Goodnight, My Angel - Georgeotown Book IV - 9. GMA IX

Sometimes CJ missed home. Even if home was a ten-minute walk away. He sipped from the steaming mug and smirked, wondering how long he would continue thinking of his parents’ house that way. Seven months after getting married and moving into his own apartment, the townhouse on Prospect Street still beckoned. Particularly on weekend mornings.

Although the setting had changed, the routine remained constant. He woke up before his husband, started the coffeemaker, and sat to page through the Washington Post. He did miss the fireplace. Insulated windows and central heating kept the two-bedroom unit comfortable enough they did not bother with clothes except when expecting visitors. Even on days when the overcast sky and chilly January temperature had the few people on the sidewalk below the window bundled up.

The text message chime made him reach for the phone. He typed a response and rose to get a refill, wake up Owen, and throw on sweatpants and a t-shirt while wondering what was so important Carson wanted to come over this early. Trying to decide what to cook for breakfast, he remembered to text his fathers to let them know they would not be joining the family this morning.

 

“Sorry to bother you guys so early on a Sunday.” Carson Sawyer lived in the dorms on Georgetown University’s campus and was at the apartment within thirty minutes of trading messages with CJ. “I almost called you guys last night. I started freaking out.”

“Don’t worry about it. You know CJ’s up early most mornings.” Owen sat at the kitchen peninsula, nursing a mug of black tea. “I had to get up anyway. Both of us have to study.”

Through the conversation, CJ chopped ham, peppers, and onions for omelets. “He’s right, Carson. You’re never a bother. And all you screwed up was me throwing Ozzie against the wall like I did last night and shoving my—“

“TMI, TMI. I don’t wanna hear details, okay? More so since I haven’t gotten laid since we got back from Christmas break. And not in the condition I’m in.”

“And what the fuck condition is that? You still haven’t told us what’s got you weirded out.”

Carson looked embarrassed for a moment. “I… I think it’s better if I show you.” He stood, opened his jeans’ button fly, and dropped them to his ankles—he wore nothing underneath.

“Wow!”

“Damn! Jelly, jelly, jelly here.”

CJ and Owen shut up as laughter overtook them.

“It ain’t funny, guys,” Carson whined.

“Sorry, mate.” Owen shook his head, staring at Carson’s oversized scrotum. “Those low hangers look full and ready to burst. Did someone kick you in the balls? Do they hurt?”

“Not… not really. But it’s uncomfortable. They started swelling up a couple of days ago. I thought it would go down, but it’s gotten worse. I went looking on the internet and I think I have testicular cancer.”

“Dude! Did you go on WebMD? You can’t do that! No matter what symptoms you type in, they always come back with cancer as the diagnostic.” CJ tried hard not to make fun of their friend.

“But I’m the right age! And all I read seems to point at—”

“What you read don’t mean shit, son. You need to see a doctor and let them examine you.”

“That’s why I called you guys. I haven’t been to a doctor since I started at GU, and I don’t want to go to the student clinic. You think you could get me an appointment with your friend? You know, the Asian guy?”

 

“I felt bad for him, Dad.” CJ reached for the wine glass but stopped with his hand poised above it. “Ozzie and I were shocked at the size of his balls. We were laughing, and he looked scared and embarrassed.”

“He just dropped his pants in the middle of your place?” Ritchie sounded surprised.

“What’s the big deal, mate? We’ve all seen each other naked before. You’ve been around us so you know. I felt just as bad as CJ did, but it was still a funny sight.”

“Babe”—Brett stared at César with concern—“remind me never to tell these two anything that might be embarrassing.”

“Screw you, Papa. We’re not heartless, you know? It was just funny seeing the biggest ball sack ever in the middle of the kitchen while I’m trying to cook breakfast.”

César sighed and shook his head. “Right. You’re not heartless. You just laughed when a close friend came to you scared he had cancer. What did you do afterward? Text everyone so they could laugh too?”

“You know what, Dad? You’re turning into as much an asshole as Papa.” Anyone not seeing the grins and smirks would have thought they were all seriously arguing. “As for what we did, we called Chatri right away. He told Carson he didn’t think it was serious, and to show up at his office first thing in the morning. Even if he didn’t have an appointment.”

“So, does he have cancer? How do they know anyway?” Ritchie sounded worried. “Uncle Matt said it hits young guys and I should check for lumps. But I kinda never really do it.”

“No, he prolly doesn’t have cancer. I have no idea how they can tell. But you should check yourself. Ozzie and I do. Well, we end up checking each other.” CJ grinned when his brother made a face. “You should just do it every time you pull your pud, bro. You’d be checking yourself a couple of times a day that way.”

