic, huh?  Tell me about it."

         "My Mother thought it appropriate that I join all the other
         kids about my age in learning how to dance.  She said it
         would be 'confidence building'.  Boy was she ever wrong.  I
         went, basically because I had to, but liked the idea of being
         hot on the dance floor.

         "It was the early 60's and Rock was in, Bill Haley, Fats
         Domino, and Little Richard were the rage.  Our teacher wasn't
         too hip, coming from the 'jitterbug' era, so taught us a
         bastardized version of that.  I tried, but I couldn't ever
         get in sync with the beat.  At one session, all the other
         kids stopped dancing to watch me in action, laughing their
         heads off.  That was my last attempt at dancing.  I can
         follow a line dance enough to keep up, but you wouldn't
         believe how difficult it is for me."

         "Kids are mean little fuckers," he said.  "I can see why you
         never tried again."

         "That wasn't all," I told him, chuckling.  "There was slow
         dancing, too.  The partner that was picked out for me was a
         girl a couple of years older and a foot taller.  She also had
         the worst case of B.O. I've ever experienced, and here I was
         with my nose stuck in her armpit."

         Eric erupted in laughter.  I joined him.

         "Maybe if I hadn't been holding my breath all the time, I'd
         have been able to follow the music."

         "You poor guy!  I promise you this won't be anything like
         that."

         "I'll give it a try," I promised, giving in to him as usual.
         If he only knew how he had me wrapped around his little
         finger!

         When we stopped laughing, his hands were back on my chest
         doing their magic.  I didn't protest.  Soon, he was lying on
         top of me, his tongue everywhere.  It was time for the
         bedroom.

                                       - - - - -

         Our love life certainly wasn't routine, and neither was the
         rest of our lives.  About the only constant was that we went
         to the office most weekdays, and even that was far from
         absolute.  I was a master delegater, letting someone else
         handle the day-to-day headaches, and Eric was learning fast.

         Nancy, my secretary, kept a calendar for both of us.  It was
         only as good as the information we gave her, and we were
         pretty sloppy about it. I was filling her in on upcoming
         commitments when I noticed that there was a conflict.  April
         12th, our Anniversary was the same day as Claire's hoedown.

         I asked Eric what he wanted to do.  "I don't know of any
         parties planned," he said.  "Let's go to Claire's party, but
         not tell anyone it's a special occasion."

         "You really got to me last year," I told him.  "That was one
         of the most emotional nights of my life."

         "I can't wait for our 50th," he said, taking me into his arms.

                                        - - - - -

         Jeff had set up a meeting with Bill, Eric and me.  My first
         impression was that he was so excited he looked ready to
         explode.

         "We're through with the small meetings with my managers," he
         said, "next, I'd like to get them all together sometime in
         June.  Will all of you be available?"  We nodded.

         "I don't know if you've seen the latest sales figures, but
         we're taking over the market with the new computer cases.
         We've got over a fifty percent market share, and we're
         turning down orders because we just don't have any more
         capacity.  That's a problem."

         "A nice problem to have!" Eric commented.

         "The question now is," Jeff continued, "whether we grow to
         meet demand, or if we let our competitors get their foot in
         the door."

         "I'll give you the answer to that," Bill said.  "We grow.
         Metalco has never backed off before, and we're not going to
         set a precedent here.  What do you need?"

         "Over the next year, we could use eight new plants, producing
         only that one item, particularly on the West Coast.  That
         would allow us to give the rest of our plants a little
         slack.  This seven day a week schedule is getting a little
         old."

         "Can we build them and get them on-line that fast?" I asked.

         "If we build, no.  If we buy existing buildings and move in
         equiment, we can."

         "I suppose you already have them picked out," I chuckled.

         "As a matter of fact, I do," Jeff answered, with a big grin.
         "Four on the West Coast - Seattle, the San Francisco area,
         Los Angeles and Sacramento.  One in St. Louis, two in the
         Northeast and one in Georgia."

         "You've looked at buildings too?" I asked.

         "Everything we need's available, buy or lease."

         "How about equipment?" I asked, knowing what the answer would
         be.

         "The orders are ready for signature," he predictably answered.

         "How much are we talking about, if we buy the buildings?" I
         asked.

         "Around a billion one," he said, meaning a billion, one
         hundred million.

         Turning to Bill, I asked "Can we handle that?"

         "Over a year, no problem," he said.  "Unless you decide to
         buy another railroad."

         Then, Jeff threw in the clincher.  "We project a three year
         payback."

