Flying Circus - 9. The Attorney - Part I

Friday, 7 May 2027
Formentera

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, OZZIE!”

Coffee mug held aloft to avoid spillage, CJ kept the cabin’s door open, allowing three vociferous children to sprint inside and jump in bed with their other father. His smile was an automatic reaction to Owen yawning but spreading his arms to capture them. “Happy thirty-fifth, Oz.”

The wish was echoed by the rest of the family as they crowded into the room. Brett handed his son-in-law a steaming mug and sat next to him. “Happy birthday, dude. I’m so glad we could celebrate together. I miss you.”

“What are you talking about?” Sounding sleepy, Owen rubbed his eyes, and yawned. “We see each other almost daily. A heck of a lot more than I see my parents.”

Brett’s sigh was loud. “Not the same, dude. I miss having you and CJ under our roof. And your parents don’t count; they’re in Australia.”

“Come on, Grandpa Cap. We moved out years ago! And I’m telling Mum and Dad you said that.”

“Yeah, well, César turning fifty and you thirty-five’s got me a little nostalgic for the good old days. I remember when you first—”

Liebe interrupted her grandfather’s trip down memory lane. “Ceej, where’s Ozzie’s present?”

“Right here.” He took a small box out of his pocket and passed it to her.

She, in turn, handed it to Owen. “This is from Jeffer, Roo, and me. We hope you like it.”

“We paid for it.” Roosevelt sounded proud of the accomplishment.

Jefferson explained his brother’s claim. “Yeah, we each gave Ceej five dollars.”

Owen placed the mug on the nightstand, ripped the wrapping paper off, opened the box, and retrieved a gold chain with a circular pendant. His smile was radiant. “I love it, guys. Thank you. Come on, group hug again.” The kids bounced closer to their father and wrapped their arms around him.

Ritch elbowed CJ. “What is it? It looks like gold, and if it is, I don’t think fifteen bucks covered it.”

“Hush. They don’t need to know I paid for most of it. It’s the doubloon the Cuban government gave us as a present when we left the island.”

“From the wreck you guys discovered?” While on a Nature Conservancy trip to Cuba, CJ and Owen scuba-dived on coral reefs and discovered the remnants of the Luz de Castilla. The Spanish galleon had disappeared en route to Europe, loaded with treasure looted from Spain’s possessions in the Americas.

“Yep. They tried to give it to us when I was appointed ambassador, but we declined it at the time. Conflict of interest. Once I was no longer a Federal employee…”

“I’ve read what you wrote about it, watched the documentary, and I’m still dumbfounded you guys found a ship full of gold, silver, and precious stones.”

“We were lucky. And anyway, it was Ozzie who saw something shiny and dug it out. Who knew it would lead to me being appointed ambassador?”

“Dude, take some credit for the aftermath. What you accomplished in one year in Havana moved us closer to friendly relations. Listening to our grandparents, and based on a couple of seminars at the Academy, I’d say that’s better than anything anyone did after Castro took over.”

“There was a lot of luck involved in that too, Ritch. From Owen discovering the wreck, to all the people I asked for help coming through. Chipper performing in Havana and the Florida Marlins and Tampa Bay Rays agreeing to play a spring training series at Estadio Latinoamericano kicked it off. It was a hell of a lot easier to talk to government officials once they were smiling.”

Formentera was the smallest of the four main Balearic Islands and significantly less built-up than its neighbors to the northeast. Over half the island was protected from development. Fewer residences, hotels, restaurants, and bars meant fewer visitors. Their anchorage was sparsely dotted with vessels instead of being crowded as Palma had been.

“Mate, look at that water.” Owen, sunglasses atop his head, leaned over the side railing with CJ next to him. “It’s dark turquoise over there near the rocks, but below us, it’s aquamarine. It matches your eyes.”

CJ wrapped an arm around his husband’s waist and drew him closer. “Ready for your annual birthday dive?”

While in Mexico five years before, they had postponed a scuba trip to Belize intended to celebrate Owen’s birthday. Since then, his day had included time under the surface. Not a mindless activity, it required constant monitoring of the dive computer and alertness to one’s surroundings, but after breaking the water’s plane, one found a sense of peace hard to reach on land. Floating and swimming near a reef full of marine life brought joy to Owen. He became an avid diver after moving to the United States; something else CJ had introduced him to, and the Aussie had fallen in love with.

