Newport - Summer of '22 Book III - 1. Arrival & Rehearsal

Although CJ’s plans to run for president of the United States were firm, the steps necessary to achieve his goal were not. During the wide-ranging conversation with Carson on the flight to Rhode Island, he and Owen stressed they were flexible on how to get where they wanted. Some of it would depend on the country’s political climate and which party controlled Congress and the White House during the intervening years. The exchange was conducted quietly to avoid anyone overhearing.

“I’m not sure what’s gonna happen with going back to school or after I finish”—CJ planned to return to Georgetown University for an advanced degree—“but Ozzie and I think the mayoral election in twenty-six might be a good place to start.” CJ smiled at the flight attendant when handed his blazer. The plane had begun its descent, and they would be landing at Rhode Island T.F. Green International Airport shortly.

Carson shook his head. “You guys are blowing my mind, you know? Helping run Bowser’s campaign this year’s gonna give me some good experience. But not being able to tell anyone’s gonna kill me.”

“It won’t, mate.” Owen clasped the man’s shoulder. “It might be great training for when you know national security secrets. And you can always talk to CJ’s dads or his brother; the three of them are in on it.”

“You really haven’t told Brad?” Carson sounded surprised. “I mean, he lives with you guys.”

Brad Kennedy had gone to high school with CJ and enlisted in the Army after graduation. As a Ranger, he was deployed overseas, saw action, and lost both legs when the vehicle he was driving hit an IED. With the help of family, friends, and professionals, his recovery had been arduous but promising. When CJ and Owen settled in Mexico City, Brad moved into their home as caretaker. Still there, he was now their housemate.

“We talked about it and decided the fewer people in on it for now, the better. Brad has enough going on, and we don’t want him thinking he has to do anything but concentrate on therapy, school, and Cristina.” Cristina Pereira was Brad’s girlfriend.

Carson agreed with a nod. “Yeah, that makes sense. I’m happy last time he and I spent time together, it seemed he was doing well in all three areas.”

Carson Sawyer and CJ Abelló met on move-in day their freshman year at Georgetown University. A mutual interest in politics led to their friendship blossoming, and Carson being folded into The Squad—the dozen tight-knit friends everyone considered CJ the leader of. Carson graduated from the McCourt School of Public Policy at the same time CJ received his diploma from the Edmund A. Walsh School of Foreign Service. Carson’s internship in the mayor’s office while in school led to a full-time position as an assistant to D.C. Mayor Muriel Bowser after graduation. Earlier in the year, he had resigned his position and become Deputy Manager for the mayor’s 2022 campaign.

“I hope they have room for all our bloody stuff.” Owen retrieved another suitcase from the luggage carousel and handed it to CJ to stack on the cart. “We tend to over-pack, but this is silly.”

Moments after landing, Carson had traded messages with the groom. “They’re in Mr. Parker’s Lincoln Navigator. That should be big enough. If you think about it, three of us means the same number of suitcases, garment bags, club bags, and backpacks.” Carson smiled when he glanced up from his phone. “The two of you could have packed together.”

“Yeah? Have you seen the number of shoes CJ takes whenever we go out of town? What was her name? The Filipino First Lady with the shoe fetish?”

“Imelda Marcos, and I’m nothing like her.” CJ buffed his nails on the jacket’s lapel. “But if I say so myself, you’ll never catch me wearing inappropriate footwear.”

Owen’s eye roll was not unexpected. “I’m so glad you don’t do drag. I’d be tripping over heels all day long.”

“Okay… If the two of you are done with the comedy routine, Paul and Molly are waiting.” Carson led the way to the exit.

Outside, the greetings were brief; a police officer reminded them there was a time limit on the loading zone. Once all the luggage was in the vehicle, Paul started the engine and drove away. They had at least an hour’s travel time to Newport.

