Winning the Lottery - 14. Chapter 14 What I did on my summer vacation

I only had a few months to go until I was finished my residency in community practice, and, frankly, I was counting the days until the end. I still had the boards to sit, which meant some more studying, but I wasn’t too worried about those. Naturally, I was excited about being truly independent and unsupervised. Derrick, unbeknownst to me, had also been thinking about my ‘finish’ but in a different way than me....

After dinner one evening he suggested we cuddle on the couch and ‘talk.’ I’ll admit to being surprised, and being the analytical person I was, tried to think if anything was ‘wrong’ in our life. I didn’t think so, but then I hadn’t been the most attentive husband. Try as I might, I still brought work home with me, at least in my mind. It’s hard to forget about Mrs. Jone’s gallbladder or Mr. Kimaho’s prostate cancer.

Derrick got us each a glass of wine, then had me sit in my favorite position, with him leaning back in the corner of the couch and me tucked in between his legs, with my back resting against his chest, and his arms around my torso. He kissed me on the neck—very seductively, I might add—and said quietly, “Gabe?”

“Yes, my dear?”

“You’ll be writing your boards in early May, is that correct?” And the bugger kept kissing my neck, which threw my concentration off a little. (Plus I could feel him getting hard against my ass.)

“Mmmmm.”

“Well, you’ve been working very hard for the last seven years...I was...um...wondering if you’d like to take a little holiday? Well, maybe ‘sabbatical’ is more the right word.” His right hand was slowly drifting its way toward my rapidly swelling you-know-what.

“When that hand reaches my dick, you know I’ll agree to anything.... What did you have in mind?”

“A four month cruise.” His hand closed on my cock.

“What!?” I straightened up and turned to face him. His face had a sort of ‘don’t give me any shit’ look.

“You’re serious aren’t you?”

“Very.”

I settled back against him and placed his hand on my cock again. “Tell me what you have in mind.”

“Well, I think we can both use some time off. I mean we’ve been pretty hard at it for the last few years, and we’ve only taken a few short holidays. Gabe, I want you to myself for at least four months. I’m tired of sharing you with heart attacks, broken bones, brain tumors, ulcers and God only knows what else. If you’re interested, I’ve been looking at chartering a yacht to cruise in the Mediterranean for the summer. From about mid-May through mid-September.”

“Like a sailboat?” I asked with some trepidation. I really wasn’t sure about sailing for four months...

“No. A huge motherfucking motor yacht. One hundred and thirty feet long. Totally deluxe. Six staterooms. The works. Including a full crew to take care of us.”

This is where a normal person might ask, ‘Can we afford it?’ But that question to a Deacon is pretty irrelevant. I mean, it sounded like one hell of a good idea, but there was my clinic to get up and running.

Derrick was reading my thoughts. “You can delay the opening of your clinic, or get Jordan to get it started. You guys have been talking pretty seriously about sharing the load, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, I guess.... But I’d like to be there for the first few weeks. It’s kinda my baby....”

“Okay. But you like the cruise idea?” He’d kept up that damn sexy neck kissing and cock massaging, and I was slowly losing my mind.

“Mmmmmm. I love the cruise idea. And we deserve some time to ourselves, don’t we? Mmmmm. More importantly, I want to devote a good, uninterrupted chunk of time to you.”

“Let me get my phone. I’ve got some pictures.” He gave my dick a few more squeezes and gently pushed me away so he could fetch the damn phone. By this time I was dripping precum and having a hard time concentrating on anything but getting Derrick into bed and having my way with him. I took a deep breath to center myself. This was evidently a project Derrick had put some thought into, and he deserved my undivided attention.

When Derrick said ‘huge motherfucking motor yacht’ he wasn’t kidding. The boat he had in mind was 130 feet long, with huge formal rooms and staterooms. There was gorgeous wood trim everywhere and the furniture was sumptuous eggshell white leather. The master bedroom, bathroom suite rivaled the luxury of the Imperial Hotel in Tokyo.

“And this boat is available for lease?”

“Yes. I’ve got the office travel person working on leasing it. Say the word and it’s ours, any time between May and October.”

I was pretty amazed, because this kind of extravagance was not characteristic of Derrick. But I wasn’t so stupid as to voice that thought. If this is what Derrick wanted, then I’d move heaven and earth to make it happen.

“I’m in, hon. Once hundred percent in. Let me talk to Don and Jordan tomorrow and see what we can work out with the clinic opening.”

“Thanks, Gabe. You’re the best!”

“Now, you naughty boy, you’ve got me all horned up. I need to get naked with you. Right away. Now, in fact. Then, later, we can talk more about the cruise.”

Derrick’s suggestion had put some spice into our lovemaking—both of us appreciating the other a little more—so it got pretty wild.