“Can’t wait. Can you believe how clear it is? If I didn’t know the bottom’s meters under the keel, you’d think we could reach down and touch the sand.”

“Let’s not talk about it, Oz. Let’s go diving.”

Following breakfast, Brett and César offered to watch the twins. Between the trampoline, the slide, and the inflatable kayaks they proposed to explore the nearby caves in, Jefferson and Roosevelt would be sufficiently entertained. Liebe opted to ride in the tender with her fathers. While CJ, Owen, and Ritch strapped on tanks, she and Lucy sunned themselves aboard the rigid inflatable. Both had a mask and a snorkel in case they wanted to take a look underneath.

Although not as colorful an environment as the coral reefs they were accustomed to exploring, marine life around the rocky promontories jutting above the surface was plentiful. Their two-tank dive, split for a rest and water break, concluded when hunger struck. They returned to the Flying Circus for lunch.

“How come you took it off to go diving?” Ritch tipped his head toward Owen’s chest.

Owen unconsciously raised a hand to his throat and touched the pendant he had secured around his neck a moment before. “I didn’t want to risk losing it and the darn thing having to spend another few centuries underwater.”

“Considering how awesome visibility was, we would have seen it. But better safe than sorry.” CJ had decreed since it was Owen’s birthday, his husband was relieved of childcare duties. The twins each sat next to a grandfather; Brett and César had agreed to again supervise and assist during lunch.

“How much is that coin worth anyway?” Ritch’s question made Owen smile. His brother-in-law had shown increased interest in jewelry lately, going as far as asking Abuelo Abelló to put him in contact with his jeweler friend in Miami.

“I have no idea how much the kids paid for the bezel and the chain, but at today’s gold prices, the doubloon’s worth under five hundred. Probably sell for a heck of a lot more because of the historical significance. Cheaper than my other present.”

“What’d you get?”

“A house.” Owen’s response made CJ and the grandfathers grin. Instead of making a big deal out of it, the Aussie had mentioned purchasing real estate as if referring to buying a loaf of bread. An inconsequential event.

“Say what?” There was no disguising Ritch’s surprise. “You’re moving? I may want to buy Everhope from you. I like that house. How much you want for it?”

“You can’t buy our house, Uncle Ritch. But Roo and I share one room, so you can take the other one on our floor.”

“Dream on, Flyboy.” Brett’s smack to Ritch’s back resonated loudly. “Those two”—he pointed at CJ and Owen—“have their roots so firmly planted in that house and hood there’s little chance of dislodging them.”

“Then why the fuck did you buy a new house?” The moment he said fuck, three small hands were extended in his direction. “Nope. I paid for an entire trip’s worth of cussing already. Where’s the new place?”

“The other side of their courtyard.” César shocked his younger son again.

“Wait! So, Rod and Taisha own the one across the alley, and now you buy the one across your courtyard? Sounds like that enclave CJ mentioned a long time ago is in the works.” Ritch smirked when he glanced at his brother. “Have you named it yet?”

“Nope. It’s Owen’s, so he gets to decide what we call it.”

“The Annex.” Owen and CJ had informally referred to the property that way, but the Aussie had just made it official.

“You guys need to backtrack. You sank a few million into your place, and considering what D.C. real estate was going for last time I looked, this one probably cost as much as Everhope.”

CJ shrugged. “More once we make a few changes we’re thinking about.”

Owen took pity on Ritch. “When CJ was elected, we divested our crypto investment and wound up making more money than we’ll ever get to spend. I think we’re worth almost as much as the Grands these days.”

César’s nodding confirmed the assumption. Since he did a final review of all of CJ’s disclosures, he knew more about their finances than anyone else.

“Although not required to do so, your brother insisted our remaining stocks and bonds portfolio be placed in a blind trust. He wants to prevent anyone from claiming there are conflicts. So, aside from a few direct investments like the rugby team, the restaurants, the bakery, and the fashion business, we’ll probably accumulate real estate from now on. If it worked for the Davenports decades ago in California, it can be a safe harbor for some of our money.”

“What do you plan to do with it? Guest rooms? Vacation rental? Bed and breakfast?”