Paul Parker was a fellow Georgetown University alumnus CJ befriended through his involvement with the school’s athletic department. A graduate of the McDonough School of Business, he was a couple of years older than the fellow Hoyas in the car. Carson had been a rowing teammate and was a groomsman. Paul’s fiancé, Molly Fanning, was a Rhode Island native and a graduate of Brown University.

Once on the road headed south, Paul adjusted his rearview mirror and stared at his friends. “So, CJ, bro, you’re still leaving your mark wherever you go. In the last six months, you helped a Russian spy defect, won an Oscar, had your picture on The New York Times Sunday Magazine cover, and rescued your daughter from a kidnapper. The fact you and Ozzie are here’s mind-blowing. I figured the two of you wouldn’t feel like dealing with my wedding bullshit.”

Molly slapped his arm. “Watch it, buster. It’s my wedding too, and I object to you calling any of it bullshit.” She turned to look at the men in the back seat. “I want you to know I happen to agree with him. I’m surprised you guys made it, but I’m delighted. I mean, without the two of you, Paul and I would have never met.”

“What do you mean?” Owen sounded confused.

“If you recall, when Paul graduated, he planned a six-week European trip. Because of your wedding, he postponed his departure. I was on the same flight he took to Athens, planning to spend a month in Greece. We met on the plane and the rest’s history. Instead of a Greek holiday, I changed my plans so we could travel the continent together.”

“Damn! Paul never gave us credit for that.” CJ smirked when the man rolled his eyes. “Can you believe that was four years ago? To the day?”

Owen reached for CJ’s hand and squeezed it. “Best four years of my life and never a dull moment with this one.”

“Wait!” Molly’s eyes could not have opened wider. “Your anniversary’s today?

CJ nodded. “Four years ago, I looked and acted calm, but I was shaking inside.”

“Paul?” Molly’s single word could have been interpreted as a question or a command—or maybe both.

“I didn’t make the connection, babe. But I got it.”

“Good.” She returned her attention to the visitors. “Paul went through that litany of what you guys have been up to, but I’m more interested in how you and your daughter are dealing with the mental side of it. The kidnapping and rescue have to weigh on your minds and hers.”

“Thanks for the concern, Molly. Honestly, we’re doing better than I would have suspected.” Owen glanced at CJ who nodded. “Liebe was a basket case right after the rescue. When she realized CJ would stay in Mexico, there was a lot of howling. It took a lot of video calls and TLC from her grandparents to calm her. She even slept with me the first couple of nights. Once CJ joined us in Miami a few days later, she was on her way back to normal.”

“She’s young, but it may all come back and mess with her later. Any plans for therapy?”

CJ shook his head. “Not right now, but if we notice any change in her behavior, we’ll be all over it.”

“What about the two of you?”

“I about crapped my pants when I got to the apartment. The nanny was tied up, and Liebe wasn’t there. Then I found the ransom note. CJ was a rock. I knew he was freaked out, but he acted as if it was a regular occurrence. He asked for help, which I know it’s hard for him.”

“Not when your safety or Liebe’s are concerned. I’ll take help from anyone then.”

“Are you still that rock? Shooting someone has to be tough to deal with. I mean, had it been me, I hope I’d been able to do the same to protect a child of mine.”

“And that’s why I’m not a basket case.” CJ sighed. “I’ve had a couple of conversations with my dad and Brad. Dad’s a retired Marine, Brad’s a former Army Ranger, and both have killed men. True that was in war, but based on what they had mentioned, the emotional reaction was close enough.”

“Bro, you’re a beast.” Paul glanced in the mirror and winked at CJ. “My dad thinks so too. When The New York Times article dropped, he asked me if I knew you from Georgetown. I reminded him the two of you had briefly met at my graduation. When the kidnapping hit the news, he asked more questions, and I know he read your book and watched the documentary.” Parker slapped his forehead. “Oh, shit! The narrator. The red-headed guy? That’s the Brad you talked to, isn’t it.”