         "Optomistic or realistic?" Eric asked.

         "Realistic," Jeff answered.  "I predict we'll be looking at
         even more expansion before these are even up and running."

         "Where do I sign?" I asked, watching the expression on Jeff's
         face.  I'm pretty sure he wasn't prepared for a decision that
         fast.

         On the way home, I told Eric "Thank you."

         "For what?"

         "Finding Jeff for us."

         "Warren ain't too shabby either," he said.

         "I think we put them in the right slots."

         "I don't know if it's a slot, but I have something I NEED you
         to put something into.  Power!"

         "That's as good an excuse as any," I told him, laughing.

         By the time we got down to it, Eric was so hot he just about
         shot while I was loosening him up.  I had to back off and
         slow down.

         Even that wasn't too successful.  As soon as I bottomed out
         and gave him a few strokes, he stiffened and shot a quart of
         cum all over himself.  That was only the beginning, however.
         Once he settled down, we continued.  Long, slow strokes had
         him on the edge again in no time.  The clenching of his
         muscles around my dick just about put me away too, but I
         managed to hold on.  We both wanted more, and we got it.  On
         his third explosion I was powerless to hold back.  With our
         lips locked we rocketed into another world.

         I couldn't understand his reaction to this "power" thing, but
         I sure as hell wasn't complaining.

                                   - - - - -

         I wondered if Joel was ready for this kind of growth.  I knew
         he was expanding, but we were dependent on him for matching
         monitors.  I gave him a call to find out where he stood.
         Instead of going over the details on the phone, he suggested
         that we get together and talk.

         "When?" I asked.

         "The sooner the better.  Why don't you guys come to Tucson
         this Friday and let us return a little of your hospitality."

         "Can't promise until I talk with Eric, but I think that'll be
         fine."

         Joel and Aaron lived in a home on the outskirts of Tucson.
         It was more of a sculpture than a "house".  Built of Redwood
         and stone with sweeping views, it was cantalevered out over a
         cliff, even the pool was in midair.  It was spectacular.

         Beautifully decorated, using a lot of Native American art, it
         was warm and comfortable.

         Seated with drinks in hand, Joel's first comment was "What in
         the hell are you guys going to do with a Railroad?"

         Laughing, Eric told them the whole story - except anything
         about the mining venture.  That'd come later.

         Talk turned to computers.  Joel had doubled his capacity, and
         construction was underway to re-double, which, he felt would
         bring him into line with our current production level.  "I'm
         running so far behind right now," he said, "and now you're
         telling me that you're going to build more CPU's.  How many
         more?"

         "Over the next year, we're going to double production," I
         told him.

         "And you expect me to keep up with you, right?"

         "We're hoping you will," I told him.

         "We can, but I'm not sure I want to.  What happens if the
         balloon bursts?"

         "We're betting more than a billion that it won't," I said.

         "You're diversified," Joel continued, "if the market
         collapses, you can switch your plants to other products, I
         can't.  I'm a one-product company."

         "Have you considered branching out?  Printers, scanners.
         They'll be the next wave," Eric suggested.

         "Oh Christ," he groaned, "more headaches.  Don't you guys
         ever stop?"

         "Nope," Eric said.  "You wouldn't even believe some of the
         stuff we're working on."

         "I can only imagine," Joel groaned.

         "I want you with us, Joel," I told him, "but I'm not going to
         pressure you into doing something you don't want to do.  You
         understand our position, I'm sure, we're going to need your
         product, and I'm sure we can find some middle ground that'll
         work for both of us."

         From experience, I knew that Joel thoroughly considered
         anything before coming to a decision, so let the matter drop
         for the time being.

         Eric and Aaron got into comparing notes on College.  Joel and
         I sat by proudly watching.

         "How old do you think Joel is?" Eric asked as we were getting
         into bed.

         "I'd guess mid thirties," I said, "Why?"

         "He sure is conservative."

         "I dont see him that way," I argued.  "He just doesn't make
         snap decisions.  He's got a good thing going and doesn't want
         to jeopardize it.  Actually, I kind of admire him."

         "I also know how much we need him."

         "Yes, we do.  If our customers can't get monitors that match,
         we're not going to sell CPU's.  I don't want to go to
         somebody else, but we'll have to if he can't supply us.  I
         don't have to tell him that, he already knows it, nothing
         personl, strictly business.

         "Joel's also a very proud man, and won't accept any help
         except on his own terms."

         "That's a subject I know all too well!" Eric said smiling.
         "I grew up, though."