“Not a B and B, bro. We’re not ready to run a hotel quite yet. And anyway, we have our eyes set on a couple of houses on North Carolina for that.” CJ must have noticed Ritch’s confusion. “Not the state. The street bordering our block.” The properties sharing the cross-shaped alleys with Everhope were sandwiched between 10th and 11th Streets on the east-west axis and North Carolina and Independence Avenues to the north and south.

“So, what are you using the place for?”

“Office space.” Owen was enjoying the constant surprise on Ritch’s face.

“The whole house?”

“We need it, bro. We’re running out of space.”

“Spare me, CJ. You have plenty of room. How much remodeling are you planning for The Annex?” Ritch grinned when he used the moniker.

Brett shook his head. “I don’t know why they buy old houses; they’re gutting that one too.”

“Really? What are you doing to it?”

“No detailed plans yet. We have to hire a space planner, an architect, and an engineer to help us. Ozzie and I have a couple of interviews set up for when we return.”

“Here’s a rough idea of what we’re thinking after we gut the inside. Replace the staircase with a spiral one to save space. Bust out the wall on our courtyard’s side and install windows and glass doors; we’re tired of staring at that brick expanse. Inside, we’ll build a reception and waiting area, a conference room, a staff break room, a couple of small offices, and larger ones on the second floor. We’re also making it ADA compliant because of Brion.” The Americans with Disabilities Act aimed to make public spaces accessible to everyone.

Liebe was paying attention to her fathers and uncle. “Wheelchair Guy!”

Calling their assistant Wheelchair Guy surprised Ritch. “That’s not a nice way to refer to a handicapped person, Liebe.”

“But he asked us to do it, Uncle Ritch.” Her explanation was supported by her fathers nodding.

“He did, bro. He even uses it as his email address. We call him Wheels for short.”

“Really? Guess I haven’t paid attention when he’s sent me stuff.”

“He has a couple of them like CJ and I do. We use Everhope dot net for business. For my consulting and all the pies we have our fingers in. We use our Squad addresses for personal stuff, and CJ uses his DC dot gov one for mayoral things.”

“City mayor, environmental consultant, Everhope Enterprises, Everhope Media, Everhope Productions, professional sports… Your lives are too complicated for me. No wonder your daughter’s a little overachiever herself.” Ritch winked at his niece, and she blew him a kiss.

“Think of the books, movies, speaking engagements, and similar stuff as our side hustles.”

“Bull! A side hustle’s driving for a ride-share company or a food delivery service. You guys are establishing a conglomerate. Must be raking in the money.”

“We do okay.”

“Oz, can we go swimming?” Liebe had at last lost interest in the conversation.

Brett jumped out of his seat. “That’s a great idea. Come on, kids. All the toys are still out. Who wants to ride down the slide with me?”

Screaming at the top of their lungs, the three left the table and rushed to the staircase leading to the top deck.

Owen glanced at CJ and jerked his head toward the side. “Go. Grandpa Cap can’t watch over all of them once they’re in the water.

“HEY! You three delinquents, wait for me.” Moments later, a blur recognizable as CJ because of the dark body hair, was seen dropping down the side.

“I wanna jump off the side like CJ.”

“Me too!”

“Let us out, Grandpa Cap.” Brett had trapped them at the slide’s top.

“No fricking way. This train’s leaving the station.” Screaming preceded a large splash.

Lucy giggled while Ritch chuckled. “Your father’s as much a kid as those three.”

“Now you notice?” César sounded incredulous. “You guys realize this is our last chance to play with the toys? Tomorrow we’ll be at sea most of the day. What do you say we join them?”

Nods and napkins dropped on the table, were the response. César, Owen, and Ritch headed in one direction, while Lucy went in the other.

“You don’t want to jump off the side?”

“Ritch, I’m wearing a bikini. What are the chances my top would stay on when I hit the water?”

“Oh… I wouldn’t mind.” Ritch grinned while Lucy scowled.

César surprised everyone when he stood on the edge, arms spread with his back to the water, and jumped. The full revolution in the air before breaking the surface made his grandchildren go berserk, cheering.

“Where did you learn that move?” Treading water, Owen fist-bumped his father-in-law.

“I dated a diver in college.” César shrugged. “He taught me a few moves.”

“I bet he did.”

Owen would not allow the kids to jump off the side, and CJ supported his decision. When they brought up cliff diving a few days before, he pointed out the boat’s upper deck was several magnitudes taller. He did encourage them to use the slide as much as possible, and César, Brett, and Lucy followed them around as they climbed and descended with barely a break in between.