CJ cracked up. “You’ll be fine with him, Molly. He might be a bit slow on the uptake, but he finds his way there sooner or later.”

“Screw you, Abelló!”

Everyone cracked up.

Molly cleared her throat, glanced at Paul, then focused on CJ. “Since he mentioned his dad, I think I should warn you about mine.”

“He a mass murderer?” CJ’s attempt at looking scared was an abject failure.

“Twerp!”

“Idiot.”

“Typical CJ.”

Molly chuckled and grinned. “You guys are nuts. Not quite, CJ. But he’s a Trumper. When Paul mentioned we had a couple of guests coming who’d met with Biden at the White House last week, he wasn’t happy.”

“Crap!” It was Carson’s turn to slap his forehead. “Am I gonna be the only Democrat around this weekend.”

“Paul said CJ was a big shot in Clinton’s campaign. He can keep you company on the liberals’ table; there’ll be a few others.” She glanced at Paul again, and CJ noticed he reached over to hold her hand.

“Go ahead and say what’s on your mind, babe. I trust these guys.”

Molly’s exhale was loud. “Okay, here it goes. I apologize in advance if my dad says or does anything stupid. Mom swore she would file for divorce first thing Monday if he gets drunk, acts up, or messes up the weekend in any way.”

“Bloody hell. Why did you even hear about that? It’s not fair to you. Molly, try to block all that crap out. This is your weekend, and your biggest worry should be not tripping when walking down the aisle.” Owen’s words made her smile. “Trust me, CJ can handle himself.”

“Hear, hear! When Owen and I got married, my biggest worry was our friend, Harley, not being too stoned.”

Carson cracked up. “Half of us were mildly intoxicated by the time we got to the Jefferson Memorial. Harley’s always been generous.”

Once they left the airport, Paul drove south for a short time on I-95, then switched to secondary roads. CJ paid more attention to the passing landscape at that point. He had not bothered with his usual extensive research before visiting a new place and regretted only having looked at a few pictures on his phone.

A road marker made him smile and tap Owen’s knee. “That was a sign for Route 1, Oz. First time we’re on it in Rhode Island, right?”

Owen nodded. “Yeah… I think so. Both times we’ve driven through the state’s been on I-95.”

“It’s a silly game we play, Molly.” Her questioning glance had made CJ chuckle. “Kind of what kids do on road trips with license plates. We have a map at home with pins for the states and countries we’ve visited. I’m pretty sure we stopped in Rhode Island for gas on our way back from Laconia’s Bike Week, but this will be the first time we stay overnight.”

“And what’s the deal with Route 1?”

“We’ve been at both ends of it. When CJ and I first went to Key West, we took a picture in front of the mile zero marker. That’s where it starts.”

“We did it again early this month.” CJ retrieved his phone and scrolled through recent photos. Finding the one he wanted, he passed it to Molly. “We took one in the same spot with Liebe this time.”

She turned it for Paul to see, and he took a glimpse at the phone. “Cute pic; she’s adorable. And that smile of hers tells me she’s doing okay. What about the end of the road? In Massachusetts?”

“Nope. Fort Kent, Maine. On the Canadian border. When we rode the motorcycles to Laconia a few years ago, we toured Maine before heading back to Washington. CJ insisted on riding all the way to the end after we left Acadia National Park.”

“I assume you’ve done the same with I-95?”

CJ shook his head. “Not quite. Ninety-five starts in Miami, and we’ve driven that segment a lot. And, although not all on the same trip, I think we’ve traveled almost the entire interstate. We’ve taken it up to Boston. But it keeps going all the way to Canada, and we’ve not done that section.” Approaching a bridge, CJ thought he knew the body of water ahead.

“This is Narragansett Bay, right?” CJ uselessly pointed to the north. “Isn’t there a sparkplug lighthouse on that side of the bridge? I saw a picture of it and thought it was cool.”