After a bit of R & R, we opened the map app on his phone and checked out the Mediterranean. The plan would be to pick up the boat at its home port in southwestern Turkey, then sail west. There were numerous ports of call to think about in Greece, Italy, France and Spain. We’d have to fine tune the itinerary later, but having our own yacht meant that we could adjust it as we went along also.

The Deacons were a pretty close family, so I had to ask, “What about Dad and Mom?”

“Nope. Our cruise. They can hire their own boat if they want.”

“Cass?”

“Nope.”

“Friends? James and Monique?”

“Maybe.... But only brief visits. Call me selfish, Gabe, but I want you all to myself. I want total privacy so we can make love morning, noon and night. No interruptions.”

“Sounds lovely to me. I’ll talk to Don and Jordan about the clinic and see what we can work out in terms of timing. I take it you’ll arrange the boat rental and travel with the Dea-Con people?”

The project galvanized us into action and the next morning I phoned Don and asked for his input about the clinic opening. He reminded me that I’d asked not to be on the administrative side of things in any case, that I just wanted to do ‘doctoring’ and not get involved in any ‘paperwork’ save for my patients’ records. That meant that the clinic’s operation was totally independent of me, meaning I was free to bugger off (Don’s words) if I wanted to. He reminded me that there were hundreds of young doctors in the mainland US looking for the chance to do a locum for four months in Hawaii. There would be no problem ensuring the clinic was adequately staffed.

Jordan bought into the idea right away. It would give him four months of ‘regular’ work. Kelly worked a very early shift at the radio station, and this way they’d have more day to day, and one on one time with Alfy, and their weekends would be free for family time.

We fixed the departure date for June 1^st and the return date for September 30^th. Derrick applied for, and was granted a four month leave of absence from his job.

The clinic was up and running by mid-May. It was a simple store front set-up. It was intentionally finished very plainly order to ensure our clients felt comfortable; to encourage everyone to feel comfortable walking in. Of course, we had state of the art equipment, but that was all behind the scenes.

From day one we were busy. On day two we hung a large sign in the waiting room: “WE DO NOT PRESCRIBE NARCOTICS. NO EXCEPTIONS!” Then: “Abuse—verbal or physical-- of staff will not be tolerated.” Then: “ABSOLUTELY NO WEAPONS.” Luckily, we’d included a full-time security guard on staff. We expected a certain amount of problems. After all, it was a downtown clinic, and we were dealing with severe mental health and addiction problems from day one.

The diagnostic center worked better than I’d hoped. In that first week I confirmed two cases of diabetes, two cases of heart artery blockages, several cases of STD’s, various bacterial and fungal infections. Plus, several blood chemistry anomalies. One, hopefully early, case of malignant melanoma, and a few cases of squamous cell carcinoma. And a few pregnancies. All situations where early intervention can work wonders. It was a very satisfying week.

But Don was right about one thing. Steady work in a clinic like that, and I’d be burned out real quick. And Derrick was right too. Some time off would do wonders for me, for us. When I stepped back and looked at myself, I could see that my head was fairly spinning. Derrick’s ‘intervention’ came at the perfect time.

That got me worried about Jordan’s stamina. Straight from med school and residency to a busy work environment. Maybe he could take a break after I got back. I suggested it to him.

“Thanks for the suggestion, man. No can do, though. Gotta think about Alfy, and I gotta start paying back some of my student loans.”

Student loans? I had no idea he had them. The subject had never come up. But, of course he would have them. Most medical students nowadays do—unless they’re lucky like me and come from rich families. Then I had a severe attack of guilt. I’d manoeuvred him and Kelly into adopting Alfy, blithely not questioning what kind of overall financial and time commitment they’d be entering into. Damn! That’s why doctors, and especially me, shouldn’t meddle. Sometimes, in our idealism, we lack the big picture.

That evening, as I am wont to do occasionally, I confessed my sins to Derrick.

“Oh my sweet, analytical Gabe. They adore Alfy. You didn’t manoeuvre anyone. They went into it, happily, with their eyes open.”

“Yes, but now Jordan has to work extra hard, both at home and at work. Derrick, he can’t take a break because of his student loan debt. I don’t want him to burn out.”

“So, as an adoption gift, and as a thank you to Jordan for carrying the load while you travel, we can pay off his student loans. Plus, I think we should seed an education fund for Alfy, since you ‘found’ him for them and all....”

We invited Jordan and Kelly over for dinner and told them about our gift. They protested, as I knew they would. Kelly even seemed a bit offended—I think his Hawaiian pride was wounded. But forewarned is forearmed, and I’d made a strategic move. I pulled out the big guns. I’d invited Dad and Mom over for dinner too. As you know, MacKenzie can sell refrigerators to Eskimos, and in her kind and gentle way she talked them around.

