Naptown 24 - A Blizzard in Iowa - 4. Wedding Preparations

A Blizzard in Iowa

A Naptown Tale by Altimexis

Wedding Preparations

Although my parents’ corporate headquarters were located in Chicago and they spent most of their time in Cedar Rapids where they’d built a huge mansion that I thought was garish by even their standards, their weekends were spent at our ancestral home in Burlington, Iowa, the one place that held the fondest memories for me. Located, literally, in the middle of nowhere, nestled on a bluff overlooking the Mississippi River, it was at best a two-hour drive from Cedar Rapids, and could take twice that long when the frequent winter storms hit. In good weather, it was a four-hour drive from Chicago, a four-hour drive from Saint Louis and a five-hour drive from Indianapolis. Even the river towns of Davenport and Rock Island were more than 2½ hours away by car. Yes, the middle of nowhere was an apt description for the town where my ancestors planted their roots, but that was one of the things that made them so self-sufficient.

The house was a huge, sprawling structure that had a colonnaded front porch with a balcony, three stories, a grand entryway with a sweeping stairway to the second floor, a ballroom, and a solarium. There were sixteen bedrooms, eighteen bathrooms, a library, a game room, and even a bowling alley. It was listed on the National Register of Historic Landmarks, and for good reason - riverboat excursions had been pointing it out to tourists for years. My parents planned to retire there one day, and I fully expected I’d donate it to the public after they passed away, with a hefty endowment so that the house and gardens could be maintained for all to enjoy.

This ancestral home had served as the backdrop for a number of our family’s weddings, including that of my parents. It was an idyllic setting for a wedding, although perhaps a better setting for a spring or early fall wedding than a late fall wedding. Now, the leaves were already gone from the trees and dire warnings of a major snowstorm had kept us all on the edge of our seats, worrying that people might have to cancel their travel plans. Out West, Denver had been hit with nearly two feet of snow, closing the airport and causing flight delays throughout the country. Fortunately, because my parents had arranged for most of our guests to fly into the regional airport via private jet service, commercial flight delays and cancellations were not a concern.

Nearly everyone was already here, comfortably set up at bed and breakfasts and guesthouses in town and at the local hotels, such as they were. Unfortunately, we didn’t have much to choose from, particularly on short notice, and so except for the closest family members, who stayed with us, and VIP guests, who stayed in four- and five-star bed and breakfasts and guesthouses, everyone else had to stay at the local Quality Inn, Comfort Suites, Fairfield Inn or Holiday Inn Express. Burlington just didn’t rate a Hilton, nor did nearby Mount Pleasant, Keokuk, or Fort Madison. Such was the plight - and the charm - of small town Iowa.

“I still can’t believe you invited me to be your best man,” I heard someone call out from behind me as I looked out from the sunroom toward the Mississippi River.

I turned around to see Jeremy Kimball approaching me, with David Reynolds at his side, followed closely by Trevor Austin and Kurt DeWitt. Seeing them, a huge grin took over my face. I hadn’t realized just how much I’d missed them. In the short time I’d gotten to know them over the summer, they really had become my best friends. No one understood me better than they did, particularly Jeremy.

“You guys just get in?” I asked.

“Yeah, but I’ll tell you, the drive here was bor-ring.” David proclaimed.

“I offered to fly you guys in on a private, chartered jet,” I reminded them.

“Yeah, we know,” Jer acknowledged, “but we wanted to have our own wheels. My Dad was nice enough to let me borrow his Navigator so we could all ride in comfort. My Boxter only seats two, and I don’t think we’d have survived the trip with four of us crammed into Trevor’s Jetta. But man, the Navigator eats gas like crazy. I’m just glad my dad doesn’t have a Hummer.”

“I wouldn’t have let us come in a hummer,” David challenged his boyfriend with all seriousness. “No way, no how.”

“I suppose not,” Jer, countered, “but think of it this way . . . we still saved a ton of fuel compared to what a private jet would have used.”

“Which is one of the reasons I’m glad we drove.” Putting up his hands defensively, David continued, “I know, I can be a bit stubborn sometimes.” Turning to me, he said, “Jeremy’s the practical one, which is one of the reasons I love him so much.”

Putting my hands on both their shoulders, I said, “You two have something special, just like Brian and I do, but I know I don’t need to tell you that.” Looking beyond them, I added, “Trevor . . . Kurt, you two do also. I can never repay all of you for what you’ve done for me. Were it not for you, I’d have never had the courage to come out, and I’d have never met Brian, the love of my life. Saying thank you just doesn’t seem to go far enough.