A bit later, while Owen, CJ, and Ritch clung to the trampoline ropes, the grandfathers took the twins out on the jet skis. Lucy and Liebe stuck together and alternated with the men.

Ritch revisited the previous conversation. “Are you making the new place energy efficient like Everhope?” When they rehabbed their home, Owen insisted it qualify for as high a LEED rating as possible. Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design was the most widely used green building rating system.

“Yeah… Solar roof, water collection, and gas-powered backup to the battery wall. We’re considering digging under the carriage house and moving mechanicals for both houses there.”

“What would you do with the extra space in the basement? Expand the wine room?”

“Nope. Still big enough for wine bottles, but it’s turned out to be impractical when we have more than three or four people down there. We’re thinking about creating something like a speakeasy. Since we darkened the room to protect the wines from too much light, it sort of has that vibe already.”

“You guys better invite me to the grand opening. Any other changes to the main house?”

“Only a little redecorating. We commissioned Fuzzy, the husband of the twins’ surrogate, to make new bunks for the boys, with a trundle pullout for when Raish spends the night.

“When we moved the boys to the floor below ours, we offered each a room, but they insisted on sharing one. We’re just making it official.”

“Bet Rod and Taisha like dumping their kid with you.”

“Not really. She complains all the time. At least she gets to spend lots of time with Liebe.”

“The nanny and the bodyguard still sharing the carriage house apartment?” The couple had been hired after their return from Cuba to watch over the children when CJ and Owen were not around. As a condition of employment, they were required to live on the premises. The accommodations were part of their compensation package.

“Yep, we’re left with only one free bedroom on Liebe’s floor, assuming the boys will sooner or later want their own. The carriage house apartment will eventually be for guests, and the other room we’ll keep open in case we foster again.” Their friend Dragon, a social worker, had called on them several times to provide emergency care for children in the welfare system.

After a while, the kids began to fade and asked to get out and nap. Once they had gone to sleep, the adults sat inside to escape the afternoon heat.

“Could I get a club soda with a lime?” Lucy’s response to Kim taking drink orders surprised Owen.

“No alcohol?”

“I think there’ll be plenty of drinking tonight, Ozzie. I’m smaller than all of you and need to pace myself.”

“You want to go take a nap?” Ritch wiggled his eyebrows eliciting chuckles from his companions.

Owen shook his head. “Not if what she’s looking for is to be alert later, Ritch. That nap might just tire her out.”

Lucy blew her boyfriend a kiss. “I swear you guys together are better than most comedy acts. Let’s change the subject. Are you looking forward to spending time with your family when you drop the kids off in Australia?”

CJ replied before Owen could. “He won’t have a lot of time with them, Lucy. He has meetings before we fly to New Zealand.”

Ritch looked confused, something he had done often since arriving in Spain. “Business? Consulting job?”

“Not a consulting job but maybe business. The family that owns the vineyard and winery abutting ours wants to sell, and Spencer thinks CJ and I should buy it with him. Dad’s not too enthusiastic about the prospect.”

“How come? Couldn’t that help increase output? I know that’s why you guys don’t export.”

“It could, Ritch. Spencer’s plan calls for production from those vines to retain the Wattle Wines brand, adding by Liston to it. At some point, the two labels could be merged. I’m hoping to mediate between Spence and Dad. If our father doesn’t come around, Spencer may decide to strike out on his own.”

“With the two of you bankrolling his new operations. Bet that would make for interesting family gatherings.”

CJ had read Spencer's proposal and expressed interest in exploring the opportunity. “We wouldn’t fund the whole thing, bro. We’ll talk to Spencer more when he brings our brood back to Washington, but most of the purchase price would be financed.”

“Anyway, Ritch. I’ll spend a day with the family and visit Wattle Winery, but I also have a meeting the following day at Taronga Zoo in Sydney.”

“Really? I loved that place when I was there. What are you seeing them about?”

“Okay, so you know about our kids’ fascination with zoos. You can toss Raish into the mix. We visit the one in D.C. so often staff members recognize us when we show up. That, combined with our financial support, led to the Smithsonian inviting me to join the National Zoo’s Advisory Board.”

“I’ll guess an unpaid, volunteer position.”

“It is. Hell, it’s gonna cost us money for me to sit on the board.”

