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Newport - Summer of '22 Book III - Prologue. As Time Goes By • Part V - Excerpt
CJ did his homework before the event. Proper preparation was something he learned while working on the Clinton 2016 presidential campaign and became standard operating procedure for him. While researching in advance of the reception, he learned Thompson's Boat Center had served as the home of Georgetown Crew for near fifty years. Located at the intersection of Rock Creek Parkway and Virginia Avenue on the Potomac River in Georgetown, Thompson's was a public facility owned by the National Park Service.
Standing inside the door, he removed his gloves, stuffed them in his leather jacket’s pocket, and handed it to the girl working coat check. Glancing around the room, he waved at the school’s athletic director. Nearly a year after Patrick Ewing—the men’s basketball coach at Georgetown—gave him an unpaid position with the team, the college sophomore had become a fixture in the athletic department. Although his position was on the books as a tutor for student athletes, he was more often than not involved in recruiting and fundraising.
“What up, bro?” Paul held up a fist for CJ to bump.
“Not much, Parker. And when I say not much, I mean not much. That twenty-minute walk from my house in this cold weather shrunk everything.”
Paul Parker threw his head back; brown, shoulder-length curls bounced as the senior rower and lacrosse player laughed. Although CJ’s duties in the athletic department were centered on the basketball team, he spent time with athletes from different sports. He tutored some, interacted with others during events such as this, and a few like Paul became friends. It was not unusual for jocks to pepper any group gathering in the basement of the Prospect Street townhouse.
“Dude, I can relate.” Paul’s green eyes sparkled as he threw an arm around CJ’s shoulders. “They have warm cider, and I have a flask. If you want some of the high-test stuff we can go in the bathroom, and I’ll fill you up.”
CJ’s laughter attracted attention and he was glad the financial supporters invited to the Rowing Winter Cocktail Reception were not expected for another half-hour or so. “Paul, did you just offer to take a gay man into the bathroom and fill him up?”
“Fuck!” The look of surprise was priceless. “That was innocent, and you know it. Goddammit, Abelló. Why is it you twist anything I say into sexual innuendos?”
“’Cause you’re hot and single.”
“Yeah, well. I’m still not gay, and you’re still married. Where’s Ozzie tonight?”
“We ain’t married. Yet. He’s home studying. Said he’s had his fill of snotty parties for the month.”
“Snotty? I’ll kick his ass next time I see him.” Paul’s comment reminded CJ of the charmed life he led. Even amongst a bunch of jocks, he did not have to hide his sexuality. “Anyway, you’ll be married soon enough. Unless you’re getting cold feet.”
“Nope. Wedding’s still on for June. You’re coming, right?”
“Yeah, you shit. I had to rearrange my trip’s schedule, but I’ll be there. I’m flying out to Athens the following Monday. The rents suggested I leave on Sunday, but I figured we’d all be plastered and recovering. What with Ozzie’s folks providing wine and there being an open bar.” Paul’s family owned an electronics manufacturing business in Rhode Island. They were well-off and had promised their son a six-week trip to Europe as a graduation present.
Being clinical about their relationship, CJ knew they would remain friends after graduation and both would become part of their own old-boys-network—those friendships and affiliations that could be mutually beneficial at points in the future.
They were still chuckling when Carson approached holding a steaming mug. “What’s so funny?”
“Paul just offered to help warm me by taking me in the bathroom and filling me up. I was wondering if he’d switched sides.” CJ’s comment earned him a shove from Paul.
Carson was always an outgoing man but influenced by the Squad’s antics, he had become even more assertive and playful. “Yeah, well, I’ve seen both of you naked, and you have nothing to worry about, CJ. They don’t call him Tiny in the locker room for nothing.”
“Fuck you, Carson. Next time we’re out on the drink, you’re going in. You know, speaking of locker rooms reminds me of something. How come you haven’t tried out for crew, CJ? Hell, how come you haven’t gone out for any sports?”
It was a question CJ had been asked a few times. At one point, he considered trying out for crew since his old acquaintances Avery and Spike had been rowers and so was Carson. “Priorities. Freshman year I got involved in Clinton’s campaign. If she’d won, I knew I was in line to become a White House intern. When she lost, I decided I’d rather spend my time with Ozzie and the family. You have no idea how stressful those months were. Since then, responsibilities have piled one on top of another. I do play on a couple of intramurals teams.”
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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