Winning the Lottery - 33. Chapter 33 - Is that a no?

As Gwyn led the children away to inspect her new house, Marco grabbed Don in a bear hug and kissed him senseless. Don, as always, responded in kind and things became heated quickly. “I wanna fuck you hard,” moaned Marco, “But I’ll settle for giving you a blowjob.” He dropped to his knees and began loosening Don’s pants.

“Marco...the kids....”

“I know, Babe, but I’ll be quick.” Which he was because he knew exactly what Don liked and just what drove him over the edge.

“Arghhhh!” cried Don in under two minutes. His legs gave out and he collapsed into the office chair.

“Marco...” he panted.

“Good, eh?” beamed Marco.

“The best!” agreed Don. “Who knew that house pictures could be such a turn on? How about you now?”

“Naw, I’m gonna let this boner go down, then tonight I’ll be as horny as a two-peckered owl. Think you can handle it rough?”

“Oh, gawd,” moaned Don again. “I’m getting hard again just thinking about it!”

After a few more minutes of kissing, they reluctantly ‘got themselves together.’ Breathing returned to normal, and they addressed the house issue.

They’d received an independent engineer’s report on the house, so they knew it was sound. The location was almost perfect. It was situated in an upscale neighborhood, at the north end of Kailua Beach, on a small stretch dubbed Castle’s Beach, which Marco knew was a good surfing spot. Marco pointed out that it was a windy area, but the house was designed with a pool courtyard that was sheltered. “And,” added Marco optimistically, “The wind doesn’t blow all the time.”

The security team had pronounced the house ‘doable’ with a few modifications.

There was an excellent private school for the children in Kailua.

“I’m very tempted,” said Marco.

“We should have Derrick and Gabe take a look at it. Just to be on the safe side...” suggested Don.

Derrick, Gabe and their son, Dane we off traveling in the continental USA, but their friend, Kelly, had a free afternoon, and after picking up his son, Alfy, from school he drove out to Kailua (a 30 minute drive) and inspected the house. His report was glowing except, Kelly pointed out, the furniture that came with the house was too formal and uncomfortable for an active family.

Gwyn brought the children back. Then, after a brief reiteration of her role, which she was delighted with, especially after meeting the family, she was ordered to rest until the next day, which, being Thursday, was a pool day for the children.

Gwyn:

The hardest part about my new job was not being one hundred percent involved with the care of the children. But Don and Marco wanted to be ‘hands on,’ and that’s what they were in an organized pandemonium sort of way. I was amazed when it all came together and everyone was bundled into the car and happily on their way to the pool.

My first job of the day was to meet with the security supervisor to whom I’d been introduced the day before. I was surprised to learn that one of the Deacon children had been kidnapped about ten years before! I was thus read the proverbial riot act: Security was not to be taken lightly! One of my main jobs was to coordinate the schedule between the family and their security detail. “We don’t like surprises,” deadpanned the supervisor.

My next job was to phone this near mythical chap, Robert, in Hawaii, and consult with him about engaging and interior decorator for the new house. After hearing Kelly’s opinion and studying the pictures in more detail, Don and Marco decided they wanted a more ‘comfortable’ ambiance for the house. Robert assured me that the decorator to whom he referred me was top notch (she’d apparently proven her mettle on a recent refit of a guest cottage). I could confidently put total reliance on her. Engaging her services turned out to be an easy task. Robert told me the name Deacon was like “open sesame” in Hawaii. I was sceptical, but when I told the decorator who I worked for she practically fell into the phone cooperating. “Of course I can have it done by the end of August!” When I said ‘comfortable’ she gushed, “Yes! I know exactly what you mean. Leave it with me. They’ll love what I have in mind!”

The group arrived home from the pool famished, and luckily I had sandwiches prepared which were attacked enthusiastically.

After lunch, Johhny and Brad fell asleep while Don was reading them a story, but Angie showed no signs of wanting to rest. I asked her if she could come and help me set up my little house knowing that task would appeal to her. It gave me a chance to be alone with her and begin my ‘counseling.’ I’d done research and spoken at length to a grief counsellor who specialized in children. He gave me good advice. “Get them talking,” he said. “All too often adults think that it’s taboo to talk to children about loss and death, so they’re encouraged not to talk about it. All that does is drive grief ‘underground,’ so to speak. But grief always rears its ugly head later, usually in adolescence, sometimes in very negative ways.

