As Time Goes By - Georgetown Book III - 9. ATGB IX

“Damn! It’s good not to feel my ass drag.” It was Tuesday before he felt whole. CJ decided if he ever did ecstasy again, he would ensure he had nothing planned for the subsequent couple of days.

He and Owen spent most of the time after their return to Washington setting up the apartment they would call home for the near future. Rod left a couple of pieces of furniture when he vacated the space and IKEA provided much of the rest. Dealing with vendors handling wedding arrangements and fielding calls from guests was not as enjoyable but occupied large chunks of their time.

On Friday, they started emptying their closet in the basement room and began ferrying personal items to their new living space above the Old Georgetown Theatre. They also helped Ritchie move into one of the guest rooms in the lower floor. Sebastián and Rosario Abelló were flying in from Miami the next day with Olga Santos―her first visit to Washington and the Georgetown townhouse―and the grandparents would take over the two rooms on the second floor for the duration of their extended stay.

The following week, Rico and Lynne arrived from Chicago and they settled into the space the grooms relinquished when they took over the apartment. Ritchie’s lobbying paid off; Silas would stay in the room next to his, while Randy and Tyler took up residence at Rod and Taisha’s home.

Two days before the ceremony, the wedding party and out-of-town guests gathered at Forbes Grille for the rehearsal dinner. The large group included people neither of the grooms had met before; the fathers had invited old friends and CJ and Owen were paraded around so they could meet those men and women.

CJ felt relieved when he recognized the latest arrivals. He spread his arms wide when he noticed the former Rogo’s manager, his wife, and kids walk in. “Adriano! Margarita! It’s so good to see you.” CJ hugged the couple while Owen squatted and greeted their ten-year-old twins. The grooms reversed their position and repeated the process.

Adriano and Margarita Tomassi moved to New Jersey after their marriage to help run his family’s Italian restaurants. Gabriella and her brother—Adriano’s children from his deceased first wife—had grown since CJ had last seen them. “Hi, Uncle CJ.” The young girl grabbed onto his neck and CJ held her while kissing her forehead.

“I want a hug too!” Emmanuel might be bigger and less rambunctious than before, but the sibling competition had not diminished; he demanded equal time.

“Don’t think you have to worry about that, big guy.” CJ pried himself away from the girl and turned his attention to her brother. “I’ve got plenty of hugs for the two of you.” Still crouching, CJ looked up at the kids’ father. “Everything go alright at Neiman’s?”

“Yeah, they had to make a small adjustment to Emmi’s shorts but it took no time. You know, you and Ozzie didn’t have to pay for their clothes.”

Owen clasped a hand on the man’s shoulders and gave him a shake. “Of course we did, mate. We decided the outfits would be our present for the entire wedding party. Your kids will hopefully get some use out of those outfits before outgrowing them.”

Margarita leaned into the Aussie and gave him a second kiss on the cheek. “They looked real cute. I think you’ll be happy with them. And they’ve been practicing. They turned the hotel hallway into a runway and kept walking up and down. Gabi carries one of my purses and Emmi holds a folded towel since the pillows are too big. They’ll be ready.”

Adriano regarded CJ with a smirk. “You seem pretty mellow for someone about to get married.”

“Don’t believe what you see. This is all a front. I’m so wound up inside, you give me a push I’ll keep going and going like the Energizer bunny.”

Brad had his leave approved and flew into Washington early Thursday morning. CJ watched his friend laugh while nursing a beer and talking to Spencer Liston. The Australian contingent had arrived the previous day and most were booked at the Georgetown Inn within walking distance of the townhouses. JP’s parents took over Owen’s old room there and stayed with their son.

“What’s so funny, Kennedy?” CJ’s maneuvering worked well; Brad was granted a week’s leave to attend the wedding and visit family.

“Oh man, Spencer was just telling me about the first time he met you. Did Dragon threaten to throw him off the PP for real?”

“Dude, it happened.” CJ’s excitement rang clear in his response. He had fond memories of the day. “You know how everyone’s always in a good mood while we’re out on your dads’ boat? Well, Spencer was being an asshole and pissing everyone off―”

“That’s a furphy! I wasn’t bloody pissing everyone off. I had some concerns…”

“Concerns, my ass. You were being a homophobic pain. And you were scared crapless of Dragon.” CJ’s laughter intensified as he noticed the confused faces of the friends surrounding them. “Oh, in case any of you are confused, ‘That’s a furphy’ is Aussie slang for that’s a lie.”

