Streak - 46. Chapter 46

December 25, 2002

Bridgemont, UK

Wade

“Merry Christmas,” Matt said, even as he collapsed on top of me, panting from our morning orgasm. I was trying to imagine how he could possibly make sex any better, and I just couldn’t. “What?” he asked, since I’d been spacing out on him.

“I was just trying to think of how we could make sex more fun,” I teased, even though he didn’t get that yet.

“How?” he asked in a frustrated way, worried that there was something wrong.

“Couldn’t come up with anything,” I said to him with a smile, getting a big grin back from him.

“You know, this is the first Christmas since we’ve been back together,” he said. Then he got a guilty look on his face. “I really am sorry about last year.” He was referring to Christmas Eve, when he’d all but assaulted me.

“Knock it off,” I said firmly, and a bit loudly, especially for me.

“What?”

“We put the guilt behind us, remember?” I asked. I didn’t want to go back and relive the end of last year, and he didn’t either.

“I remember,” he said. He lay back, smiling, then the next think I knew, he was snoring softly. I chuckled, remembering one of our bawdier Thanksgiving conversations, when Mary Ellen kept complaining about men who fell asleep right after they blew their loads.

I got out of bed quietly so as not to disturb him, then went through my morning routine. I was moving fast today; I looked at the clock as I finished tying my tie and I’d gotten done in only 47 minutes. I went down to the kitchen, feeling my bottomless pit of a stomach grumbling as I did. Bridgemont functioned much as Goodwell did on Christmas, with a relatively informal breakfast, followed by a large dinner in the afternoon. I’d just finished my breakfast when Alex, Nana, Mary Ellen, JJ, and the Duke came in.

“You’re ready to go?” Nana asked.

“I am,” I replied.

“Didn’t think we’d get you up this early for anything, especially not for church,” Mary Ellen said to JJ. Those two had been syrupy sweet to each other, but the claws were discernible beneath that façade.

“I figured that if you go into the church and it doesn’t collapse, it’s safe for me to go,” JJ joked, only it wasn’t really a joke. I had to admire how neatly he’d done that, reminding everyone of what an advanced sinner Mary Ellen was.

“Let’s hope we’re both safe,” Mary Ellen said cheerfully. “Will Susannah be joining us there?”

JJ had spent pretty much all of his time with her since he’d met her. Alex didn’t seem put off with that at all, which surprised me a bit. “That’s the plan,” he replied.

“Matt isn’t joining us?” Nana asked.

“He is not,” I replied. I hadn’t even tried to argue with him about that. Alex drove Mary Ellen to the church, while the rest of us rode in the car with the Duke.

It was a very pleasant service, much as an Episcopalian ceremony was in the US. The church was fairly large and quite ornate in that way that ancient churches could be. Alex had told me that his ancestors had invested a goodly amount of money to build this edifice to nurture the souls of their retainers. We sat in the pews to the side, those reserved for the Duke and his family, something that seemed odd to an American.

While Susannah’s father droned on, I allowed my mind to wander and think about the people around me. It was clear to everyone that Nana and the Duke were a couple. He allowed his close friends to call him Suffolk, everyone else called him your Grace, but Nana called him Albert. They were really cute; with the way they doted on each other. I watched as they sat side by side in the pew, then caught Mary Ellen’s eye, and we both smiled at Nana’s romance.

Mary Ellen seemed very happy here in England. Alex said that she’d been moving around in his circles, and everyone accepted her readily. I thought to myself that the poor British aristocrats didn’t realize what a snake had just slithered into their house, but there wasn’t much I could do about it.

After the service, we wandered out, stopping to chat with people who were anxious to be seen by the Duke, and to compliment Susannah’s father on his less-than-moving Christmas sermon. “I’m going to ride back with Susannah,” JJ announced.

“That’s fine,” Mary Ellen said. “Alex, why don’t I drive Wade back? I can show him how to drive on the wrong side of the road.”

“Of course,” he said, and kissed her on the cheek. “If you aren’t back in a reasonable period of time, we will check for accidents.”