“Angie,” I began, “Do you think about your mom and dad?”

Her little face crumpled and she shrugged her shoulders. I took this as an affirmative answer to my question, and continued. “How do you feel when you think about them?”

Again, she shrugged. Tears formed in her eyes.

“I’m guessing you sometimes feel sad?”

“Lisette said I shouldn’t think sad thoughts,” she said. I didn’t know who Lisette was, but rather than interrupt the flow of the conversation, I let that slide. (I was later to find out she was the house mother of the foster home in which they’d been billeted.)

“Well, I’m sure later on you’ll think lots of happy thoughts about your mom and dad, but for now it’s perfectly okay to feel sad sometimes. In fact, it’s natural and very healthy to feel that way, especially when your loss is new, which yours is.”

Angie continued to cry silently. She was definitely a girl who bottled things up inside. But I’d felt we’d done enough for today. I considered that just opening up the subject for discussion was progress.

Assigned a task, Angie perked up at being able to direct the placement of dishes in the kitchen cupboards (that girl is a born manager!)

Later that day Don surprised me by thanking me for engaging a decorator for the house. “That’s one less thing to worry about,” he said. In my previous experience the ‘help’ was never thanked, so I was both surprised and delighted by Don’s comment.

Marco and Don encouraged me to rest, which I was grateful for. Between the jet lag and my new duties, not to mention the lovely Nebraska fresh air, I was feeling completely knackered!

Life settled into an easy routine. I made slow, but sure progress with the children. Brad’s nightmares became less frequent, and Angie began to use the second porch stair. She even allowed, on occasion, the food on her plate to become mixed. Dealing effectively with the children was made easier by Don, Marco and I agreeing to cooperate and not counter or contradict the direction of the others. The children were not allowed to play one against the other. Plus, Don and Marco were never harsh with the children—an approach with which I very definitely agreed! Discipline was easy—in fact it was non-existent—because the children bent over backwards to please Don and Marco and win their praise.

Excitement was building because a visit from Don’s cousin and his husband and their little boy was imminent. The young cousin, Dane, was the object of much conjecture and discussion because Marco had mentioned that he was a real little ‘firecracker.’ Not only that, but Dane’s dog, Patsy, was reputed to be ‘almost as smart as Rufus!’

I watched the arrival of the cousins from my own house. A large, recreational vehicle (I later learned they were called ‘motorhomes’) pulled into the yard and pulled to a stop at the front stoop of the house. Don Marco and the children were waiting impatiently on the porch, and once the door of the motorhome opened, a young boy I assumed was Dane descended its steps making an ‘entrance’ worthy of the most famous Hollywood star.

Wearing a loud Hawaiian print shirt, a backwards baseball cap and oversized sunglasses, and leading a black and white Border Collie by its leash, he stepped onto the ground, looked up at his uncles and new cousins, paused dramatically, then waved his free hand in a sweeping greeting, and declared, “Aloha hoa hanou!”

Don and Marco shook their heads and laughed, the children gaped.

Then all hell broke loose.

Prior to this, the only visit from relatives that I’d observed first hand was several years ago when my aunt and uncle arrived for a visit at the vicarage. The event was all very low keyed and proper. Air kisses. ‘Lovely to see you.’ ‘I do hope your journey wasn’t too tiring.’ ‘Do come in.’

This event, on the other hand, was like the Norman invasion. The dogs were barking, sniffing each other’s butts and chasing in circles. Two men, obviously Derrick and Gabe, descended laughing from the motorhome. There were hugs and back slapping. Exclamations were made over the absolute wonderfulness, good looks and intelligence of the children. It was declared that Dane had grown at least six inches! Everyone talking at once created an unholy din. Dane and Angie circled warily. (Oh oh, I thought, I can see where those two strong willed children might come to blows.) Eventually, the scene settled and everyone, including the dogs, mercifully no longer barking, was herded into the house, where, I knew, snacks and beverages were ready.