“Fuck you, CJ. You’re just pissed ’cause you’re getting old, and can’t get it up that often anymore.”

“I don’t know about that, Ritchie. Based on close and frequent observations, your brother’s equipment works just fine.” Owen’s comment brought renewed laughter to the men. “Anyway, Chatri said he suspected it was something called orchitis. It’s an infection and they treat it with antibiotics.”

“Well, that’s good news. Chatri proved he values your friendship by taking him in right away instead of making him wait. Or sending him to the hospital. You’ve done well picking your friends, CJ.” César sounded pleased. “I have some good news too. Concerning money.”

Ritchie was involved in the conversation up to that point. As usual, whenever the subject of finances came up, he seemed to lose interest. CJ marveled at how blasé his brother had become about the family’s wealth. His own interest had increased with time, and he now closely monitored how his money was invested. “Did you win the lottery?”

“Close… You know that stock tip Jeff Bezos gave you? The one you asked me to invest fifty grand in for you and Ozzie? I decided to do the same for the rest of us. It’s gone gangbusters. Up double digits in the last month since they added blockchain to their name. It’s like when companies added dot com in the old days. Based on what I’ve heard, we can expect some serious gains later in the year. After they roll out an expanded business plan.”

“That’s awesome. I’ll have to thank Jeff next time I trade messages with him. What about the other company he mentioned? The biotech startup in North Carolina.”

“I’m going down to Durham next week to meet with them. We can talk about it when I get back. Just remember this is a start-up looking for venture capital. It’s a lot riskier. Brett and I’ve never done this before. We wouldn’t really profit until they go public, or are gobbled up by somebody else. The risk of losing the entire investment is very real.”

“Yeah, but if Bezos’ putting his own money in there…”

“I agree with CJ on this one, babe. It may not be what we’re used to, but I think it’s a good bet. I’ve read up on Bezos since he started chasing CJ.” Brett gave his sons the finger when his admission to reading raised eyebrows. “I mean, the man gambled on Google, Airbnb, and Uber amongst others. His investments have paid off more often than not.”

“I’m with Papa, Dad.” CJ looked at Owen and received a nod. “Considering you guys have been pulling money out of the market, this might be good. If stocks do crash the way you think they will, this could turn into something to tide us over until things get better.”

“We trust you, César. We’ll go along with whatever you decide.” Owen sipped from his wine glass before continuing. “But considering how hard Bezos pitched CJ to go work for him, I don’t think the man would steer us wrong.”

“Hell, I might just end up working for him anyway. What with the mess the State Department is right now, and the stupidity emanating from the White House…” CJ had been considering alternatives to going to work for the government after graduation. Unless things changed, he was thinking of staying in school for another degree or forgetting about a career in the diplomatic corps altogether and joining the corporate world.

After the midterm election results, he hoped the American people would come to their senses in the 2020 presidential contest, and toss out the lying piece of shit. He was not holding his breath; there was a segment of the population that clung to him no matter what he did or said. But there was hope. He had contributed the maximum allowed to Will Haskell’s campaign, and the 2018 Georgetown University graduate had unseated the Republican who held the Connecticut General Assembly seat for as long as Will had been alive. The fight for the White House began in state legislatures, and it was gratifying to have a Hoya in the Connecticut Senate.

 

“Y’all want to explain again how I get to spend a weekend in Vail and spend almost no money? You better use little words. I ain’t all that smart. Ya hear?”

“Asshole!” CJ nearly rolled his eyes out of their sockets. “You forget who you’re talking to, Tank. That dense, good ole Southern boy routine may charm your customers and get you laid whenever you want, but we know better.”

“You mean if I act dumb I could get laid more often?” Carson may have been smiling, but CJ was certain there was a genuine interest there. The man was obsessed with getting laid; even more so since he had recovered from his swelling episode.

“Mate, it would if you looked like Tank. People see a meathead and expect to hear one too.” Owen bumped fists with their bodybuilder friend seated next to him.

“No, seriously, guys. After you called and told me how much it would cost, I had almost no time to call Danno in Honolulu to see if it was okay with him. Then I had to rearrange the schedule at the restaurant and pack. Y’all didn’t tell me much to begin with.”

CJ sighed but decided Tank needed to know so he could relax and enjoy the trip. “Not much to tell. My dads planned this trip a while back with Tom and JP. Since three of them have the flu, they had to cancel. The dads offered us the plane tickets. We don’t trade cash for shit like that in the family, so they’re free. Since we’re flying into Vail, there’s no need for a rental. Uber and our feet will get us everywhere. We own the place we stay at. The management company that rents it out for us was supplying it for four people staying three nights so no additional cost. They also take care of lift tickets in advance whenever anyone in the family uses the place.”