She took the keys to his Jaguar and the two of us found his car. “This takes some getting used to,” Mary Ellen said, as she climbed into the right side of the vehicle.

“I just decided to give up driving in countries that drive on the left side of the road,” I joked.

“Aren’t Nana and the Duke adorable?” she asked.

“It’s nice to see her happy,” I said. “She never really was with Grandfather.”

“That’s because he was a cheating prick,” she said.

“That’s a pretty succinct way to put it,” I said, marveling once again that I was starting to sound pretty stuffy and I’d only been here for a few days.

“I wanted to thank you for setting up the plane to bring people over for the wedding,” she said sincerely.

“This is important, and besides, it’s my job,” I said with a smile.

“I just wanted you to know that you were doing it quite well,” she said, making me chuckle.

“I have a question for you,” I said, since she seemed to be opening up and unbending a bit. She glanced at me briefly to tell me to go on. “Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“Marrying Alex,” I said.

“To make Daddy proud of me,” she said, spouting the same rationale I’d mulled over when I’d explained things to Alex.

“I’m willing to acknowledge that’s a big part of this, but it’s not the real reason,” I stated, which was a pretty good guess on my part.

She nodded, and seemed to be trying to decide whether to tell me the truth. “I’m doing this to get my freedom, and to get a fresh start.”

“Your freedom?” I asked, tackling the first of those reasons. “Marriage usually involves more commitments, not fewer.”

“Not this one,” she said. “Alex is actually so easy to deal with. All I have to do to make him happy is not embarrass him, be supportive, give him babies, and bring a chunk of cash to the table so he can save that huge house and a bunch of paintings.”

“I can see that.”

“I worked out a deal with Nana to let me have control of $50 million of my own money, in addition to the money she set aside for my dowry. That gives me true independence for the first time. I don’t have to go hat in hand to her, Mother, or anyone to do what I want,” Mary Ellen said. I cringed internally at this deal Nana had made. Mary Ellen with $50 million would be almost impossible to control. That train of thought had made me seem like my mother, so I moved the conversation ahead.

“So the only person you’re really accountable to is Alex,” I concluded.

“More or less,” she said with an almost sinister smile. “Like I said, my duty with him is pretty easy, and pretty clear. He’s a very nice guy, and it won’t take much effort to keep him happy.”

I nodded, even as I thought about that. My mother was almost unbearable to deal with when she had something to hold over your head, and she’d been able to do that with Mary Ellen for her entire life. This must truly be emancipating for Mary Ellen. And she figured that Alex was a lot easier to control than Mother or Nana, or maybe even me. She was probably right. “How is this a new start?”

She shifted gears to deal with this second reason. “I’ve got a shit reputation in Virginia,” she grumbled.

“I don’t think it’s limited to Virginia,” I teased.

“Asshole,” she said in a playful way. “You don’t ever go out in public with Mother, so you don’t know what it’s like.”

“What do you mean?” I didn’t get what she was talking about.

“Everyone knows about that land deal, and they know there was a major push to let her off the hook. And she used that same power to get out of the deal with Nana.”

“And Nana being civil to her has helped,” I augmented. Nana had insisted that Mother be included in family events, because she was a traditionalist, but that had given the appearance that Nana had forgiven Mother, something she had not done.

“When people look at her, it is with fearful scorn,” she said, shaking her head in disgust. “They find her despicable, but useful, and a little scary.”

“That’s pretty much my feeling,” I said, getting a chuckle from her.

“You set yourself up to be her big opponent, and that let you come out of this whole thing smelling like a rose,” she said, not a little bitterly. “Beau is young and uninvolved, so he gets a pass. And it helps both of you that you’re men. But I’m the daughter, the one who people snipe at behind my back, saying I’m just like her.”

“You’re evil, but you’re not just like her,” I said, which made her laugh, even as she appreciated the compliment.

“By coming over here, and marrying Alex, I’m no longer Mary Ellen Danfield; the biggest bitch in Virginia, as long as Mother isn’t there.” We paused to laugh about that. “I’m Mary Ellen Granger, Countess of Bridgemont.”

“That makes sense,” I said. “Thanks for explaining it to me.”