Paul glanced left for a moment. “Yep, we’re on the Jamestown Bridge, and that would be the Plum Beach Light. You’ll see it on the return trip. Once we cross the island, we’ll take the Newport Bridge to town.” Because it was high season, the roads were crowded, forcing Paul to slow down.

“You should hit Jamestown if you want to do a little sightseeing, guys.” Molly turned to look at the passengers again. “There’s a central town area filled with little eclectic shops, restaurants, coffee houses, and stuff like that.

“CJ loves to explore new places. I’m sure we’ll be doing some of it while we’re here.” Owen had mentioned he was fine with anything CJ wanted to do.

After checking in and freshening up, CJ, Owen, and a handful of out-of-town guests watched the wedding party practice for the ceremony.

“Nice dress.” CJ grinned at the woman he had been introduced to and flapped his blazer open to reveal the small horse and rider on the breast of his white, button-down shirt—he had traded the Old Glory jersey for it. “I think Ralph Lauren’s popular with this crowd.” Stephanie Parker, the wife of Paul’s older brother, wore a white shirt dress with the same logo.

David Parker, the aforementioned brother, slung an arm over CJ’s shoulders. “That’s because there are way too many preppy people around. You damn Hoyas are all the same.”

“Hey, watch it, buster. I just met you, so you can’t give me crap yet.” CJ had actually met the man briefly while still at Georgetown.

“Would you two like to ride with us to the restaurant?”

Owen nodded. “We took an Uber from our hotel, so that would be nice. We won’t have to wait around for a car. But can you give us five minutes? We need to call Washington to check on Liebe. She should be fine staying with CJ’s fathers, but I just want to check.”

Although her face was messy, she was fine. Her grandfathers had taken her out for ice cream, and she was more interested in the cup in her hands than talking to her fathers.

The moment David started the car, Stephanie pounced. “Paul said you grew up in Georgetown.”

“He warned me you planned to interrogate me but not about what.” CJ grinned. “Not sure how much growing up I did there. I moved in at fifteen. My dads own a house a block away from campus, and I lived there through college until Ozzie and I married.”

David chuckled. “Steph sometimes speaks too quickly. She should have started by telling you we’re moving to D.C. this fall and need to find a place to live.”

“Really?” CJ wondered why but figured it would come out sooner or later. “You guys want to live in Georgetown?”

“We’re not sure. David visited Paul in school a couple of times and claims all he ever saw was the neighborhood around the school, a bunch of bars, and a few monuments.”

“I’ll answer the question about why we’re moving,” David said. “I’m joining the Parker Electronics government relations team. The woman in charge wants to retire at the end of next year, and she’ll be training me to take over.”

“You’re gonna be a lobbyist?” CJ was interested in hearing details. Parker Electronics, the family business, manufactured components for the military.

“Not a lot of lobbying involved, CJ. We have long-term contracts that will keep us busy for a few years. Our office in D.C. is really all about servicing our customers. Paul’s the salesman in the family. If we were trying to drum up business, he’d be the one moving.

“That’s the end of the chat for now, guys. We’ll pick it up later.” David slowed and waited his turn in the valet line. Casa Vecchia, the Italian restaurant chosen for the rehearsal dinner, was appropriately named. It occupied an old house in Newport. “Since I’m the best man, Steph and I have to sit with the bride and groom, but I’d like to continue the conversation after dinner. We’ll buy you guys a round.”

Some two dozen guests fit comfortably in the private dining room on the second floor, and CJ and Owen wound up sitting between a pair of Paul’s fellow Hoya rowers who were groomsmen. The food was decent, the Chianti was good, and the conversation sparkled. While everyone enjoyed dessert, a few people spoke, and David cracked joke after joke at his brother’s expense.

While everyone laughed and clapped, Paul stood. He did the typical round of thank yous and made Molly blush with his praise. “Okay, I’m done. We can go get sloshed after one final toast.” Grinning, he glanced at CJ and Owen, who groaned.