“Fine. That was stupid. Based on what I learned later, I should have been scared of you instead.”

Brad’s chuckle made CJ study his friend a bit closer. Brad had changed. He appeared subdued; gone was the rambunctious braggart who left town two years before. CJ attributed the hardness in his eyes to the experiences of war. “How you doing, Red? We’ve barely said hi to each other.”

“Give me a break, CJ. I just got in this morning and had to go make sure my getup fit. Hell, I haven’t spent any time with Tom and JP either.”

“You can do that after Ozzie and I leave on Sunday. Until then, you’re ours. We’re hanging out tonight and all day tomorrow. And tomorrow night we’re having the Squad, Spencer, and a couple other guys over to our place. Pizza and beer.”

“And wine, I hope.” Spencer’s comment made CJ arch an eyebrow.

“You’re joking, right? Are you forgetting it’s your brother I’m marrying? If I’ve learned one thing in the almost five years I’ve known Ozzie, it’s that there’s always a bottle of wine around when food’s present. No matter the time of day. And sometimes, food need not be available at all.”

Owen chuckled while grasping Spencer’s shoulder. “Mate, I have a coupla bottles of this bitchin’ California cab that’s gonna give you a boner.”

“Napa?”

“Nope.” Owen’s pause and smirk suggested he realized the poetry of the single word question and response. “Mendocino. Parducci’s True Grit Reserve. It’s their hospitality line. The twenty-fifteen.”

“What’s the price point? Expensive?”

“Nah… less than twenty a bottle. Spence, I swear I tasted apples. And the tannins’ bite was gentle until it snapped. I’ll open a bottle early so you can enjoy it before it gets too crazy.”

“Good. Did you hear…”

CJ and Brad stared at the exchange in silence. When they looked at each other, the chuckles were simultaneous.

“Did you understand what he was talking about?” Brad slowly shook his head.

CJ’s apologetic expression made his friend’s eyes shoot wide open. “Yeah. I didn’t think I paid that much attention when the Listons start talking about wines but I guess some of it’s sunk in. I remember that wine though. We were at Whole Foods. He was looking through the wine aisle and pulled out his phone. I guess he liked what he read about it ’cause next thing you know, five bottles found their way to our cart.”

“Fuck! That sounds so… so… domestic. The young, wealthy, gay couple shopping at Whole Foods. And a twenty-dollar bottle of wine isn’t expensive. So let’s buy five. You’re such a fucking stereotype.”

“Asshole!” CJ’s laughter made a few people glance in his direction.

“So, first party at the apartment tomorrow night?”

“You got it. Might as well break the place in. And I want to hear all about what you’ve been doing.” CJ watched Brad’s smile fade.

“We’ll see. Not sure I wanna discuss anything having to do with fighting this weekend. Maybe next trip. For now, I just want to relax and forget all about sweat and sand and the stink of gunpowder and unwashed Arabs.”

Out of the corner of an eye, CJ caught a glimpse of Harley talking to their biker friend from South Florida. The man wore motorcycle boots, jeans, a T-shirt, and a black leather vest; Harley was taller and thinner, but dressed the same, looking like a younger version of the older man. “We’ll catch you in a few, Red.” CJ grabbed Owen’s hand and pulled him away from the conversation with his brother. “Come on, Oz. Let’s go say hello to Carlos.”

“…start work. We’ll see what happens—” Harley’s face lit up when CJ and Owen approached them. “Bruh, Carlos came up on his bike! We’re gonna go riding Sunday.”

Carlos grinned, opened his arms, and hugged each of the grooms. “You guys ready?”

“Except for having trouble remembering the names of all these people, I think we are.” Owen had already mentioned he needed a printout of names with face pictures to track who was who. “My brain hasn’t been updated with the facial recognition app yet.”

“Don’t you know your own guests?” Carlos looked surprised.

“Hell, no!” CJ stood next to the man and rolled his eyes. “The dads went batshit crazy with the guest list. Because Dad and I are so close in age, and because I’m still young, this is like one of the first weddings for children of their friends. So they invited people from their college days and from work we’ve never met.”

While Owen joined in the eye rolling, Carlos scratched his beard. “I’ve always wondered about that. Why is it parents insist on having guests at their children’s wedding the kids don’t even know?”

“It’s not all bad, mate. CJ and I don’t mind too much. As long as we have our own friends around, it’s cool.”