There was another factor I hadn’t thought of though when I was feeling guilty about saddling Kelly and Jordan with extra work. They both had huge extended families who were there to help at every turn. In fact, they had to fend off various grandparents, aunts and uncles who all wanted to ‘do something special’ with little Alfy. That kid wasn’t going to lack for love in his life.

But I did meddle just a bit more. I elicited a promise from both Jordan and Kelly that they would take at least one month ‘family time’ off once I got home.

Finally, all the I’s were dotted, and the T’s crossed to my satisfaction, (I think poor Derrick’s patience was beginning to wear a little thin) and we were on the Gulfsteam flying east, and more east... It was a relaxing trip. Just the pilot, copilot and the two of us. No bodyguards. We made three stops for fuel and food then finally arrived in Bodrum, Turkey, relaxed and rested, to board the boat.

Not a boat, a ship. It was huge. And sleek. It’s blue and white colors shining in the sun. Inside was magnificent. The photos really hadn’t done it justice. It was massive; so much larger than we’d imagined. It had an enormous salon, huge dining room, a professionally equipped kitchen and generous staterooms. Oh, and don’t forget the theatre-style media room. Plus huge covered and open decks. There was a small speedboat stored crosswise on the upper rear deck. Not to mention the Jetskis that could be launched from a door in the side of the hull. Sumptuous furnishings everywhere. Wow! All this just for the two of us. It carried a crew of four: the captain, a mate, a steward and a cook. All who were ex-special forces and who’d been thoroughly vetted by Dea-Con Security. In addition to their shipboard duties they were also our body guards. Finally, at my insistence, every cupboard, nook and cranny contained a tube of SPF 50 sunscreen. Hey, better safe than sorry.

The big ship’s engines rumbled to life, and we sailed, literally, into the sunset. The whole Mediterranean area is an archeologist’s wet dream. Honestly, you could go nuts trying to explore all the historically significant sights. So what we’d done is left our itinerary in the hands of the Dea-Con travel expert. He’d picked out several highlights for us to see, as well as stops of interest, and shore excursions, just to get a feel of the local cultures. We gradually made our way west across the northern Mediterranean. Crete, Hydra, Athens. Then the Dalmation Coast, then Venice. Next came Sicily, Capri, Pompei, Rome and the Cinque Terre. After a quick stop at Corsica we arrived, ta da, at Villefranche where we set anchor in the bay for two weeks. That’s when we had our ‘guests’ flown in. Mom and Dad. Cass and Khala. Charlie and his current boyfriend (turns out our Charlie is an honest-to-god bisexual). We threw a dinner party for a large group of Madame Stracht and Monique and James’ friends. Abu and his family showed up on their huge yacht to spend a few days with us. The ‘kids’ had a wonderful time waterskiing and roaring around on the Jetskis. Happily, Mr. Foroughi and his wife joined us briefly on their way to visit her relatives in Cyprus.

Paul Allen recognized Prince Abu’s yacht and had us all over one evening for cocktails on his yacht, ‘Octopus.’ Now THAT, ladies and gentleman, is one truly big motherfucker of a yacht. Not one, but two helicopters on board! Madame Stracht will be dining out on that experience for years, especially when Paul, learning that they were ‘neighbors,’ invited her to visit his villa on Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat.

After two weeks of nonstop socializing, we were glad to bid adieu to our guests and sail west again. We stopped at Marseilles, then went on to Cadaques, Spain, which is famous for having Salvadore Dali’s summer home. Then on to Barcelona. After that we stopped at Sitges.

A word about Sitges. It’s a well known gay holiday resort, including great night spots and nude beaches. Derrick and I danced our socks of one night at a club, and spent a whole day at a nude beach. Watching all those bronzed, naked guys had the effect of getting our motors all revved up—not that we sampled any of the merchandise—but we sure had some hot sex that night. Yeah, baby.

After that it was on to Valencia, Malaga and Gibraltar. Then we turned around and headed back east across the Mediterranean with a final stop in Malta.

All that took four months. I know my narrative probably makes it sound rushed, but it wasn’t. (Sorry readers, I’m no Rick Steves.) The pace was generally very slow and there was plenty of time on board the boat for relaxing. Derrick and my relationship grew stronger for the time we were together and our shared memories of that trip.

I arrived home to find the clinic running smoothly under Jordan’s care. I was eager to get started.

Derrick and I arranged our schedule for the immediate future so that we’d be together more. We’d gotten used to each other’s constant company, and we liked it. So we decided to work only Monday through Wednesday. Thursday through Sunday would be ‘our’ time, and time to spend with Cass and the rest of the family. The Dea-Con Foundation staff arranged for suitable coverage at the clinic. Jordan, of course, was going to take a month off to spend with his family.