From my observation point I watched as quiet once again enveloped the yard, and I shook my head in wonder at this exuberant, loving family. On an intellectual level, I knew they were a rich and powerful group, but their behavior was a complete odds to this fact. It was a little disorienting, but I knew that given enough time (and by God, I wasn’t going anywhere) I’d get used to it.

Within minutes my tranquility was interrupted by the arrival of Angie, Brad and Dane who informed me, once introductions were completed—all talking at once—that I was requested to go to the house to meet Derrick and Gabe.

I was ‘escorted’ to the house—one child on each side firmly holding my hands lest I should try to escape.

Derrick and Gabe were charm itself, and I could tell Gabe was giving me the doctor’s once-over. But I was confident that what he saw was a woman who was six months pregnant and in the peak of good health!

As soon as it was polite to do so, I suggested that the children come with me for a tour of the yard. I added that we might even see our favorite frog in the creek which prompted Dane to declare that he “loved frogs!” (No surprise there.)

That evening’s dinner was a huge, noisy, cowboy style barbeque with the family, the security crew me. There was enough beef, sausages, hotdogs, potato salad, coleslaw, crisps, beer and soda to feed an army! After the meal there were games like football (soccer), volleyball and badminton. There was no segregation, that I could see, between the ‘workers’ and the family. Everyone, including kids and dogs, mingled comfortably. Johnny had the time of his life getting lots of attention from every adult there. Angie and Dane had a little contretemps which was quickly extinguished by Derrick and Don. Dane had become Brad’s ‘mentor’ (much to Brad’s delight) and was teaching him Hawaiian words.

It was all a little sad when two days later the big motorhome pulled out of the yard and the cousins departed to continue their own summer adventure.

A few days later, Don and Marco had a surprise visit from the Child Protection caseworker, Tim Van Slade. With him was another caseworker, a female they’d not previously met. The visit had been expected—it was part of the process—but the actual timing was a surprise, as it was meant to be. It was the first time I’d seen Don and Marco anxious. They were perfectly affable towards Mr. Van Slade and the woman, but I could tell by they were nervous. As Don later explained to me, the Deacon’s had influence and power to expedite the adoption process, but only if the caseworker agreed that it was in the best interests of the children. I understood their nervousness. Don and Marco had become inextricably attached to the children, and vice versa. A reversal at this stage would be catastrophic. Of particular concern was the ‘private’ interview the caseworkers held with the children.

As they left, Mr. Van Slade didn’t say anything one way or the other. He just said that his report would be prepared ‘in due course.’

Meanwhile, my own anxiety was building. The weeks were flying by and I’d yet to broach the topic of staying on permanently with the family. Added to this was the niggling uncertainty engendered by Mr. Van Slade’s visit. It seemed to me that the odds were heavily in favor of the adoption proceeding. But what if it didn’t? For all of us, the alternative was unthinkable.

For me, I’d have no choice but to return my parents’ home in Wales, at least until the babe was born. After that, I’d try and to support the babe and me. As a teacher? A day nanny? It was all very uncertain! In the interim, my parents would take me in without reservation, but I knew they’d be terribly inconvenienced, and with my father’s position in the parish they’d be viewed as benevolent martyrs to their wayward daughter.

Don and Marco:

Tim Van Slade’s parting words brought uneasiness to the table. What exactly did Tim mean when he said, ‘my report will be prepared in due course’? What sort of influence did the female caseworker have? What questions did they ask the children in private? More importantly, what were the children’s answers? And what sort of ‘spin’ would be put on those answers?

Logically, they argued, there was a 99% chance that everything would proceed as expected (or hoped). But the 1% doubt was worrying. And nothing is worse than uncertainty!

The situation was especially uncomfortable for Marco. He was a numbers man. Anything could be worked out with a decent equation. But in this case rational probability was no help. There was no ‘proof’ when that 1% doubt was factored. Marco, frustrated, recognized the early warning signs of simmering anger. The current dissonant situation reminded him of the one in which he and Don had found themselves not so very long ago. He knew, from bitter experience, that he and Don should ‘communicate.’

When he broached the subject with Don he, too, admitted to feeling frustration and anger—impotent anger—because there was nothing they could do but wait.... And wait. Very frustrating!