“My pleasure,” she said.

“What are you going to do about JJ?” I asked, broaching the next tough topic.

“Why should I do anything about JJ?” she asked flippantly, which told me she was definitely planning something. “Look, he and Alex are cute, and he makes Alex happy. That’s going to change as soon as this baby is born, JJ just doesn’t know it yet.”

“You mean that when the baby is born, you’ll ban Alex from seeing JJ,” I said.

“No, Alex will feel the obligations of fatherhood and they will drag him away from JJ,” she corrected.

“And what if his paternal instincts are not as strong as you think?”

“Then they will require a little help,” she said. It was a beautiful plan, relying on the innate human force of fatherhood to drive JJ away, but with a backup scenario if that didn’t work. God only knew what that was, but there was no use asking. Mary Ellen would never tell me that part of it.

“I would appreciate it if you would be as gentle with him as possible,” I said, getting a frown from her. “I’m responsible for him, at least while he’s in Boston.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said.

“I’m glad you’re happy about this wedding,” I said, getting us back to our original topic. “I just wanted to make sure you’d thought this through.”

“It’s all going according to plan,” she said with a smile. More unsettling words were hard to imagine.

December 25, 2002

Escorial, CA

Will

“Merry Christmas!” Marie said to me enthusiastically as I walked into the room. At Escorial there was a prescribed time to open presents on Christmas morning: 9:30am. I was right on time, but barely. The huge grandfather clock had just finished chiming when I arrived. Zach had gotten ready five minutes faster than I had, so he sat there giving me a snarky look like he was so much better than I was. I winked at him, making us both smile just a little more brightly.

“Merry Christmas!” I said, and gave Marie a big hug. She and I had had a rough previous year, but after 9-11, we’d gotten really tight. It was pretty weird that I talked to Marie more about real shit than I did with John. This morning she was wearing her shit-disturbing expression. “What?” I asked, determined to find out what evil scheme she’d planned up.

“I was telling Grandmaman that you actually found a beat, and you were becoming an almost passable dancer,” she said, giving me shit. She had this debutante ball to go to in March, and I’d been drafted as her date. That had meant we had to take dancing lessons, which we did once a week. I thought they’d be awful, but it was actually kind of fun, and it had helped my dancing in bars as well.

“Dude, seriously?” I challenged playfully. “I have way more rhythm than you.”

“Then you will have to show us after dinner,” Grandmaman said. I’d forgotten that everyone else was listening to us, and now I was totally fucked.

“That sounds great,” I said to Grandmaman, trying to sound enthusiastic. I really thought I was putting on a good façade until Darius and Zach began laughing really loudly at me.

We started opening presents, but it was in a really calm way, so different than when I’d been a kid. It wasn’t as fun, but it was more pleasant. I usually got nice gifts, and so did everyone else, but every once in a while one of us would go a little apeshit. This year, it was my turn, or so I thought.

Marc took the small, beautifully wrapped box my father handed him and smiled up at him. “What’s this?”

“It looks like a present,” Dad said, smiling at him in that cutesy way they had. Sometimes they made me want to puke.

“You already got me a present,” he objected.

“What did he get you?” Darius asked.

Dad looked a little nervous, so that cued the rest of us to pay closer attention. “I got a condo in San Francisco. We spend time there on the weekends, and Marc goes up to the City a lot during the week. I thought it would be nice to have a base.”

“What part of the City?” I asked.

“Telegraph Hill,” he said, which made sense. It was tony, but seemed more relaxed than Russian Hill or Nob Hill.

“It’s amazing,” Marc said enthusiastically. “You’ll have to come see it!”

“I’ll bet it is,” I said, trying to share his excitement. So my father had bought them a place of their own in the City. No one said anything else about it, but I could feel my world changing with this news. I knew that from this point forward, I’d probably be seeing a lot less of my father, and I’d be spending a lot less time with him. I fought the demons that threatened to let that depress me, rationalizing that he seemed so happy with Marc, that his happiness was worth having him be gone a bit more.

“Are you going to open that present or not?” Zach teased Marc.