“Isn’t that par for the course? Aren’t board members of not-for-profits expected to support the organization?”

“We’re talking real money, Ritch.” Owen sighed, trying to think of a concise explanation. “Liebe’s been nuts about zoos since we lived in Mexico. The twins have become just as enamored with the place, but every visit ends up with them complaining.”

“About what?”

“Lack of Aussie fauna. They have a couple of wallabies, a handful of birds, and that’s it. She wants koalas, kangaroos, and platypuses. So, we’re taking a page out of Bezos’ book when he funded a big-ticket item at the Air and Space Museum a few years ago. I’m sure you remember that. We’ve started a convo about building an entire Australia exhibit.”

“Bezos got a big space named after him.”

CJ decided to finish the explanation. “Jeff’s agreement’s one of the few of the type made public. We’ll do something similar. We’ll give them a few million dollars, they’ll build the space, and we’ll get to name it. The politics of naming rights can be tricky, bro. Think of all those places named after people who turned out not to be the upstanding pillars of the community they were seen as.”

“Okay, that’s more detail than I needed. So, you’re going to the zoo in Sydney to buy animals.”

“Yep, he’s an Air Force officer. Too dumb to be a marine.”

“Fuck you, Cap.”

“Ritch, all I’m doing’s meeting a few people. Taronga’s worked with the San Diego and Brooklyn zoos before, and I’d like to foster a similar relationship with ours. Maybe I can serve as a bridge between the Aussies and the Yanks.”

“A toast…” Before the first course was served, CJ glanced at the family gathered around the dinner table, and raised his glass. “To my unicorn. I’m so glad I found you, Oz. Thank you for making my life complete.”

“Hear, hear!”

“Happy birthday, Ozzie.”

“To you, brolaw!”

“Happy birthday, Daddy.” Liebe calling her father something other than his first name was unusual. She seemed to do it at sentimental moments, and CJ had speculated she sometimes did it to manipulate her parents. Whenever she called him Papi, he and Owen assumed she had an ask.

When the initial dish arrived, the twins had the same reaction. “Slimies!” Roosevelt took it one step further. “What kind of slimies are they? I never had these before. Are they good?”

“Escargots à la Bourguignonne.” Kim’s reply visibly confused the boys.

“Those are snails, Roo.” Owen checked to ensure they were small enough for the boys to eat whole.

“I like them.” Liebe had started before anyone else. “Lots of garlic, and I think the liquid’s white wine.”

“Excellent, Munchkin. It’s a traditional French dish. Proud of you, kiddo. For identifying the ingredients and for being willing to try something new.” CJ did sound proud.

Once the escargot was consumed, the staff cleared plates and brought out the second course. “Lomo de venado y papas al ajillo. Please excuse my lousy Spanish.” The red, medium-rare slices of venison and the garlicky purple potatoes looked delicious. “And this is a soufflé made with Cabrales. Enjoy.”

“Right up your alley, Oz. Meat and potatoes with a side of cheese.”

“That’s simplistic, Ceej. You make it sound like a Big Mac with fries.”

“Same thing, babe. Maybe a little elevated.”

“What I want to know is why they served a better wine with your birthday meal than with mine. This red’s amazing.” César winking at Owen was his signal he was not being serious.

“Sorry, Grandpa A. We’ve had the Vega Sicilia before, and I asked for it. But at over five hundred a bottle retail, it’s not something we drink on a regular basis.”

Brett sputtered and had to wipe his chin. “Five hundred? So, you two decide to order it on my dime? Sounds like when someone gets the most expensive dish on the menu because they’re not paying.”

“Shut up, Grandpa Cap.” The simultaneous response from the adults made the kids giggle. The fact Lucy was part of the reprimand made Owen feel good. She became more a part of the family every day.

Dessert, a classic fruit tart with a buttery shortbread crust, a creamy vanilla custard, heaps of fresh fruit, and a single candle in the middle, was served while the crew sang “Happy Birthday.” The chef came out of the galley to slice and serve after Owen blew out the candle.

While the kids drank milk, the adults enjoyed a dessert wine. When done, they adjourned outdoors, and the men lit cigars. “Thanks for the trip, Grandpa Cap. This has to be one of the best birthdays ever.” Owen smirked before kissing CJ’s cheek. “For once, I think my celebration’s gonna be a bigger deal this year than my husband’s.”