In high dudgeon they focussed on a problem they could do something about. Gwyn!

“She’ll be gone in a few weeks. Then we’re going to have to replace her. How? How can we replace her? She’s irreplaceable!” lamented Marco. “She’s bonded with the kids!”

“I know, Marco, but we did accept someone on a temporary assignment. She has every right to go home when we leave Nebraska.”

“Yeah, if that’s what she wants we can’t stop her. Unless we kidnap her!”

“Marco....”

Just kidding....”

“Is that what she wants?”

“To be kidnapped?”

“No, Marco. To go home?”

“I assume so.... She’s got the baby to consider and all that.”

“We could ask her,” said Don. “It’s a long shot, but maybe she will say ‘yes’... But what if she does say yes? In two months she’ll be a new mother....”

“We could sweeten the pot by offering her accommodation nearby us. And she could bring the baby to work. Or, the Ka’ena clan could supply a babysitter. Yeah, a babysitter for the babysitter’s child. How cool is that? All joking aside, there’s plenty of different options that would make it work.”

Don and Marco got the ball rolling by calling their Hawaii property agent and asking her to put an option on a house in the neighborhood. That way they’d have an attractive perk to offer Gwyn.

The agent could be heard tapping keys at the other end of the phone and informed them that there were three houses for sale in the immediate neighborhood.

“Option them all!” said Don. “We’ll decide on which one later.”

That evening, when the children were finally settled into bed they called Gwyn over to ‘discuss something.’

She arrived in a state of trepidation thinking she was going to get a bollocking for something. She couldn’t think of what she’d done wrong, but it must be serious if they called her over in the evening.

Don had prepared the outline of what amounted to a sales pitch. He didn’t know why he was so nervous; he’d made presentations to POTUS without breaking into a sweat. But here he was, nearly brought to his knees by his children’s nanny. Having children was certainly a humbling experience.

The presentation as outlined was to go thusly: First, he was going to clearly and succinctly make Gwyn an offer of permanent employment—an indefinite continuation of her current contract. Next, if he noticed she was hesitant he’d emphasize the perquisites of the job: Excellent wages. Housing provided. Car provided. Childcare provided. If that didn’t do the trick he would point out the advantages of living in Hawaii: The salubrious climate. The vibrant culture. Finally, if she still didn’t bite, he’d roll out the guilt: The children are attached to you! You’ll break our hearts if you leave!

Marco approved of the plan. He promised to add encouraging comments at appropriate intervals.

Gwyn arrived. They seated her. She looked nervous. They offered chamomile tea which they knew was her favorite evening beverage.

Marco perched nervously on the edge of his seat. Don cleared his throat. “We wonder if you’d consider staying on with us...I mean coming to Hawaii...rather than going back to England....”

The stunned expression on Gwyn’s face brought Don’s presentation to an abrupt halt.

After a pause, which seemed to Don and Marco to go on forever, Gwyn burst into tears and covered her face.

“Is that a ‘no’?” asked a stunned Marco.

“No!” sobbed Gwyn.

This ambivalent, but emphatic, ‘no’ did little to reassure Don and Marco.

“But...you can’t say no!” blurted Don. “I haven’t finished my presentation yet!”

An overwrought Gwyn was unable to respond, only shaking her head.

Water was fetched. Gwyn sipped and gradually recovered her composure.

“Sorry...I mean ‘yes’ to your job offer! I’d like nothing more to stay with you. I’ve thought about it, and I know I can still do the job with having a babe of my own.”

“Yeah, we thought of that,” said Marco. “We have some ideas....”

*********

It was two fretful weeks before Don and Marco were told an official adoption hearing was scheduled. Tim Van Slade was able to put their mind somewhat at ease when he told them his report recommended approval.

The judged granted the adoption order. Don and Marco told the children and tried to explain what that meant. Angie relieved by assurances that she wouldn’t be separated from her brothers.

Leaving the ranch meant another change for the children—hopefully the last one for many years! On the last Wednesday of their Nebraska residency everyone said a tearful goodbye to Dusty and the horses.

Two days later, at the end of August, they were on a chartered jet heading west toward their new home.