“Stop asking so many questions, Tank. If all we have to spend money on is equipment rental and incidentals…”

“That’s you, Carson. Y’all are used to this shit. You forget I grew up poor, unlike y’all. This is like a rich man’s vacation. And I already got a free trip to New York less than a month ago. My sister said I’d gone all bougie then. I can just imagine what she’ll have to say when she hears about this. I can’t help it if I feel like I’m taking advantage of CJ.” Tank may have been borderline whining, but there was also a sense of embarrassment and pride in his voice.

Owen raised a hand and the others became silent. “I’ll handle this one. Look, Tank, you’ve heard about CJ and I meeting when he went to Australia. What nobody knows is we had our first disagreement, fight, or whatever right after meeting. Over money. Because he insisted on showing off his black Amex—“

“Bullshit! I wasn’t trying to show off.” CJ reached across the aisle and punched his husband’s biceps.

“Ouch!” Owen’s claim of pain did not seem valid coming amidst chuckles. “Fine, he wasn’t showing off, but he kept paying for everything. It bothered me, and I explained I might not be as rich as him, but I could pay my way.”

“Yeah, but then you had to deal with the same thing with the dads.”

Carson and Tank leaned forward in their respective window seats, their eyes following the exchange between CJ and Owen.

“That was like eight months later.”

“Tell them what happened.”

“Fine. Okay, so, the next summer, CJ went back to Oz by himself. We spent two weeks traveling through New South Wales, and the plan was for us to fly out of Sydney together. I was moving to DC for school. CJ was stopping in Miami for a few days to visit his grandparents first, and César and Brett were meeting him there. They invited me to join them in Florida and insisted on paying the difference when they changed my flight.”

“You’d met his parents before, right?”

“Yep, at the same time I met CJ. To make a long story short, they forgot to mention they’d also upgraded me to first class. Their little boy couldn’t deal with flying coach.”

“Fuck you, Oz. I don’t hear you complaining anymore.”

“I gave up. I know when I’m beaten. It took a while, Tank. I had conversations with both dads and realized they were not out to impress anyone with their wealth. They had money and enjoyed spending it on themselves and their friends. That’s where my husband gets it from.”

Carson leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes; Tank still appeared unsure. “So how come me and Carson? I thought you’d invite Harley and Thiago. They’re your oldest friends.”

“That’s why the two of you are here instead of them.” CJ chuckled at Tank’s confused expression. “Dude, they went skiing with us for my eighteenth birthday. You and Carson weren’t around then. Ozzie and I thought it was fair to bring the two of you with us this time. Although I have to admit, I wasn’t sure you could make it. What with Danno still being on vacation and all.”

Tank was the general manager for Rogo’s Bar and Grill, and Danno was the owner. “Heck, I was surprised myself. But when I told him you’d invited me, he said to go for it. He must really like you.”

“I guess…” CJ shrugged unsure what else to say.

“Then he said some real weird stuff. Something about the time he spent with you in California and then the trip to Hawaii had opened his eyes. He said he realized how much he was missing by worrying so much about making money.”

“Huh?” The surprised reaction from CJ and Owen was simultaneous.

After a weekend drinking and skiing, the four men returned to Washington late on Martin Luther King Day. They all later admitted to stumbling through Tuesday in a zombie-like state.

 

“What are we listening to?” Ritchie aimed his question at the car’s front seat.

“Australian music. Trying to get in the mood. That’s ‘Healing Hands’ by Conrad Sewell. Ozzie keeps track of what’s popular down under, and this was a top hit last year.”

The Saturday after returning from Vail, with Ritchie and Lucy in the Tesla’s back seat, CJ and Owen drove to the Embassy of Australia on Massachusetts Avenue. One of CJ’s initial forays into the world of politics and diplomacy after moving to the District was a reception at the building on Embassy Row. He and his fathers were guests of JP at the time.

“Do you guys come to this every year?” It was Lucy’s first time attending the celebration and she was all smiles.

CJ shifted in the passenger seat to face Ritchie and his girlfriend. “My first one was in 2014 after I moved to DC. Ozzie started coming the following year after his move.” The annual invitations for him and Owen now came from the ambassador.

“This is my second one. The dads only let me have one glass of wine last year. But the food was real good.” After Ritchie turned sixteen, César and Brett had relaxed the alcoholic restrictions somewhat. The same way they did with CJ.