         "I think, between us, that we'll come up with a solution.  If
         we don't, though, and this is something I don't really want
         to do, we're going to go into the monitor, printer and
         scanner business.  From our standpoint now, it's too bad we
         didn't do that in the first place."

         "Joel's not really in the manufacturing business, is he?
         Isn't it more assembly of components he buys from others?"

         "I think that's it.  I don't think he actually 'makes' any of
         the parts," I said.

         "Then he doesn't have the huge investment in heavy equipment
         that we do.  Setting up to do that can't be that expensive."

         "It wouldn't be to us, but he may see it differently."

         "What's our legal position?" he asked.

         "He's got an exclusive as long as he can meet market
         requirements, if he can't we have the option of going
         elsewhere.  We own all the rights to the new designs however
         they're used."

         "We could, then, literally pull the rug out from under him?"

         "That's about it, but I don't want to do that.  It'd be a
         last resort."

                                    - - - - -

         When we came downstairs in the morning, Aaron was cooking
         breakfast, looking mighty chipper.

         "You assholes," he kidded, "Joel was up all night working,
         and I didn't get any.  It's all your fault."

         "Sorry about that," Eric kidded back. "Unfortunately, you'd
         better get used to it.  Business does get in the way
         sometimes, but think of all the fun you'll have getting
         caught up."

         Joel wandered into the kitchen looking like he really had
         been up all night.  "You cause me to lose more sleep..." he
         said, looking straight at me.

         "I don't need a decision today," I protested.

         "But you'd like one, admit it," he laughed.

         "Sure, it'd be nice," I told him.

         We sat down at the table.  Looking me straight in the eye, he
         continued. "I'm in.  Not only more Monitors, but printers and
         scanners too.  Deal?"

         I rose to shake his hand.  "Deal," I said.  "You're not going
         to regret it."

         "Hey Aaron, drag out some Champagne.  We're going to
         celebrate.  I'll probably go to sleep on you, but what the
         hell."

         Over toasts to our growing relationship, I kidded Joel
         "You're too damned easy, but I'll bet Aaron already knows
         that."

         Joel and Aaron exchanged glances then burst into laughter.
         "God, is he EVER!" Aaron giggled.

         "Seriously," Joel mused, "less than a year ago when you
         showed up on my doorstep, Dave, I had no idea what was going
         to happen.  That meeting and what's happened since," he
         glanced at Aaron to make his point, "has changed my life."

         After Joel napped for a couple of hours, we talked about
         details.  He would have preferred to keep all his operations
         in Tucson, but realized that a Northeastern location would
         save him a lot of freight.

         "I'm not very creative, and neither is my staff.  Can you
         give us a little help on printer and scanner design?" he
         asked.

         "No problem, no charge," I assured him.  "If you'll give us
         the parameters, we'll design cases that'll fit with
         production of them in mind.  If we can make the parts more
         efficiently, we can save you some money on them."

         I had to smile.  "I don't think any of our people even gave
         any thought to this.  I don't know where we're going to have
         space to make them.  Guess we'll have to build another plant
         just to supply you."

         "What's another hundred million?" Joel snickered.

         The same Asian company that made his flat screens also
         produced a line of printers, and he already had talked to
         another company about scanner components.  I'm pretty sure he
         had anticipated our move.

         "I can handle most everything by phone and fax," Joel said,
         "but we're going to have to make a trip over there pretty
         soon."

         "Can we go too?" Eric asked in a little boy voice.  "We won't
         get in the way."

         Joel laughed.  "Would you guys really like to go along?  I
         definitely plan on taking Aaron."

         Eric looked at me, I nodded.  "We've got a new long-range jet
         on order, and will be getting it in a couple of months," Eric
         said.  "Maybe we could break it in."

         "Don't you already have your own airline?" Joel asked.

         "Only two planes," I chuckled.  "Wait'll you see this new
         baby, puts the old ones to shame."

                                   - - - - -

         On Monday, I called Jeff in.  "We forgot something," I told
         him.

         "What's that?" he asked, alarmed.

         "The Monitors, printers and scanners to go with our CPU
         cases."

         "I thought Metalco made the components for those," he said.

         "They are, for the moment, but that's a Milton product.
         Metalco needs that machine time.  Joel Robinson makes the
         monitors and he's going to gear up to handle the increased
         production we're planning, and he's also going to turn out a
         line of printers and scanners to match."

         "Milton doesn't have any spare capacity, you know that."