“Fine,” Marc said, sticking his tongue out at Zach like a little kid. He opened up the box and pulled out a set of car keys, with a distinctive Porsche logo on the remote. “You got me a set of keys to your car?”

Darius and I rolled our eyes at each other, while Dad chuckled. “No, I got you your own car.”

“You got me a Porsche?” he asked, totally shocked.

“I did,” Dad said proudly. “But you can’t go look at it until everyone opens their presents.”

“Let’s all go really slow,” I joked.

“I don’t think my paintings will fit in a Porsche,” Marc said, teasing Dad.

“They’ll fit in this one,” he replied. “It’s a Cayenne, their new SUV. Room for art, and even a passenger or two.”

“How awesome!” Marc said. “Thank you so much!” He gave Dad a monster kiss, which was cute. Everything they did together was cute. I looked at Zach and grinned. They made me feel like we were the old married couple who had been together for 20 years. “Alright, now you have to open the present I got you!”

“Nope,” I said. “We drew names. Zach is next.”

“Someone is anal retentive,” Marie said, giving me shit. I barely stopped myself from making some lewd and inappropriate comment. Zach went through and opened his presents from everyone. He got some cool stuff, but I was both excited and nervous for him to get to my gift. I made him wait to open it last.

“What is it?” he asked, as he held the box in his hand.

“So here’s how this works,” I said sarcastically. “You rip off the paper, and look inside, and then you don’t have to ask stupid questions.”

“Fine,” he said, giving me a smarmy look. He opened the box and took out a leather portfolio, and opened it up to find two credit cards and a bank statement. “Alright, now explain what this is.”

“You need to have a credit card or two in case there’s an emergency, and you need to have some money to pay them off,” I said. I was a little nervous about this, because not everyone reacted well when you handed them money, but Zach liked the fact that I was rich, so I figured it wouldn’t bother him.

He opened the bank statement and his eyes bulged. “Fifty grand?!”

“You have to buy me cool presents,” I joked. “I’m high maintenance.”

“That’s still an awful lot of money,” Clara said, trying not to freak out.

“I’m sure Zach will handle it responsibly,” Wally said. “That was a very generous gift.” We all sat there, pretty stunned at how he handled that.

“It is a very generous gift,” Zach said. He leaned in and gave me a really nice kiss. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” I said.

“This is cool, but it’s not the coolest thing I got.”

“It’s not?” I asked, trying to figure out which of his other gifts were better.

“Nope,” he said, shaking his head. “You already gave me the best gift. You surprised me by bringing my parents and Brent out here for my last game, and you set it up so Brent got a kick-ass job in LA, so he’ll be around while I’m at UCLA. That was the best present.”

“You set that up?” Brent demanded of me, getting all annoyed.

“I set up the opportunity, you made it happen,” I said. He’d have gotten the job unless he’d treated Chip Foose like a douche, but he’d been so enthusiastic, he’d hit it off with Foose and that had sealed the whole deal.

“Well thanks,” Brent said grudgingly. He wasn’t like Zach, in that he got annoyed when people did things for him. It would suck to date a guy like that, who argued with you every time you tried to do something cool for him.

“And now it’s your turn,” Zach said. He handed me a small box, but he was even more nervous than I’d been. “I really hope you like it.”

“Dude, if it’s as cool as this compass you got me for my birthday, I’ll love it,” I said, as I fingered the cool compass pendant that hung around my neck.

“You gonna open that, or what?” Darius asked, irritated at our slow pace.

I opened the box and found two rings in there. I picked up one of them, and saw that it was a Menlo ring. “You got me a class ring!” I tried to be all excited about it, because it was pretty cool, but I hadn’t really planned to get one. I looked in the box at the other one, which was identical. “Why did you get me two?”

“In case you lose one,” Darius joked.

“Look at the other one,” Zach said. And when he said that, I noticed they were different. The first one I’d picked up had my graduation year, 2004, on it. The other one was sized for a bigger finger, and had 2003 on it. I sat there, looking at both of them, trying to figure out what he’d done, when it dawned on me that the bigger ring was for him. I looked inside, and his initials had been engraved on it.

