Lion's Lair - 23. It's All Good--or is it?

Once our banking business was finished, Ryan headed off to his job; I headed to work. Truth be told, I enjoy the 30-minute commute—it gives me time to think on the relatively uncrowded interstate, I can plan my workday/workweek, plus decompress when the workday ends.

Before planning the workweek—which I knew would be busy as hell—I decided to call Rex. We’d talked about getting together for lunch this week, and since I had a dental appointment in town tomorrow morning, we could get together after that. Rex promised he’d explain his “Spidey Sense” and I’m holding him to that.

Even though it’s only 9:30am, Rex answers my call on the first ring. “Good morning, Clayton! How’s your Monday going?” The man is a bundle of energy to start his day.

“I’m doing well, Rex, just driving in to work. You’d mentioned getting together for lunch this week, and I wanted to see how your tomorrow looked. I’ve got a dental appointment, and thought we could do coffee or an early lunch following that. How’s your schedule look for that?”

After checking his calendar, we’re set. I’ll call him when I’m done at the dentist’s office. After typical pleasantries, I end the call, and mentally plan my workweek.

It’s going to be a busy week. In addition to my standard project management duties, I’ll be hosting a conference on Wednesday and Thursday, with my firm bringing together some noted innovators to plan for the Mars mission. I’m proud to have created this conference, bringing together some of the best people on the planet to plan for the future—a collaborative effort between business, industry, and government on this scale has never been done before, as far as I know.

I’ve apparently talked about this enough that Ryan now kids me about how I’m allowing my “inner geek” to run rampant. As an engineer, I’ve been trained to be somewhat obsessive about the details of any project—and the vision of having a small part in the exploration of Mars is both exciting and awe inspiring. Although I’ve fought against the engineer stereotype to focus only on minute details, I’ve given myself permission to turn the inner geek loose from time to time. Ryan has good-naturedly learned to survive with an occasional eye roll and a “grin and bear it” attitude. I’ve not inflicted this on Joe, Rex, Bubba, or Bulldog—yet—but it may come out as a part of the new more-open me.

NASA will be in attendance, bringing the cutting-edge science and engineering prowess for which they’re recognized worldwide. Elon Musk, co-founder of PayPal, founder of Tesla—the motorcar firm and energy specialist--will be there, too. His firm, SpaceX is the largest private producer of rocket engines in the world, and has successfully landed and re-used booster rockets for launch. The company has the contract to supply transportation for people and supplies to the International Space Station, and developed its own tentative approach for development of a colony on Mars. He and his team’s “out of the box” thinking may provide real insights on the plans NASA has on the drawing board.

Dr. Robert Zubrin and his team from the Mars Society will be here as well. The Mars Society started as a collaborative effort among engineers, scientists, educators, astronomers, and business promoting the goal of colonization of Mars. He invented the “magnetic sail”, and his team has done research on the isolation and issues affecting a Martian colony by building a manned habitat in the Utah desert—an environment which can simulate the hostile environment facing settlers.

They’ve developed an ambitious plan to send automated systems to Mars before settlers arrive which would use that planet’s resources to create the oxygen, chemicals, and water astronauts would need upon arrival—thus reducing the bulk and costs of transporting all of those items. This “live off the land” approach is a radical difference from NASA’s “take everything you’re going to need with you” attitude, and demonstrates truly unique problem-solving approaches.

James Cameron, the noted filmmaker, and his team will also be attending. In addition to prodigious creative skills, he’s developed a separate skill set in dealing with the challenges of underwater exploration, thanks to his involvement in the Titanic movie and subsequent deep sea research projects. His approaches and thinking have helped shape new innovations in managing the hostile environment found in the ocean’s depths—and his creative vision of science in a new world, as shown in Avatar, have resulted in remarkable shifts in thinking of how each component of an environment might interact with other components.

It should be an amazing two-day conference as we review NASA’s plans so far… and for those who want to stay over and explore New Orleans, we’ve made arrangements with a hotel in the heart of the French Quarter for their accommodations through the weekend.

It is a long Monday, but productive, finalizing details for the conference.

When I get home, Ryan is already there, poring over his computer. After I lean in to retrieve a welcoming kiss, he points to the screen. “I’ve already got an email from Washington. Part of it is a tentative schedule of activities, and I’m filling out a questionnaire about me.”

“Good. Would you like another beer?” Ryan had already had one, now half empty as he works on the form, and I can definitely use a gin and tonic.

“Nah, I’m good.”

We talk about dinner options, and decide to just order pizza, since neither one of us is in the mood to cook. It’d been a busy Monday for him, too.

After the pizza arrives, we finish up the form. Remarkably, it is a productive experience for me. I learned Ryan’s birthday (December 21), learned that his dad was deceased. I learned he had two brothers (both evangelical, neither dealt well with his coming out, and didn’t know how to handle his loss of legs) and that he had only seen them briefly right after he returned to Omaha. Sadly, they’d made no effort to be involved in his life since then. Ryan isn’t bitter about it, just recognizes it as a past chapter, and has moved forward with his life.