“I think your parents talked to mine about drinking.” The girl giggled as if sharing a secret. “They told me the usual stuff about behaving, but said I could have wine as long as Captain Brett and Mr. A said it was okay.”

“It won’t be as good as some of the stuff you’ve had at the house, Lucy. JP told me they’re featuring South Australia wineries this year.” Although Owen acknowledged quality wines when he tasted them, he seldom admitted any were better than those produced by his family.

“JP’s your cousin, right?”

“Yep. His mum and my dad are brother and sister.”

“So that’s why you two don’t have the same last name. I’ve never talked to him too much. Ritchie said he and Captain Brett went to school together?”

Born in Australia, John Paul Smith grew up a Yankophile, much as his younger cousin Owen did. From an early age, he spoke of moving to the United States at some point; his wish came true when he was accepted to an American university.

“That’s right. He and Papa both went to UC Berkeley.” CJ always marveled at how those two men meeting in college led to him and Owen getting together. “After they graduated, Papa served in the Marines. JP traveled and was a model for a while, then ended up working at the embassy. They reconnected when Papa was stationed at Quantico.”

Ritchie knew enough of the story to pick up the thread. “It’s weird how people meet. I think it’s so cool Uncle Tom and Mr. A were friends, and they met the captain and Uncle Pope the same night. And they all ended up getting married.”

“Why do you call him Uncle Pope sometimes and Uncle JP other times?”

“That’s what CJ and some of their friends call him.”

“It’s a nickname, Lucy. Not many people call him that. But when I moved to Washington, I heard it a few times and I started calling him Uncle Pope. Ritchie picked it up from me. His father was Catholic and named him after Pope John Paul II. Funny thing is JP’s dad left the Catholic Church because of their stand against gay people, and now goes to an Anglican one.”

“Oooh… okay. So how did Detective Kennedy and Mr. A meet?”

“By accident.” CJ’s comment elicited a groan from Owen. “Hey! It was. My dad was in a motorcycle accident, and Tom was a street cop at the time. He was the officer who responded. Somehow, they ended up becoming friendly. One night they went out to a bar together, and so did JP and my other dad. The rest is history.”

“Wow! I guess when Ritchie calls him Uncle Potus it’s also a nickname. Right?”

“You got it. His full name’s Thomas John Fitzgerald Kennedy. He’s from Boston and was named after President Kennedy. Potus comes from President of the United States.”

“I know your friends Brad and Patrick are his sons. Was he married to a woman first?”

“He was. Hilary’s great. That’s his ex-wife. You’ll like her if you ever meet her. Avoid his dad, though. Mr. Kennedy’s a jerk. I almost beat him up once.”

“What happened?” Lucy sounded fascinated by the history CJ was sharing.

“I’ll give you the short version since we’re almost there. Tom married young and Brad and Paddy were born soon after. He was in the Army, became a cop when he separated from the service, and eventually came out. His dad’s a homophobe, disavowed his own son, and that’s when Tom moved to Washington.”

“But why did you almost get into a fight with his father?”

“Tom was shot in the line of duty back in 2013. I was at the hospital with him overnight. I was so damn scared… Anyway, his father and mother showed up with a priest. They were talking about how their son was a sinner needing to be saved. They wanted to give him last rites. I didn’t want them waking up Tom, and we got into an argument. The crap that man talked made me want to beat him up. Luckily, a nurse called security, and they threw the jerk out.”

“Enough history for now, mate. We’re here. Let’s go celebrate Australia Day.”

 

CJ returned from the dojo and after kissing Owen hello, jumped in the shower. They had decided to stay in Washington over the President’s Day weekend since both were swamped with schoolwork. This evening, they were meeting friends for dinner. He was running late, having lost track of time when he lingered after practice, talking to Thiago about the imminent birth of his kid.

He failed to notice Owen walk in the steam-filled bathroom until the Aussie spoke. “Hey, CJ? We’re gonna have to cancel dinner with the guys.”

CJ rinsed his face and slid the curtain aside. “Why? What happened?”

“The hospital just called. Gina’s being admitted.”

“WHAT? Is she okay?”

“Duh! Probably not since she’s in hospital. I have no idea what’s going on. The lady just said Gina asked her to call us. I figured we’d skip dinner and go see her.”

“That works. Why don’t you call the guys and let them know while I finish up?”

Georgetown University Hospital was on the edge of campus furthest from their apartment, on Reservoir Road next to the School of Medicine complex. On the way over, they slipped into the drug store near the apartment to pick up a flower bouquet.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay? We can spend the night if you want.” CJ was concerned but uncertain what to do.