“This one is yours?” I asked him, totally confused.

“Yeah,” he said, and now he was really nervous. “If it’s OK with you, I thought I’d spend my last semester here, and graduate from Menlo.”

“If they let you in,” Marie teased.

“Already a done deal,” Zach said, and then got nervous again, because I hadn’t really said anything. I was just digesting this big news item he’d dropped on me. “If you’re OK with it,” he added.

Then I pulled my head out of my ass, thought about what this meant, and jumped on him, knocking him down, giving him a big hug. “Dude that is the absolute best present ever!”

He pulled away from me and gave me a nice kiss, and we just smiled at each other, probably looking as cute as Dad and Marc had a few minutes ago. Whatever. I didn’t give a shit. “I thought it would be cool to be here with you, and that way Frank and Isidore can move back too.”

“Then that is even more good news,” Grand said. “It has been lonely around here without your presence.” He’d directed that last statement to Grandmaman and Frank, but we knew he was mostly referring to Grandmaman.

“I have missed the drama,” Grandmaman said, cracking us up. Everyone started chatting with her and Frank, about the details of this whole move, but I ignored them and focused on Zach.

“Thank you so much. This is so awesome,” I said, and hugged him again. It was like I couldn’t let go of him. He hugged me back just as tightly.

“I figured you’d think so,” he said.

“You were right,” I said. I looked over at John and got an evil grin. “There’s this cocky sophomore kid that goes to Menlo. You can help me kick his ass.”

“As if,” John said, cracking us up. “All you can do is dance and surf.”

“That’s not all I’m good at,” I said with a leer, and managed to embarrass Zach enough that he blushed, and I annoyed Darius at the same time by making him think of man sex. Pretty much a big win for me.

“And now you have to open the present I got you,” Marc said to me, and then turned to Zach. “Give me a hand.”

“Sure,” he said. They vanished from the room and returned, carrying two large packages. It didn’t take a lot to figure out that they were probably paintings he’d made.

“This one is for you,” Marc said, and handed me one of the packages.

“Cool,” I said, and carefully tore the paper off. It was one of his paintings, about three feet by five feet, and really unique. There was a diagonal strip dividing the painting in two, and the diagonal strip had been created by his grinding technique, making it seem like a pretty dramatic divide. The top left part of the painting was a bluish green, and had subtle lines that were horizontal. The bottom right part was a different shade of bluish green, and had subtle lines that were vertical. Where they met, at the great divide, was really intense, because the colors intersected with the divide in a way that almost looked like crashing waves. “Dude, this is beautiful!”

“I’m glad you like it,” Marc said. “This one is for you,” he said, handing a similar package to my father.

He opened his up and it was almost identical to my painting, only the shades had been reversed, so the vertical lines were on the top left of his, and the horizontal lines were on the bottom right. “I think mine is nicer,” he joked, since they were damn near the same.

“Not even,” I said, shaking my head.

“Don’t you artist dudes always have some symbolism in your work?” Darius asked. “Not that I don’t get enough of that in Lit class.”

“What do you see?” Marc asked me.

Marie stood up and looked at the pictures and shook her head. “This is easy.”

“Oh yeah? Well enlighten us, Starfish,” I said, using the nickname she hated. She’d picked that up when Stef had gotten our coat of arms designed, and we’d found out that a starfish was a symbol for the Hobarts.

She looked at my painting. “This top color represents you, and this bottom part represents your father. When you guys get together,” she said, pointing at the divide, “it can sometimes be beautiful, and sometimes a little violent.”

“Very good,” Marc said proudly.

“Alright, how’d you know this part of the painting represented me?” I asked her.

“See these subtle lines,” she said, pointing at them.

“They look the same to me,” I said.

“You have about the same number, but look at these,” she said, pointing to the lines on ‘my’ part of the painting. “They’re more evenly spaced out. Look at your father’s section. They’re not like that. They’re more bunched together.”

“Why does having them bunched together mean that’s him, and not me?”

“Because he is just as intense as you are, but he buries his feelings a little deeper,” Marc said to me.

