Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
The Window Washer - 7. Chapter 7
“I’m here to get you,” he said.
“Me?” I thought, confused. Then his words registered, and a wave of hopefulness rolled over me.
Suddenly I didn’t feel so sick.
I turned and looked at him.
He was standing, looking back at me, with his hands slightly out. Like a supplicant.
I crossed Colibri, jumped onto the dock, and stood facing him. I studied his beautiful face, looking for signs of hostility. There were none. He looked expectant and maybe, like me, a little hopeful.
I held out my arms.
He stepped into them and melted against my body.
I burst into tears.
“That went well,” he said.
“Rob, I’m so sorry,” I blubbered. “I love you so much.”
“I’m sorry too, Jerome. And I love you too. With all my heart.”
That prompted even more tears from me.
“And I love your boat,” he said. “It’s beautiful.”
“Come,” I said. “Have a look at her.”
I took his hand and led him on board. I didn’t say anything. Just let him look. I watched him carefully, gauging his reaction. He moved confidently; he was no stranger to sailboats. His eyes scanned over Colibri’s deck equipment appraisingly.
When we entered the cabin he exclaimed, “Jerome, I’m awestruck. It’s incredible. This boat really suits you.”
I wanted with all my heart to share Colibri with him.
With trepidation I asked, “Do you like sailing?” And then I prayed: “Please God, let him like sailing,” because I knew a negative response would break my heart.
“I love sailing,” he said. “I’ve done quite a bit of it—as a kid.”
Hugely relieved, I burst into tears again.
Rob put his arms around me reassuringly.
I returned his embrace, savouring the feeling of his body against mine.
“I like your new look,” he said.
“Not too scruffy?”
“No, very hot.”
“You feel wonderful,” I said.
Then we lapsed into silence. Lost in our own thoughts....
The urge to atone crept upon me. I wanted to confess my stupidity and stubbornness and beg forgiveness. My body tensed slightly as I struggled to find the right words. I was fearful of starting off on the wrong foot.
Rob sensed the subtle change in me, felt my uneasiness. He held me tighter. Finally, he broke the silence.
“Did you know Jennifer came to see me?” he said.
Absolutely blindsided by this news I blurted out, “What? No! When? Shit! Sorry! In Santa Barbara?”
“Yes, she tracked me down. You know, to break my other arm and leg....”
And then we both cracked up. We rocked together howling with laugher. We collapsed onto the settee. We laughed and laughed and rolled around until finally, clutching our sore sides, we regained a measure of composure.
We kissed. I led him to the bed. It was like the first time all over again. I touched him everywhere just to reassure myself he was real. He did the same to me. I was crazy with desire and ecstasy. Once we got to the deed neither of us lasted more than a few seconds. No sex for three months will do that to a guy.
Afterwards we were lying together quietly. I had my arm around his shoulder and his head was resting on my chest.
He said, “I had a complete meltdown, Jerome. You were right to walk away.”
I said, “When you said it was over my world collapsed.”
“I didn’t....” he began, then exclaimed, “Oh shit!”
“What?”
“I meant my tantrum was over.”
“Oh God,” I moaned. “I’m such a complete ass.”
“We both made mistakes, Jerome,” he said. “But I think everything worked out for the best. I was smothering you. You needed space to bring balance into your life. I needed space and professional help to get my act together.”
I thought about his words and said, “Yes...you’re right, but it’s been tough.”
“Is it okay now?” he asked. “Can we move forward together?”
“I’m crying again,” I said.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said.
We kissed and fooled around some more. Then we were quiet again for a few minutes until my stomach started to growl.
“I’m hungry,” I said. “How about you?”
“Starving!” he said. “Can I buy you lunch?”
We went for lunch at the restaurant near the marina. While we ate we filled each other in on last three months. He told me about Jennifer’s surprise visit, and how that led to seeing a psychologist. How he struggled, physically and mentally, to be well enough to return to work, and return to me.
I told him the story of Colibri. How and why I made the impulsive decision to buy her. About Seth and Dave and Katie, and what my plans had been—before he came back.
“Jerome,” he said. “You aren’t abandoning your plans because I’m back in your life.”
“I’m not?”
“Let me explain by way of illustration,” he said. “I love you as deeply as any human could love another. But I also love my job, which is my passion in addition to our relationship.”
“So you’re saying that Colibri is my passion in addition to our relationship?”