One item that did come up was when he points out he’d listed me as spouse/partner. “Are you ok with that, Clayton? It’s outing me, but it’s also outing you.”

I must admit, that did cause me to stop and think. This is probably the most public proclamation of who I am, since it’ll probably be casually mentioned in a passing press release or two. But, at this point, who cares? It’s not like my career or earnings are threatened, and other than perhaps dealing with some occasional Southern redneck attitudes—and I’ll deal with those—there’s really no issues I can see. Besides, being with Ryan is plenty of reward for any perceived challenges.

Ryan also mentioned that he’d given my name and number to his contact at the Pentagon, telling her I was coordinating his trip up. We now have tentative dates for the trip—and if Rex, Joe, Bubba, and Bulldog are ok with it, we can take a couple of extra days to explore Washington, or maybe do a weekend in New York.

Now that we have the dates, Ryan calls Rex and Joe, who are every bit as excited as Dave and Barry were about the honor, and invited them up for the ceremony. He mentions taking off a couple of extra days and they were all for it, contingent on Joe being able to take off from his welding job for a few days—which he didn’t think would be a problem.

Ryan also calls Dave and Barry, confirm the dates with them, and they said it’d work out well to take the extra days. They’re looking forward to it as a mini-vacation.

Tomorrow I’ll call to set up arrangements for the trip. I’ve already got a hotel in mind, and it’s just a matter of taking care of the flight arrangements, and ground transportation.

We fell into the abyss of sleep that night, both exhausted.

The routine appointment at the dentist went well, and I was out by 10:30am—later than I’d expected, but understandable since my appointment for cleaning and x-rays was pushed back due to a teenager who’d fallen from his skateboard and broken a couple of teeth.

Lunch with Rex was … interesting. He’s quite a character, totally charming, totally engrossing. And he did explain his “Spidey sense”. “It’s just a gut-level feeling that I’ve learned to trust. You know how you sometimes know who’s calling before you answer the call without looking at caller ID? It’s kinda like that—just a little more involved. If it’s during a face-to-face meeting, I guess I also pick up on their emotions at the time, too. It’s kinda like with you—you’re a man with his own secrets, and despite your money, you prefer to live a quiet life.”

I just nodded agreement after getting over my initial astonishment. He had me totally pegged. And, after all, what can you say to something like that? I’m convinced, though, that he’s under-selling it, since his instincts seem far more involved than just a gut-level feeling.

After lunch, headed to my office, finalizing the details for the conference, then back home later that afternoon. I reminded Ryan of the conference when he got home, and told him to fend for himself for dinner on Wednesday night, since my company was hosting a reception for the guests after Wednesday’s seminar ended, and I’d be home late.

The initial conference day on Wednesday went exceptionally well. By mid-afternoon, ideas of how to work the problems faced with placing colonists on Mars were flying around, and my secretarial staff was struggling to keep up with all the input. And, as most conferences do, the ideas continued over drinks long after the end of the formal meeting. I made everyone promise to take notes and turn them in to the staff—you never know when someone’s new idea will play off an idea gestated by another.

I didn’t get in until 10:30pm that night. Ryan was propped up, watching Jimmy Fallon on the Tonight Show. We caught up on each other’s day and curled up together, drifting off to an easy sleep.

Thursday’s conference was even better than the previous day. At this point, everyone was relaxed, comfortable with a free exchange of ideas, and happy with the shared sense of discovery and purpose. When the conference ended that day, I know that solid friendships had formed, and such conferences would be a regular occurrence. Plus, with half of the group staying over to party in New Orleans over the weekend, the drinking bonds would encourage even more solid friendships.

Despite the success of the conference, I arrived home absolutely exhausted at 7pm. Ryan hadn’t made it in yet—his note on the kitchen counter reminded me of his therapy session, and that he’d be late. A long hot shower helped wash away the remnants of the workday.

Once out of the shower with a fresh pair of shorts and t-shirt, I called the tire company in Tokyo and was connected with the liaison contact with the Board of Directors. “Hello, this is Clayton Jameson. I have a request for use of one of the corporate jets on August 8th, with a flight from here in Slidell to Washington DC. There will be six of us traveling up, preferably landing in Reagan Washington National Airport, with a departure time of 10am. Is there a plane available on that date and time?”

“Just a moment, Mr. Jameson, I’ll check.” A few moments later, she’s back on the line. “Yes, sir, we’ll have a plane for you on that date there at the Slidell airport. And your departure back to Slidell?”

“Let’s set a tentative date of August 12^th at 7pm—but understand, that’s tentative. I’ll be able to confirm that date and time within the next 48 hours.”