“Four years ago, I delayed my post-graduation European tour so I could attend a classmate’s wedding. Because of the delay, I wound up meeting Molly on the flight to Greece and the rest’s history. That wedding I mentioned? The ceremony was outdoors at the Jefferson Memorial in Washington, and the reception was at the old Watergate hotel. There, my biggest worry was not saying something stupid that would lead to a Secret Service agent tackling me to the ground.” Paul stopped, sipped his wine, and glanced at the expectant expressions on his guests’ faces. “Oh, did I fail to mention Presidents Clinton and Obama were guests?”

“We could maybe arrange for a couple of agents to tackle you on Saturday night, if you want. We know people.” CJ brought the house down.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, four years on, and you’re still rubbing elbows with presidents.” Paul winked at CJ and returned his attention to the room. “That’s CJ Abelló, and the blond next to him is his husband, Owen Liston. Some of you may have heard about the ordeal they lived through recently while CJ was posted to the U.S. Embassy in Mexico City. President Biden invited them to the White House when they returned.

“Anyway, that was their wedding I referred to, so today is exactly four years since they wed. Molly and I were delighted they came this weekend. Please, raise your glasses, and join me in wishing them a happy anniversary.”

Molly left his side, walked over to CJ and Owen, and kissed their cheeks while whispering. “He mentioned all the presidents on purpose, knowing it would get my dad going. They got into an argument earlier today, and Paul’s on the warpath. I’m marrying a troublemaker.”

Owen cracked up. “Welcome to the club, sister.”

A few guests left immediately after dinner, claiming they had babysitters to relieve. The others adjourned to the terrace for after-dinner cocktails. True to his word, David bought the first round when he and Stephanie sat next to CJ and Owen.

“Going back to our move, my job’s to keep the Pentagon happy. Military procurement’s tricky, and the red tape’s enough we pay a team just to track all requirements. I’ll be in charge of that group.”

CJ raised his glass in David’s direction. “Thanks for the drink. Where are your offices?”

“Crystal City.”

“I know somebody who lived in a high rise there. Some nice buildings. Maybe you want to look at those.”

Stephanie shook her head. “No. If we’re going to live in D.C., I want to live in D.C., not the burbs. And I want a house. We’ll be down there for at least five years, maybe longer, and we plan to start a family soon. I’d rather not raise kids in an apartment.”

“Great Port.” Owen lowered his glass and licked his lips. “I think demographics skew a little older in Georgetown. We’re in Capitol Hill, and we have a good number of neighbors in our age range. CJ’s cousin and his wife bought right next to us.”

“I’ll take a wild guess you guys are near the capitol.”

CJ chuckled. “Smart lady! We are. There’s a Metro station a couple of blocks away, so we can use the trains to get around almost anywhere. It’s one of the reasons we liked the area.”

“Except we can’t take it to Georgetown because they don’t stop there. What are we, CJ? Like ten minutes from the Pentagon by car?”

“Yep. Add five, and you’re in Crystal City. The Metro can take you to both places, but the ride’s a bit longer.”

“Steph and I plan a trip down next month to look at places. Maybe the four of us can get together for dinner one night?”

“Definitely. We’re going out of town for one weekend, but we’ll be home otherwise.”

“Another wedding,” CJ added. “But a high school classmate this time. Ozzie’s parents are coming for a visit too, but that won’t matter. We’ll make time to see you. Do you have a realtor?”

David shook his head, and so did Stephanie.

“I’ll send you the number for a great one, Dasan Turner. He’s a family friend and found us our place. I’ll text him and let him know you may get in touch.”

“We will. Switching gears, are the two of you sports fans? Do you follow any of Washington’s professional teams?” Dave added football was his favorite sport, and he hoped to get season tickets for the Commanders.

CJ and Owen both cracked up. “We own one of the city’s teams!”

David looked shocked. “What? Which one? How come Paul didn’t tell me that?”