“Yes. Unless you want to go back to work.”
“No,” I said. “What they say about accounting is true. It’s boring.”
“My flight attendant job enriches both our lives. It keeps me happy and fulfilled, and it provides wonderful travel benefits for us as a couple.”
“So Colibri is like your job. She’s my passion, and you enjoy sailing too, so she enriches both our lives.”
“Speaking of passion,” he said. “How about we head back to your place now?”
Rob had left his suitcase in Dave’s care when he’d asked for directions to my boat. Dave was all smiles when we came to retrieve it.
“I wasn’t going to let him on the dock,” Dave laughed. “I told him there were no Jeromes here.”
“Dave,” I said. “I can’t tell you how glad I am you let him on the dock.”
“Jerry,” he said, “I’ve never seen you so happy. I don’t know what the story is, but it must be a good one.”
“Dave, today is the best day of my life!”
“We need to sort this name thing out,” said Rob.
Back at the apartment I had Rob for dessert.
Afterward I asked, “Are you here for good now?”
“Yes, if that’s what you want.”
“Rob, you know I do. More than anything. Everything I have is yours.”
“Even the six million?”
“Especially the six million. Are you okay with that now?”
“Yes, I worked on that issue a lot with my counsellor. I’ll always respect the fact that you earned that money, but communication is the key to happiness. What are your plans for it?
“Well, I thought if I was careful I wouldn’t have to go back to work. At least not for a long time.”
“So you could be a stay-at-home dad?”
I got a little misty eyed again. Rob Mitchell really knew how to push my happy buttons.
We got Rob unpacked and settled. I gave him a tour of the apartment. We looked in all the closets and cupboards so he knew where everything was. We stopped at the living room windows to admire the view.
“Can we see Colibri from here?” he asked.
“No, she’s over behind that building to the right. In front of us is a different marina.”
“And look at the park and the mountains. It’s spectacular,” he said.
“I’m glad you like it. It’s your home too now. If you want to make changes to anything, feel free. Whatever makes you comfortable...,” I said.
He threw his arms around me and kissed me. Then, well let’s just say, he had me for dessert.
That night in bed, holding Rob, I reflected on the recent turn of events. I was fortunate to have a nice home, money, and Colibri—but what would all that mean without Rob? With him here again I felt truly blessed and enormously grateful.
The next morning Rob and I took Colibri out into the bay for a sail. He was perfectly at ease the whole time, obviously familiar with the routine and clearly enjoying himself. I was thrilled.
At that point there wasn’t a lot of time before Katie and I were scheduled to depart for Hawaii, and there were a couple of ideas that I wanted to run by Rob relating to our schedules and plans.
“When are you going back to work?” I asked him.
“I’m ready to go back now,” he said. “But the doctor told me he’ll give me as much time as I need to, you know, get everything together, before he signs off for work.”
“Do you have any immediate plans? Anything you need to do?” I asked.
“No, not really,” he said. “I was pretty focussed on getting here to be with you. I thought that if everything went okay, we could discuss our next steps together.”
“Rob, I have an idea....That day I stopped in Venice Beach I was really charmed. And since then I’ve done a lot research on the area. I was wondering if you’d like to go there for a couple of days next week.”
“Jerome, what a romantic idea,” he said. “We could stay at a bed and breakfast inn.”
For the next few days we sailed, ate good food, drank good wine and fucked our brains out. We were insatiable. And did I say deliriously happy?
Then we traveled to the enchanting community of Venice Beach. After checking out the vibrant boardwalk scene we explored Venice’s tree shaded lanes and its renowned canals. Finally we made our way to the village-like area of Abbot Kinney Boulevard and found a cozy restaurant for an intimate dinner.
I’d been mulling over a plan, and once we were seated I couldn’t wait any longer. I blurted out my proposal in one big rush of words.
“Rob, would you like to buy a house here? I know you’re close to your family. Venice Beach isn’t far from Santa Barbara. Marina Del Ray is only blocks away, and we could keep Colibri there. We could do the surrogacy thing; have a child here. You’d be close to Los Angeles Airport for work. We’d keep our place in Vancouver. Maybe spend part of the year there, part of the year here. This is such a magical place....”
He looked a little stunned. But I could see he was giving the matter serious thought. He smiled a little. Was he warming to the idea...?
I held my tongue and waited.
“Wow,” he said. “You really surprised me. Can I think about it?
“Of course....”