“Anyway, welcome to bustling Burlington,” I said.

“With all your friends from your childhood, I still can’t believe you want me to be your best man,” Jeremy reiterated.

“None of those friends are real, Jer,” I said as I gave his shoulder an extra squeeze. “You guys are all real. In the short time I’ve known all of you, you’ve shown me what true friendship really means. I think you understand me better than anyone, Jer, and we’re closest of all, which is why I asked you to be my best man. We share very similar backgrounds, but that doesn’t mean my friendship is any less with the rest of you,” I said as I gave David’s shoulder an extra squeeze. “And thanks for the role your gonna play in the wedding, David. It takes a big man to do what you’re gonna do.”

“When you asked me,” David responded, “I thought it was a big joke, but then you explained you were quite serious, ’cause Brian was the youngest in his family and you didn’t have any younger brothers or sisters either, and you already had something else planned for Kurt. Being that I’m just about the tallest person here, it should inject a bit of humor into the service.”

“And Trevor and Kurt,” I added, “thanks for accepting your part, too.”

“You can’t imagine how honored I am that you asked me to co-officiate with your family minister, Will,” Kurt answered. “It’s such an incredible fucking honor, I can’t believe it. And wait ’til you hear my baby sing. It was hearing him sing in the choir at church every week that gave me a crush on him in the first place, and his voice has only gotten better since. He plays a mean guitar, too . . .”

“Yeah, well,” Trevor interrupted his fiancé as he blushed. I do OK, but next to computers and science, music is a passion of mine. As promised, I brought my Les Paul guitar with me, so I’ll be rocking down the house with your band, if they can keep up with me,” he laughed.

“You only need to sing the Wedding Song, unless you want to sing more,” I explained. “Perhaps that’s all we’ll want you to sing,” I teased poor Trevor, but Kurt wasn’t having any of it.

“Believe me, after you hear Trev sing, you won’t want him to stop,” he said in all earnestness. He certainly idolized his guy, just as I did my Brian.

“By the way, congratulations, guys,” I added as I drew David and Jeremy both into a tight hug.

“Thanks, man,” Jeremy said and David chimed in with, “We really appreciate you remembering.”

“Hey, winning the state championship is a big deal.”

“First time for our school, too,” Trevor said, “and it’s all because of David and Jeremy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” David tried to laugh it off, but his boyfriend wasn’t having any of that. “It is a big deal, honey. You were the team captain. You led us there. It was all you!”

“Bullshit, Jer,” David said as he wiggled his way out from under my arm and confronted his boyfriend. “I may have been the team captain, but I was just the defensive midfielder. You were the offensive midfielder. You were the one responsible for setting up plays . . . for scoring. You got us the goals.”

“And you kept the other teams from scoring, and got us the ball in the first place,” Jeremy pointed out. “Soccer is every bit as much about defense as offense, if not more so. That’s why the defensive midfielder is usually the captain. Regardless, honey, we’re a team, you and I. We took our school all the way to the state championship, and backed up by some terrific players, we made it all the way, and we won.”

“It’s too bad you guys couldn’t at least get athletic scholarships out of it,” Trevor lamented.

“Yeah, what’s with that?” I asked.

“Well, it’s complicated,” David started to explain. “We’re pretty sure we’ll be accepted to Harvard.”

“You guys’ll be accepted to Harvard,” Kurt stated as if it were a known fact.

“Yeah, well we’d like to think so,” David continued, “but the rules are different for early graduation, because we won’t get our high school diplomas until after we start college. Sure, we’ll have all the necessary credits for admission. Our grades are nearly all A’s and our SATs are in the 99^th percentile, so it should be a non-issue.”

“You also have letters of recommendation from Obama, right?” I asked.

“Well, there is that, too,” Jeremy noted, “and you’d think that would cinch it, but a lot of potential incoming freshmen have letters of support from prominent politicians.”

“But Obama? The President?” I again asked.

“Because they’re Harvard,” David explained, “they’ll let us know in the spring. It’s a non-standard admission and that’s the best they’re willing to give us. In the meantime, we already have acceptance letters from several other schools, including yours. I have to say, we’re tempted, but we really have our hearts set on Harvard, ’cause we really want to go to school with our friends, and we want to go to school in a place were our marriage is legal.”