“He might not know, mate. We’re minority owners of Old Glory. That’s our Major League Rugby franchise. I played while growing up and still do, CJ liked the sport even before we met, and when D.C. got a franchise, we were invited to buy in.”

“They were looking for diversity in the ownership group and—”

“Let’s go, Brandon.” Jay Fanning, the bride’s father, stood in front of them, not looking very steady, holding a tall glass half-filled with amber liquid.

CJ assumed the comment was directed at him. “Excuse me, Mr. Fanning? What did you say?” He knew exactly what Molly’s father had said and what it meant. He also knew he would strike back, but glanced around first, trying to decide what he could get away with.

“Dad, stop it. You’re going to ruin everything.” Molly and Paul had joined them. When her father shook her hand off his arm, Paul wrapped her in his.

“Leave me alone. I’m talking to the communist. I said: ‘Let’s go, Brandon.’”

Paul sat on the arm of CJ’s Adirondack chair, pulled Molly onto his lap, and leaned in to whisper in his friend’s ear. “Let him have it, bud. Tess and Logan”—Molly’s mother and older brother—“aren’t around to stop him, so he won’t. He’s an obnoxious drunk. Rip him a new one.” The animosity in his voice unmistakable.

A deep breath calmed CJ sufficiently, and he smiled. “What exactly is that supposed to mean, Mr. Fanning?” If he was going to have a discussion with the man, he might as well have some fun. CJ leaned back while scanning the crowd. “Someone here named Brandon? Are you sneaking off somewhere with him?”

The phrase originated during a live broadcast at a NASCAR event when the reporter conducting a post-race interview with winning driver Brandon Brown incorrectly noted the crowd was chanting “Let’s go, Brandon” when what was said was “Fuck, Joe Biden.”

“How dare you?” Jay Fanning had gone from challenging CJ to shouting at him, focusing additional attention on himself. “Typical of a liberal Democrat to assume everyone’s a pervert. I’m not the homo around here. And I’m not a homo sympathizer like all those left-wing presidents you associate with. All you socialists are the same.”

CJ’s smile disappeared. He stood, and at some four inches taller than the bride’s father, stared down at Jay. “No, that would be me. I’m the homo. However, I’m neither a fascist, a socialist, or a communist. And my comment was definitely not a sexual one. Why did you turn it into one?”

CJ stepped closer, intruding into the belligerent man’s personal space. He was pissed. “What I am is disappointed you’d behave this way during your daughter’s wedding celebration and that you’d repeat such a vulgar line. Then again, considering the type of psychopaths attracted to our previous president, maybe I shouldn’t be shocked. You probably chanted ‘Lock her up’ during the twenty-sixteen campaign.”

When Fanning made to reply, CJ raised a hand. “Shut up—still my turn. You’re a disgrace to the legal profession. I realize attorneys are supposed to defend clients even if guilty but to support an attempt to subvert our Constitution is appalling.” Molly had mentioned her father was in Washington on January 6, 2021. “I thought only traitors and anarchists would back an insurrection. You’re a fraud and should be disbarred.”

Jay Fanning was older, shorter, and lighter than CJ. He was also inebriated. His glass fell and shattered on the patio’s pavers when he tried to poke CJ’s chest with a finger. He missed when CJ took a step back, but out of balance, Jay crashed to the ground.

Pandemonium ensued. Owen wrapped his arms around CJ and pulled him back. Molly ran away crying, with Paul chasing her. David took control of the situation. He squatted next to the fallen man. “Come on, Mr. Fanning. You need to get up. I think it’s time you called it a night.”

When the man didn’t respond, David turned him over. His appearance elicited gasps from many of the guests watching the developments. Jay Fanning’s eyeglasses had broken, there was a gash on his forehead oozing blood, and his breathing was labored.

David’s wry grin looked incongruous. “Fucker’s alive; he’s breathing. Just passed out. But considering everything, someone please call 911.”