Thirty seconds later: “Okay...I’ve thought about it.”
“And?”
“Yes, let’s do it!”
We talked excitedly about what sort of house we’d like. Rob volunteered to spend his days off looking for something suitable after I left for Hawaii.
Next I suggested throwing a party for all our friends and relatives after I got back from Hawaii.
Rob liked that idea and we had another lively discussion about who we would invite, where the party would be held, the food, and so forth.
Then I made one other proposal which he readily agreed to.
Back at our bed and breakfast inn we made love.
What a wonderful day it had been—exploring Venice Beach, good food, good wine, exciting plans, and great sex--we drifted contentedly off to sleep.
Homebound on the plane Rob resurrected the child discussion.
“Jerome,” he said. “I’ve been thinking that maybe we should go ahead with the surrogacy process right after our party. We’re both over thirty and we both want a child. What do you think?”
“What do I think?” I said. “I think I love you. And I think we should go ahead. Tell me about the surrogacy process.”
Rob explained about gestational surrogacy which involved a donor egg and either my sperm or his sperm. The fertilized egg would then be implanted to a surrogate mother and when the baby was born, he or she would be legally ours.
Rob offered for me be the biological father, but I suggested that we both jerk off into test tubes and split the odds.
“If it’s a boy and he has a huge dick I’ll know he’s your kid,” I said.
“Very funny,” he said. “You know perfectly well we’re evenly matched in that department.”
Back home our relationship took on a comfortable rhythm. Love and lust were still front and centre, but gone were the insecure, angst-ridden days of Santa Barbara. Instead we felt secure and composed.
Katie and I continued preparations for our two month trip to Hawaii. We planned on three weeks to get there, a week or two in Hawaii, then three weeks for the return voyage.
Rob decided to start work immediately after Katie and I departed. He would arrange his schedule to accommodate house hunting, do a little party planning, and spend time with me in Hawaii.
As busy as I was getting Colibri ready for the trip, I took a day off so Rob and I could visit my parents. We opted to fly, rather than drive four hours each way, and I rented a car at the Kelowna airport. When we arrived at their house we saw the new fifth wheel trailer parked proudly in the driveway. Mom and Dad were obviously watching for us, because before I even got the car into “park,” they were on the porch welcoming us.
They warmed to Rob immediately and I puffed up like a rooster with pride. He was interrogated thoroughly, and he in turn showed a keen interest in their life. Much to my chagrin he managed to extract a few embarrassing stories about me. We made Mom and Dad promise to come to our planned party.
On the way back to the airport Rob asked me a question.
“Am I the only person who calls you Jerome?”
“Yes,” I said. “You and your family.”
“Would you like me to call you Jerry?”
“No!” I said. “For some reason when I introduced myself at the hospital—I think it was because I felt a little weird standing there in my suit and clutching flowers—I said ‘Jerome.’ Then when you called me Jerome it felt special and intimate. It still does. I love it.”
“I can live with special and intimate,” he said.
One evening we had Jennifer and Paul, and Katie and her girlfriend over for dinner. Rob hadn’t met three of our four guests before, but he handled the whole introduction scene with aplomb. Katie’s girlfriend, Lily, a drummer in an all-girl band, was a punkette with piercings and purple streaked hair. She was very intelligent and devastatingly funny. Paul, a conservative cop, seemed a little wary at first but soon relaxed and dove into the conversation.
Rob and I expressed our gratitude to Jennifer for her intervention. She said, “Oh, it was nothing.” But Rob and I knew it was so much more than nothing. It was everything.
Everyone promised to come to our party.
The day before my departure I was in the living room absorbed in a sailing manual. Rob was in the bedroom.
Then I heard, “Jerome.”
I looked up. And nearly creamed in my pants.
Rob was standing there in his full uniform. Black shoes, dark blue slacks, jacket and vest. Shirt and tie. Belt and badges.
I jumped off the couch and dropped to my knees in front of him. I pulled down his fly and fished out his man parts. I sucked and massaged for all I was worth. His knees buckled a little as he shot into my mouth. I didn’t lose a drop; didn’t want to leave cum stains on his stylish uniform slacks.
“Fuck that was hot!” I said.
He leaned over, casually kissed my forehead, manoeuvred his junk back into his pants, and sauntered back to the bedroom.
I collapsed onto the floor.