“Wow,” I said, as I stared at the pictures, and marveled at how well Marc had read both of us.

“You nailed that one,” Darius said approvingly.

“For you, all he’d have to do is paint a panel black,” I teased, referring to Darius’ cynicism, and how well he shielded his feelings.

“I actually did one for Darius,” Marc said. He vanished for a bit, and came back with another package, the same size as the one he’d made for Dad and me. “I have JJ’s already packed to ship to Boston when he gets back from England.”

Darius opened it up and then set it down, and stood back to gaze at it. It was really cool, a smooth set of horizontal lines with some very erratic interruptions. It reminded me of what a Richter scale reading looked like…normally pretty basic, with an occasional spike. “That’s perfect for you,” Marie said, giggling.

“What?” Darius demanded.

“It’s all placid and calm, but every once in a while, there’s a big explosion, and it’s enough that you can see it popping through your shields,” she said, pointing at where the ‘Richter scale’ seemed to pierce through the surface.

“That’s really good,” I said. Darius was like that, where it took a lot to get him to crack the seal and tell you how he felt, but when he did, it could be pretty intense. I couldn’t help but look at the Richter scale, and notice there were two really erratic events, like two earthquakes. “Why are there two of these?”

“I don’t know,” Marc said honestly. “It just seemed like when I thought about Darius, it looked better that way.”

“Because it represents the two most traumatic events I’ve ever dealt with,” Darius said, almost to himself. I knew what those two events were, but I didn’t point that out. Instead, I just put my hand on his shoulder in an affectionate way. That was about as much physical intimacy as Darius was comfortable with. He looked at me with a painful expression. “Ella, and 9-11.”

“Pretty intuitive,” I said to Marc, to move us beyond that thought. Marc was right; I could feel Darius’ emotions roiling beneath my hand.

“You missed the most important part, Starfish,” Darius said to Marie.

“What?” she asked, annoyed that she wasn’t right, and annoyed by her nickname.

“See these lines here,” he said, pointing to some waves at the bottom.

“Those are just your feelings, buried deep down, really deep,” she teased.

“Nope,” Darius said seriously. “Those are the people in my life who are important to me, quietly supporting me and propping me up.”

“Holy shit!” I said, since it was so clear to me now, and it was just incredibly well done. “That’s amazing.”

“See that line,” Darius said, pointing out the one that was the most obvious. It seemed to stick out from the others.

“Yeah,” I said.

“That one is you,” he said. I just stared at him, totally stunned and amazed.

“It is pretty obnoxious,” Marie noted, trying to joke about it, but I wasn’t there. Darius so rarely talked about his feelings, that moments like this were times you had to treasure.

“Thanks,” I said to him, and had to wipe a tear out of my eye.

“Sometimes you have to tell the people who are important to you, that they’re important to you,” he said with a shrug. I impulsively gave him a big hug, and he put up with it.

“I am wondering if I may ask you for a present?” Grandmaman asked Grand, conveniently taking us away from this maudlin scene.

“I am hard-pressed to think of something I would not do for you,” he said gallantly.

“I would like to commandeer the Bastille Day party this year,” she said. That had been a big issue a couple of years ago, so this was no simple request.

“And for what would you commandeer it?” he asked.

“I was thinking that would make an ideal setting, both time and place, for Frank and me to get married,” she said.

“How is celebrating the tearing down of an old fortress appropriate for a wedding?” I asked playfully.

“Perhaps, since we are exploring symbolism, the Bastille is an analogy for Isidore,” Stef said in his snarky, playful way. Grandmaman gave him a fearsome look, at being compared to an old, dilapidated fortress. It was so funny, we all started laughing.

“You have my permission, and blessing, to turn our Bastille Day party into your wedding,” Grand said. I got up and wandered outside to get some fresh air, and I could tell from the footsteps that followed me Zach was with me.

“This is the best Christmas ever,” I said to him. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he said. “It’s not easy to get something for the guy who has everything.”

“You gave me you,” I said lovingly. “That’s the best gift of all.”

“You’re probably right,” he said, acting cocky, and making us both chuckle.