“I haven’t heard anything about a bachelor party. Is there one tomorrow night before the wedding?”

CJ draped an arm around Carlos’ shoulders. “What’s the matter, old man? You wanting to hit a strip joint or something?”

“Only if it’s one like Swinging Richards back home. That place’s full of hot men wearing very little while they dance.”

“Ummm, we may have to check the place out next time we go visit the grandparents, Oz. And no, Carlos, no bachelor party. We did our partying when we were in Amsterdam for a rugby tournament earlier this month. Plus, half the wedding party’s underage. I think we might have a little trouble getting into a bar.”

They wrestled the television set atop the cabinet while Spencer and Ritchie cut and folded cardboard boxes for recycling. The younger brothers agreed to spend the morning with the grooms and help them finish getting their apartment ready. The remainder of the wedding party would be joining them after lunch.

“You guys obviously don’t give a shit about your straight guests.” Questioning stares met Spencer’s comment as he walked out of the bathroom.

“You talking about the picture above the toilet?” Ritchie giggled. “It’s a cool drawing—more if you’re into naked men, I’m sure—but for having so many muscles, the model has a tiny dick.”

“You were checking the guy’s dick, bro?” CJ ducked when his brother threw a ball of crumpled newspaper at him. “It’s called art, Spence. All that lifting built your arms but obviously shrank your brain.”

“Yeah, well, fuck you too, mate. I like charcoal drawings and was looking for the artist’s name. But the thing’s signed L.M.”

“CJ and I picked that up at a gallery in SoHo in New York. The artist’s supposed to be a young gay guy out of Texas. His name’s Ceferino Vellacres.” Owen’s pronunciation made CJ smile; it was close to perfect. “We have no idea why he signs his paintings with those initials.”

“That’s it, CJ. Except for hanging pictures. Where are you guys putting that funny painting you bought at the banquet?” Ritchie referred to the Shag oil his brother won during the silent auction at the 2017 Human Rights Campaign National Dinner.

“What about that box we put in the bedroom, mate? The one Tank carried over for you?” Spencer hit it off with Tank the night before, bonding over their participation in bodybuilding competitions―something the Aussie no longer engaged in. They went to the gym together early in the morning and Tank dropped Spencer at the apartment on his way to work.

“Wanna get it for us and put it on the coffee table, Spence? Anybody want something to drink?” CJ took sodas and waters out of the refrigerator and rejoined the others. “Okay, that box has a few souvenirs from trips. We’re going to use those for decoration. Most of them will go on the built-in open shelves mixed in with books. The boomerang I picked up during my first trip to Australia. We’re hanging it above the front door. Kinda hoping friends come back to us the way that thing does. The wooden clogs from Amsterdam go on the wall by the entrance.”

Owen rummaged through the box and pulled out each item CJ mentioned. “We’re going to use them to hold keys and sunglasses. This goes right here on the table.”

“What is it?” Spencer ran a finger over the rectangular box’s checkered pattern made up of mother-of-pearl and basalt square inserts his brother placed in front of him.

“I bought that in Jerusalem last year. It’s a chess, checkers, and backgammon board. The pieces are all inside. There should be a menorah in there I also picked up in Israel. Not sure we’ll ever light it, but I liked the fact each candle sits on a building. It’s like a skyline.” CJ accepted the bubble-wrapped package Ozzie handed him and removed the ceramic item.

“You wanna do the gifts, CJ? Brett said he and César would come get us after they came back from the golf course.” The fathers arranged an early tee time at their club and quite a few of their friends accepted the invitation to play. Surprisingly, Ethan and Thiago joined the group of older men and women. “They’ll be here soon.”

“Gifts?” Ritchie sounded confused. “I thought we brought all the presents over yesterday.”

“Not gifts for us. Gifts for you and Spence.” Owen moved the cardboard box to the floor and placed two light blue shopping bags on the table. “Okay, we decided to pay for your outfits as a wedding-party present.”

“We’re also having a picture of all fourteen of us taken tomorrow. After we get back from California, we’ll have copies made and all of you will get a framed one.” CJ stared at Owen’s hands; each still held one of the bags. He raised his eyes and nodded at his fiancé.

“Since the two of you are our best men, we felt you deserved a little something extra.” Owen handed each of them one of the bags. “I think I gave you the right one but check. They’re engraved with your initials.”