Gina shook her head. “Don’t be silly, CJ. I’ll be fine. Hell, they admitted me out of extra caution. I could have gone home tonight. The doctor thinks it was stress related. I never realized how common this is.”

“We’re staying in town this weekend, so if you need anything, you let us know.” Owen sounded a lot more relaxed than CJ felt. “Call us when you know what time you’re getting out. We’ll have lunch or dinner together depending on when they release you.”

“Sorry about this, guys. The doctor said it’s not unusual. A little rest and I should be okay. After graduation and before I start work, I’m going to Alaska for a couple of weeks. We’ll try again as soon as I get back to Washington.”

 

“So what was wrong with Gina?” César accepted the fried rice container and spooned a good-sized portion on his plate. Things might have changed in certain ways when CJ and Owen married and moved, but Chinese takeout was still the Sunday night go-to meal. “If she was only in overnight for observation it couldn’t have been too serious.”

CJ disliked misleading or lying to his fathers, but he and Owen had agreed the timing was not right to come clean. “Not entirely sure what happened, Dad. Woman issues, you know? All we found out was, it was stress related. Most likely because of her upcoming graduation and starting to work right after she returns from vacation in Alaska.”

“If nobody’s going to eat the last egg roll, I’m taking it.” Brett reached for it before anyone could object. “Didn’t you say a long time ago she planned to get a masters in communications? Did she change her mind?”

“She postponed it. After she finished the job, CJ lined up for her last summer at HRC. Aileen Ridder offered her a full-time position after graduation.” Owen glanced at CJ and gave him a wink. “My husband keeps changing people’s lives. Anyway, last we heard she’s working for a while and saving money. She’ll go back to school afterward. She’s hoping the Human Rights Campaign will offer her a permanent spot in their Alaska operations.”

“Can I have a little more wine?” Ritchie had graduated from half-a-glass with dinner to a full one; now and then, he was even allowed more. “This is good.”

After César and Brett nodded, CJ passed the bottle of German Riesling to his brother. It was a recent addition to the household’s wine repertoire; the result of a tasting CJ attended organized by his German professor. Unlike the usual sweetness the wine was well-known for, the 2016 Robert Weil Riesling Trocken was, as Owen put it, “…rich in minerals with a surprising lemony taste after it came in contact with air.”

“You look tired, bro. How come?” CJ refilled his own glass after Ritchie returned the bottle.

“It’s been a long day. I woke up early so I could go to the gym. Then went for a run before my Sunday shift at the Smithsonian. Came back, worked on my application, and I have to study tonight.”

“Hey! You’re the one who wants to go to the Air Force Academy. When I hooked you up to get a nomination, I warned you it was going to take a lot of work to get in.” Acceptance to any of the United States military academies was extremely competitive. Physical, medical, academic, and extra-curricular standards had to be met, but it all started with a nomination in one of several categories. In Ritchie’s case, District of Columbia Representative Eleanor Holmes Norton agreed to recommend him after CJ asked and his brother met with her.

“I know, but… I didn’t realize how much stuff they look at apart from grades. At least the fact I’m getting my pilot’s license helps. And the boxing team does too.” Ritchie had joined a pugilist club the previous year, and had practice sessions on Fridays; CJ had been there a couple of times, but the schedule conflicted with his own time at the dojo. “But I may need your help with something else.”

“What?” CJ replied with a mouth full of food, earning him an oink from Owen.

“I think I’m going to run for student government. I need to give a speech and I want you to review it.”

“Politics? You have to be shitting me. After all the crap you gave me?”

The kid tried to look innocent, but the snicker did not work well. “I may have learned a thing or two while you were doing all that. Anyway, the girl also running for the position I want’s a bitch. If nothing else, I want to beat her. To show the stuck up cunt she ain’t all that.”

“Lesson number one, mate: Don’t let anyone hear you trash your opponent.” Owen was definitely trying not to laugh. “CJ and I talked a lot about that. Talking crap about somebody you’re running against can backfire.”

The fathers had been quiet while their sons talked; eventually, Brett pointed at his eldest with a chopstick. “You still running for vice-president of GU’s student government?”

“That’s the plan. Think about it, dads. Both of us could win, Ritchie could get hooked, and then both of us could end up running for office one day when we’re old enough.”

Ritchie shook his head so hard CJ hoped he would not hurt himself. “Not me! I’ll do it in school but that’s it. You can run for President. I just wanna fly jets.”

The vibration against his butt made CJ wiggle twice during dinner; he ignored the phone until the meal was over. As the remnants were cleared, he reached for it. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“What’s going on?”

“It’s Thiago. Nadine’s in the hospital. The baby may be coming earlier than expected.”