************
Rob and Lily, and Seth and Dave, were at the dock to see us off. When Rob and I had our goodbye hug there was none of the anguish we felt at the Santa Barbara departures. Yes, we would miss each other, and yes, Rob would worry, but it was a joyous occasion. A “bon voyage” moment.
It took twenty three days to reach Hawaii. I called Rob every day on the satellite phone and gave him updates. Katie and I had an easy crossing. Favourable trade winds and clear skies. One day, with Colibri becalmed, I swam nude in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. We ate freshly caught fish. The experience enriched me in ways I can’t begin to describe.
Rob met me in Honolulu and we spent a glorious week being tourists. But we balanced the sightseeing with long stretches of nakedness in our hotel room.
And there was good news. He had found bungalow in Venice Beach that seemed perfect. It was small but beautifully renovated. Light and airy. On a quiet street. There was room in the back yard for a small swimming pool if we wanted. He had made an offer subject to me viewing it, but I told him to go ahead and sign the deal. I trusted his judgement totally, and from the photos and his excited description, I knew it was absolutely perfect.
**********
The return voyage was challenging. We had to beat back against the wind and it was a more northerly route, so temperatures were cooler and the weather wasn’t as good. We had a few rough days but luckily there were no serious storms.
When we finally pulled up to Colibri’s mooring in Vancouver Rob and Lily and Dave and Seth greeted us with chilled champagne. They shook the first bottle and sprayed it liberally over Katie and me.
I wanted to go to Venice Beach as soon as possible to see our new home. I flew down to Los Angeles on a flight that Rob was working. When I stepped into the plane he was greeting passengers. He gave me a chaste hug and before I took my seat he got the attention of the flight attendant in the rear of the plane and pointed to me. She smiled and gave him two thumbs up. When the doors closed I paid rapt attention to the safety demonstration. Well, I paid rapt attention to the hot guy in the uniform giving the demonstration. Mid flight I went back to the galley and met Rob’s colleagues. They were all so cheerful I could see why Rob loved his job.
It was my turned to be awed when I saw our little bungalow. It was everything Rob described and more. There was no furniture so we made love on the kitchen floor. Then the living room floor, then the bedroom floor....
We went to a furniture store and selected a few basic items but decided to leave the final outfitting of the house until after our party. We were just about to leave the store when Rob made a suggestion.
“Let’s look at baby furniture. Cribs and stuff.”
“Yes!”
We were completely spellbound by the nursery furnishings.
“Oh Jerome, I hope....”
“Me too, Rob.”
**********
Back in Vancouver we threw ourselves into organizing the party. We set a firm date. We drew up a guest list of about thirty close friends and relatives. We decided to have a catered buffet dinner. When Rob was away I shopped for party supplies.
One day Rob and I went out and had something specially designed for the party.
Rob’s schedule was good. He would be gone for two or three days at a time, and then he was home for three or four days. Mostly he flew to Hawaii and back. Sometimes he went east to Chicago or New York. He thrived on his work. When he was away working I would often go sailing and sleep on Colibri. Our bed at home seemed too big and too cold without him.
Finally party day was upon us. Our parents and Rob’s brother and Lauren arrived first for introductions. Then the other relatives and friends drifted in. Soon our apartment was full of noise and good cheer. We had laid in a generous supply of spirits and soon people were mingling uninhibitedly.
Rob and I looked around the room and did a head count.
All our guests had arrived save for one.
Now was moment to make good on the proposal I had made, and Rob had accepted, that first evening in Venice Beach.
I made a quick phone call and stood near Rob.
Our final guest, who was standing by, arrived at our door minutes later.
She entered our apartment, I took Rob’s hand, and we asked for everyone’s attention.
Once the hubbub died down I introduced our new guest.
“This is Megan,” I said. She’s a Marriage Commissioner.”
The room was so silent you could hear a pin drop.
“Do you know anybody who wants to get married?” I asked pointing vigorously at Rob and me.
Everyone started applauding and shouting and whooping. I looked over and saw my mother wiping tears from her cheeks.
Then our simple ceremony began.
Megan read an introduction, asked the preliminary questions, and we took our vows.
“Do you, Jerome Hardwick, take Robert Mitchell....”
“I do.”
Do you, Robert Mitchell, take Jerome Hardwick....”
“I do.”
We exchanged our beautifully designed rings.
And then Megan said the words that made us the happiest men on the planet.
“...I now pronounce you a legally married couple.”
- 29
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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