         "Then build some.  Joel's going to be building at least one
         more plant.  I don't know where, yet, but it might be a good
         idea if we set up close to him.  He's also going to need some
         design help for the printers and monitors.  We have the
         people to handle that for him.  We can design them so they're
         easy to make and save both of us a few bucks."

         "Should I go to Tucson?"

         "Not yet, he only decided to expand over the weekend.  Give
         him a few weeks to get his plans together.  Oh, and one other
         thing, Jeff, can you find out what Metalco's margin
         percentage is on the stuff we sell to Joel?"

         "That's easy enough to find out," he said.

         "When you do, I want all new business with Joel to reflect a
         50% reduction in our profit margin, and that goes for the new
         stuff too."

         Jeff whistled.  "That's one hell of a sweetheart deal!"

         I smiled.  "Joel's a little guy, and he's going way out on a
         limb for us.  Let's make it easy for him for a while.  Oh,
         and 180 day terms on everything."

         By the end of the week, I heard from Joel.  "What the hell's
         going on," he yelled.

         "Relax and enjoy it, stud," I told him.

         "Not only are my prices cut 20%, but the terms are 180.  Why?"

         "Don't worry, we're still making money.  I just thought we'd
         cut you a little slack.  Look out, though, we may sock it to
         you later!"

         "You asshole," he murmured.  "You didn't have to do this, but
         it sure is going to help."

         "No problem."

         "Thank you, Dave."

                                   - - - - -

         The Square Dance lessons weren't as bad as I'd feared.  It
         helped a lot that our teachers were patient.  The first step
         was to learn what the Caller's instructions meant.  Mary and
         Todd demonstrated.  God there were a lot of different moves
         to remember!  Performed separately, they  didn't make much
         sense, but when put together, they did.

         Eric had been right.  Mary and Sam's grandson Todd was a
         knockout, but oh so shy.

         Eric, of course, knew what he was doing, so did Tina.  That
         left Annie, Rick and me to learn the basics.  Annie wasn't any
         happier about doing it than I was, and when she got nasty
         about it, I pulled her off to one side and told her that if I
         had to endure this, she did too, and we'd both be better off
         if we quit fighting it.  She grinned and got into it.

         It was like school.  So much to remember and no time to take
         notes. I concentrated.

         "That wasn't so bad, was it?" Eric asked when the session was
         finally over.

         There was no way I was going to admit that I'd enjoyed it
         even though, surprisingly, I had.  The awkwardness and lack
         of coordination I'd experienced at age 12 was not there any
         more, thank God.

         Annie was honest.  "That was fun," she admitted.

         "A couple more lessons and all the moves'll become
         automatic," Todd said, the first time he'd spoken all
         evening.  Mary beamed.

         "You're a natural," Eric told me when we were alone.  "Why
         did you feed me that bullshit about not having any rhythm?"

         "It wasn't as hard as I expected," I admitted.  "It was fun.
         OK, I had a good time.  Are you satisfied now?"

         "No," he giggled.

         The lessons continued, the moves and combinations got more
         complicated, but I kept up, surprising myself.  Todd was
         right, they did become automatic.

         Eric was pleased, and that made me happy.  My whole effort
         had been to please him.  He asked very little of me, and I
         made a decision not to fight him the next time he wanted me
         to try something new.

                                   - - - - -

         "What's everybody got planned for this weekend?" Annie asked
         us during dinner.

         I glanced at Eric, he shrugged.  "Nothing, I guess.  Why?" I
         asked.

         "I'm having company," she answered.

         "Aha!  We finally get to meet the mystery man.  Do we have to
         be on our best behavior?"

         "Not really," she said seriously.  "The only time you guys
         embarass me is when you do it intentionally."

         "OK, give.  Tell us about him so we'll know what to expect,"
         I asked.

         "Andy's just a nice guy.  I'm sure you're going to like him."

         "Does he know about 'us'," Eric asked, nodding toward me.

         "Oh yeah," Annie responded, "No problem, and none with his
         family either.  I made damned sure of that."

         "What've you got planned?" I asked.

         "He's getting in Friday afternoon.  I thought we could all
         have dinner here, then Tina, Rick and I are going to take him
         out.  We'll play it by ear from there."

         It didn't surprise me a bit when Eric called Sarah for
         details.  He was as protective of my girls as I was.

         "Sarah wouldn't say much," he reported, "just that he was a
         nice boy from a good family, and that she approved of him.
         That's good enough for me."

         "I think Sarah's adopted all of you guys - you, Annie, and
         Tina too."

         "She doesn't have any children herself, you know."

         "No, I didn't know that."

         "I think she's made us her 'project'.  Personally, I love it."