“Speaking of your marriage, have you guys set a date, yet?” I asked.

“We’ve decided to do what our friends, Randy and Altaf did and hold our wedding next summer over the Fourth of July weekend,” Trevor explained. “It turns out the Fourth is on a weekend again next year, so it works out well for everyone concerned. We’re looking right now at places in the Boston area in which to hold it.”

Looking extra hard at David and Jeremy, I asked, “Are you guys gonna make it a double wedding?”

“Nah,” David answered, “We’ll still be only seventeen, so we’re gonna wait another year.”

“Yeah, but Kurt’ll only be sixteen,” I pointed out, “and you guys will have been together for three years. I mean, if you don’t know by know that you’re right for each other, how’s another year gonna make a difference?”

“But . . . but Trevor will be eighteen, and shouldn’t at least one of us be a legal adult?” Jeremy asked.

“If you’re old enough to go away to school, I would think you’re old enough to get married. Besides, you’ve known since you were fourteen that you intended to spend your lives together. Your parents are all supportive of your relationship, aren’t they? Why wouldn’t you get married?”

“Ooooh Kaaaay,” Jeremy acknowledged. It’s a lot to think about. Anyway, the reason we can’t get an athletic scholarship is that Harvard never gives out athletic scholarships to kids taking early graduation. I can’t even get one for swimming; even if I manage to make the Olympic swimming team, which I doubt I will, I won’t get a scholarship. It kinda sucks. Not that we need one by any means, but we’re being penalized for being smart.”

“Talk about changing the subject!” I exclaimed with a laugh.

I showed my friends around my ancestral home. The views of the river weren’t much to look at this time of year, and the gardens that surrounded the house were barren, but everyone was impressed, nonetheless. After our impromptu tour, I helped the guys get settled in to their lodging, which was a bed and breakfast located adjacent to our property.

After making sure all of our guests had arrived and were settled in, Brian and I retired to our room in the main house, which was my boyhood bedroom. There was little point to our sleeping separately, tradition be damned. We’d been sleeping together since the day we met, and I saw little reason to change that now, just because we’d be getting married in a couple of days. Tomorrow was Thanksgiving, and we’d be enjoying a feast with all of our wedding guests. Thanksgiving dinner would double as our rehearsal dinner.

As I snuggled up with my fiancé, Brian asked me, “You nervous?”

“Nah,” I said at first, but then I admitted, “well, maybe a little bit.”

“Me too, but I think everything will be fine. It’s just us and our families and friends, after all.”

“And my parents’ business associates, and your parents’ colleagues . . .” I pointed out.

“Yeah, well there is that,” Brian agreed. “Just us and some three hundred of our closest friends,” he laughed. “I’m amazed this house is gonna be big enough to accommodate them all.

“My ancestors were very inventive, and they had a lot of foresight when they built the place,” I assured my honey. “Even the kitchen is sizable, and well laid out. The caterers were amazed it has the facilities to handle such a large crowd. Everything will be fine.”

As Brian was lovingly stroking my chest, he got a mischievous look on his face and his stroking reached lower and lower until he grabbed hold of my cock.

“I just can’t help myself, Will, you’re so damn sexy.” He leaned forward and we kissed passionately as he continued to stroke me below. Finally letting go so that he could caress me, our kiss turned into a full-blown make-out session as we ground our pelvises into each other. Soon our kisses became licks, nips and sucks. Before long, Brian was buried deep inside of me, right where he belonged. Everything was perfect in our lives, and we couldn’t have been more content when we finally drifted off to sleep a long while later.

We awoke late the next morning to the most incredible combination of aromas. We were absolutely starved, but our guests kept arriving and, being the gracious hosts we were, we never did get a chance to grab a bite until it was time for dinner, and what a Thanksgiving dinner it was!

The caterers we hired put together an absolute feast. It was as close to an authentic, traditional, home-cooked Thanksgiving dinner as one could have for some three hundred guests crammed into our modest ballroom. I was impressed. Of course, there were the usual speeches, and I was so embarrassed. I also got to meet Brian’s older brother and sister for the first time. They were really nice, just like Brian. They made me feel so welcome, but they embarrassed the hell out of Brian when they roasted him at dinner. It was great!

None of us could move by the end of the day. I wasn’t sure how we’d have room for dinner after the wedding on Friday, but I guess somehow we’d manage. Brian and I could barely mange to lie next to each other in bed, let alone make love to each other that night. We were stuffed to the gills!

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