“One moment, please.” She’s back within 30 seconds. “That will be perfect, Mr. Jameson. Now, are there any specific dietary requirements of your guests? Any food allergies? We’ll provide a light lunch on the flight up, and then a dinner on the return trip. Do you have any menu preferences?”

“If you would, please email me the menu choices. I’ll review that and get back with you when I finalize the return flight.”

“Very good, sir. Is there anything else I can help you with for this trip?”

“I’ll also need transportation to and from the airport. Will you arrange for a vehicle for both arrival and departure from Reagan? I’ll be making hotel reservations, and will confirm those with you by email, along with the menu choices.”

“Certainly, sir, easily done. Anything else I can do to help?”

“I believe that will do it. And, I will get back with you within 48 hours to finalize the remaining items. Thank you for your help.”

“My pleasure, sir.” And with that, our flight arrangements were made.

I’m not one of the over-indulged board members who constantly uses the company’s assets, so I don’t feel guilty about using the company plane for this once-in-a-lifetime event. And it will definitely make the trip even more memorable when we’re able to privately fly in for the Presidential luncheon and award ceremony. That’ll be my present to the group.

With that out of the way, the next step was lodging. I called the Hay-Adams Hotel. It’s one of the grand dames of the lodging in Washington, and boasts a superb location—directly across from back of the White House, so it will be easy to handle the luncheon and award ceremony there. Within just a few moments, I’d booked three suites for our happy group.

Ryan came in about this time; he’d had a strenuous workout with his therapist. Thankfully, I’d finished all my trip planning, so it will be a surprise to him. He rolled over to the fridge, grabbed a cold beer, and damn near swallowed it in one gulp. Another sip later, and he’s reaching for a second beer.

“Tough workout?”

“Yeah, it was, Clayton. Plus a little disappointing, too. I’d hoped to get fitted for my permanent legs, but they’re still wanting to hold off just to make sure the bone spurs haven’t grown any. And, even if they were able to do the fitting, the legs wouldn’t arrive in time for the DC trip.” He looked glum. “I really wanted my legs for that.”

“Ryan, they’re giving this honor to you, not your legs. It’s your heart that matters.” He’s silent as he thinks about it.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Besides, tomorrow is a milestone of a day all its own, so I’ll focus on that.”

“Tomorrow? What’s tomorrow?”

“I move in with the man I love.”

Oh, shit.

I’d been so busy with the week, and letting the inner geek focus on Mars, I hadn’t focused on me—or rather, us.

Fuck ….

“I know—I’d just gotten distracted this week, but it’s a big event for both of us. I’m so sorry ….”

“You do still want me here, right?” Ryan’s question is phrased with confidence, but there’s a tiny portion of doubt seeking final confirmation, too.

“Absolutely, positively.” My smile along with a lean in to steal a kiss confirmed it. “It’s just so damn natural to have you here full time, I didn’t think. I’m so very sorry. I know it’s late in the process, but what can I do to help?”

“I’m in good shape, I think. There’s room in the closets in the master for clothing, a couple of drawers available for underwear, socks, and T’s. The rest of the stuff I’ll put in the guest house—maybe one of the spare bedrooms there—then we can go through it later. Mostly books, some papers I need to hang on to, a little kitchenware, that sort of thing. Nothing urgent on any of it.

“And, Clayton … it’s ok. You’ve been busy, and the job comes first. No harm, no foul.”

He could have nailed me on this, but chose not to. Do I have the best lover on the planet or what?

“Ok, I’ll head to the office early tomorrow morning, and try to be here early tomorrow afternoon. That way, we’ll have the weekend to sort through stuff if you’d like. Maybe even throw some steaks on the grill and just relax—it’s been damn busy for both of us this week. And, if you’d like, we can go to New Orleans and join up with some of the guys from the conference to party some. We got them booked at the House of Blues for a couple of jazz performances Saturday night.”

“Sounds good. The relaxing part, especially. Think we both need some downtime. Hell, maybe even throw in a little sex, too.” Ryan smiles that adorable crooked grin as he says it, and we both know that’ll happen.

“Sounds good to me.”

Friday went well; I woke early, and got to work ahead of the rest of the workforce. A little quiet time there actually served me well as I got a lot accomplished, including selecting the drinks and menu for the trip up and back to D.C., and forwarding that back to my board liaison at the tire company. Pickup at the airport and return from the hotel for our departure was confirmed as well. I also notified our Pentagon contact of arrival and departure times so that any scheduling needed for press interviews could be managed. A work-at-my-desk lunch was productive, too, and allowed me to head out at 3pm. I was back home by 4pm after a stop to fill up the car.

Ryan was sitting shirtless in the den, nursing a beer, TV murmuring softly in the background. The move was obviously complete. A welcoming kiss turned into a make out session on the sofa—and the make out session turned into a full-blown love-making session that never made it to the bedroom.

Now, all that’s left is to wait for his awards ceremonies and then settle into a nice, quiet, easy life together.

It’s all good. Ryan’s home. With me.