“Oh, great! You people are contributing to the delinquency of a minor. Did you forget Ritchie’s fifteen?” Since the door was open, Brett strolled in without anyone noticing him at the exact moment the best men pulled the presents out of the bags.

“I’ll be sixteen in like two weeks, Captain.”

“Still too young, dude. What the hell possessed you to buy silver flasks for them? Considering one’s underage—”

“Lay off, Papa. Ozzie and I wanted to do something nice and these kinda fit in with the whole Great Gatsby atmosphere. What with everyone asked to dress in spring clothes and guests handed a champagne flute as soon as they get to the reception. Anyway, they don’t have to be used for alcohol.” CJ tried hard to maintain a serious expression.

Brett’s eyebrows nearly collided with his scalp. “Right. Sure. They can use them for Gatorade. Correct?” A sarcastic Brett always made CJ smile. His fathers were such goofs! “We’ll see what César has to say about it. Speaking of your father, he’s waiting downstairs. You guys ready?”

“Yeah, how come Dad didn’t come up?”

“He was checking out the storage space. Leo finished emptying it out. You now have room to store your car and both motorcycles.”

They grabbed broken down boxes and bags of wrapping material and carried them to the recycling bin. Downstairs, they found César leaning against the doorpost.

“Hey, Dad, ready to go eat?” CJ hugged his father and glanced around the parking lot behind the building. “Where’s the Caddy?”

“Definitely ready to eat. The car’s home. I want to show you something in the carriage house before we go. It’s gonna be weird when you guys have your bikes and car over here and we have all that room in the garage again.”

“We have something for you guys.” Brett draped his arms around the couple and steered them in the direction of the old carriage house. “Since you’re paying for the wedding yourselves―”

A smirking César interrupted his husband. “And Ozzie’s family took care of the wine and the honeymoon―”

When Brett once again spoke, CJ wondered what his dads were up to; the conversation sounded too well rehearsed. “We decided we wanted to give you something special as a present.”

They crossed the short distance and faced the garage entrance. “Ozzie complained so much about my gas-guzzling Caddy…” César retrieved the remote control from his pocket and hit the button to raise the overhead door. “We decided to try and make up for it.”

The lights were on inside the empty space that was not so empty at the moment. In the middle of it was a shiny, black vehicle. Ritchie was the first one to react. “Fucking A! It’s a Tesla X!” His amazement did not waver when he took a closer look. “It’s the seven seater!”

“Dad? Papa? For real?” CJ was so shocked he did not move but the other three young men rushed to the electric vehicle and ran their hands over it, all talking at the same time.

“Bloody hell, can I move here and get one of these too? I’m ready to leave Australia.” Spencer’s comment earned him a shove from Ritchie that failed to rock the solid man.

“No way! Next car’s mine. I get my license in a couple of weeks. Oh man. This is such a cool one.” Ritchie tried one of the handles and gasped in delight as the falcon-wing rear doors raised away from the car’s sides. “Is it charged? Can we go for a ride?”

“Hell yeah!” Owen opened the driver’s side door and slipped inside. “I’m driving. Thanks, dads! Let’s take it for a spin. We can worry about food later. Better yet, we’ll go through a fast food joint somewhere and head to a park or something to eat. Gotta be quick. The rest of the guys are coming over in like an hour.”

“What’re you making?” CJ leaned against the breakfast bar, elbows resting on the surface, hands wrapped around a bottle of Landshark.

Sean was not in the wedding party but was invited to the pseudo bachelor party the grooms were hosting. The redhead brought a backpack he was now emptying. “You dickwads had to have a morning wedding to screw up the drinking tonight—”

“Fuck you, Sean. You didn’t have to come if our choice was so bad.”

“Shut the hell up, CJ. You think I’d miss this?” The smirk on the New York City bartender made CJ happy. Sean was someone he had grown to love over the years as much as he did his fellow Squad members. “Anyway, since we can’t get bombed”—the man placed a six-pack of Guinness stout and bottles of Bailey’s Irish Cream and Jameson Irish Whiskey on the counter—“this is the alternative I came up with: Irish Car Bombs.”

“Crap! I’m gonna have to keep an eye on Ritchie and Silas. If they’re too wasted when they go home tonight, the dads will kill me.”

The two youngest members of the group were not falling-down drunk when the party broke up. However, they were far from sober. Owen suggested Ritchie and Silas spend the night in the spare bedroom and made sure they swallowed painkillers before going to sleep.