         "I hope all of you know how lucky you are.  She's a very
         remarkable lady and we can all learn a lot from her."

         "It's a lot more than that.  She's become kind of a second
         Mother to all of us.  She cares.  In fact, Annie has told me
         that she wishes Sarah was her real mother."

         "Speaking of Georgia," I said.  "I wonder what she's up to.
         Haven't heard anything about her since last Thanksgiving."

         "Personally, I think that's a good thing."

                                   - - - - -

         Andy had already arrived when Eric and I got home from work.
         Before meeting him, we got out of our work clothes, but
         dressed semi-formal - long pants instead of our usual shorts.

         We found them out on the deck, Andy in coat and tie.
         Introductions were performed, he had a nice firm handshake,
         then Gabriella brought us drinks.

         To say that the atmosphere was tense is an understatement.
         Poor Andy, wanting to make a good impression, was as nervous
         as a whore in church.  I understood, hell, I'd damned near
         crapped my pants when I went to meet Eric's parents the first
         time, and I'm an old fart, not a young swain.

         Annie got things going by saing that this was Andy's first
         trip to California.

         "And you're letting the poor guy sweat with a coat and tie?"
         I asked.  "We're laid-back here, don't even wear 'em to
         work.  C'mon Andy, get comfortable."

         He wasted no time losing the coat and tie.  When he stood,
         Eric and I had a good opportunity to size him up.  Nice
         shoulders, narrow hips and a cute butt.  I'd already noticed
         his boy-next-door good looks.

         "That feels much better, Mr. Rush," he said.

         "I'd appreciate if you'd call me Dave, Andy," I told him.

         I'm not particularly good at making people comfortable,
         particularly not when I know absolutely nothing about them.
         I wished that Annie had given us a little background so I
         could find some common interests.  I certainly wasn't into
         the "Where are you from," "What do you do," type of
         interrogation.

         Eric got things rolling by mentioning the party in Dallas a
         few weeks down the road.  That broke the ice and it was
         easier from then on.  The tension gradually dissolved, and
         before we went in to dinner, we were all laughing and joking
         like old friends.

         I quickly got the impression that Andy had lived a rather
         sheltered life, worldly in that he'd traveled a bit, but not
         too familiar with everyday people.  Annie, down to earth as
         she was, would change that in a hurry if he stuck around.

         He was totally fascinated with Eric's earlier career as a
         Lifeguard, and got rather wide-eyed at some of the stories
         Eric told him about life at the beach.

         Tina and Rick had kept their distance, allowing us to get
         acquainted.  They showed up after dinner and the four of them
         took off.

         "Well, what do you think?" Eric asked.

         "I like him," I said.  "He sure doesn't talk about himself
         much, though."

         "I noticed that too," he said.  "He isn't anything like I
         expected.  So formal and serious, nothing like Annie, but I
         like him too."

         Saturday morning, I was sitting on the deck, reading the
         paper and having my morning coffee.  Andy came out and
         politely asked if he could join me.

         "I believe I owe you an apology for yesterday," he said.

         "Why?" I asked.

         "I assumed that Annie had told you all about me.  Last night
         I found out differently."

         "Never assume anything with that girl," I chuckled.

         "I'm learning," he said, then gave me a full biography on
         himself.

         Eastern aristocrat.  Choate, Harvard, ending up with an
         M.B.A, and currently working in his family's brokerage firm
         on Wall Street, a name I recognized. "I started at the bottom
         three years ago and am working my way up," he said.

         "I started on the shop floor at Metalco myself," I told him.
         "It's a bitch and you hate it, but it'll really pay dividends
         later."

         "I accept that, but I don't have to like it," he grinned,
         showing off his winning smile.

         At about that time Eric Joined us.  "Am I interrupting?" he
         asked.

         "Not a bit," I told him.

         "Hey Andy, how about a swim?  The pool's heated?" Eric
         asked.  How about you, Babe?"

         "Go ahead, I'm not finished with the paper."

         Annie soon joined them, and I just watched.  Eric left them to
         themselves, and that's about all we saw of Andy during the
         rest of his stay.  Annie kept him busy.

                                   - - - - -

         Sunday, Eric got a call from Greg at Micron.  All four of
         them would be arriving Monday, and they begged him to meet
         with them.  According to Eric, Greg sounded desperate, but
         wouldn't tell him why.

                                    - - - - -

         To be continued.


         AUTHOR'S NOTE:  I appreciate hearing your comments on the
         story, my writing, and anything you would like to offer -
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