A Summer Love - 3. Chapter 3

June 13, 1991

I turned the key, locking my condo, and joined JP in the elevator. I was leaving my new world behind, putting aside the thoughts that I'd be completely traumatized by the time I got back here. The limo was waiting to whisk us off to Meigs field, where the Falcon was waiting to whisk us off to Palo Alto. Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous, I thought to myself with a grin. If it weren’t for Stef, I'd be schlepping off to O'Hare and flying coach with the masses. Who was I kidding? If it weren’t for these guys, I'd still be in France.

“Boris Yeltsin was elected President of Russia,” JP said, thumbing through the paper. “That should be interesting. I'm wondering how he and Gorbachev will resolve the sharing of power.”

“Gorbachev does not outrank him?” I asked.

“Well, he's the Chairman of a failing party and the Premier of a disintegrating Union, so I'm not sure that's very powerful. If it were me I think I'd rather be President of Russia.” We chatted about that for a while until our conversation was truncated by our arrival at the airport.

Out of the limo and into the plane, a brief greeting for Stef's hunky pilots, and we were off. “There's an envelope here addressed to us,” I said. I picked it up off the seat and handed it to JP.

He opened it and smiled. “We are invited to join Greg and Stef on their boat next week. You think we can put our work off a little bit longer?”

I smiled at him and grabbed his hand, leading him to the back of the plane. “Christ, Marcel, you just fucked me an hour ago,” JP said, but he was smiling.

“You're not ready to go again?” I teased. “I just thought it would be nice to be back here with you, lying in bed, soaring over the clouds, feeling your naked skin against mine,” I said with a leer. He grinned and we stripped, snuggling up to each other.

“That's nice of Greg. I'm glad he's taking a break to relax,” I said.

JP looked at me oddly. “You don't see the motives, the schemes behind the actions. That's so refreshing.”

“What do you mean?” That was kind of insulting, as if he was calling me naïve.

“You enjoy life and take it at face value. Your joie de vivre, it's intoxicating.” I kissed him gently, then more passionately, and then he was on his side and I was behind him, and in him.

When we were done and panting, he just looked at me and shook his head, making me laugh. “How was that for joie?” I teased.

“I am so tired. It's a wonder I can walk at all,” he whined. I cracked up.

“So why is Greg asking us on a cruise on his boat? You must tell me since I am such a naïve person.”

He frowned at me. “That's not what I meant. You are not naïve. You trust the people you love. There's nothing wrong with that.” He paused. “You are a lot like Stefan was when he was 22. Full of life, full of energy, and full of cum.”

I laughed. “That is a compliment, to be sure. So are you going to explain the cruise?”

“I'm worried that you'll think I'm so smart for figuring things out that you'll want to fuck me again.”

“Just tell me,” I demanded, and started tickling him. He laughed and giggled and tried to get away from me.

“OK OK OK. I'll tell you.” He paused to catch his breath. “Greg has a graduation present that he wants to give you, so I'll bet Stef convinced him to lure us down with a cruise. Stef's real motive will be to get Greg to relax.”

“A graduation present? He's not giving me his boat is he? I do not think I will be able to afford the upkeep on my condo, my Mercedes, and a boat,” I teased, making us both laugh.

“I guess you'll find out next week. So you're OK with spending the summer in Palo Alto?” he asked.

“I do not give a shit where I am as long as it is with you,” I told him. He snuggled into my chest and we dozed off for the rest of the flight.

Escorial, that monstrous home on its own hill in Palo Alto. As the Bay Area filled in with suburban sprawl, it seemed an obscene luxury to have 25 acres surrounding one house. And what a house it was. I walked into the entry way, noticing the changes that had been made. The Great Hall retained its medieval look, but all the other rooms had been redecorated.

I followed JP to his room. He'd redone this room too, not making it bigger, but just updating the décor. “I'll show you to your room,” he said.

“I'm in my room,” I told him. He looked at me funny, and then smiled. JP's “wife” Isidore came breezing in.

“You're home! How wonderful! It is so good to see you,” she said to JP in her native French. “Marcel how nice that you are here too,” she said, giving me a hug. Isidore seemed to get more beautiful every year, kind of like JP, I thought. She had an air about her, an aura of class and refinement, and a natural poise that was entrancing. Maybe I'd fuck her too, I thought playfully.

“It is nice to see you as well,” I responded warmly. “You look more beautiful every year.”

“You are still a Frenchman,” she teased. “Come; let me get you set up in your room.”

“That is not necessary, I'm staying in here.” Isidore looked at me, and then looked at JP, who was blushing furiously. I saw her trying to stifle her giggle, but it wasn't a taunting gesture.

“I see. You are full of surprises JP,” she said to him, raising her eyebrows. He ignored her comment. “Does this mean that you two are a couple?”

He looked at me nervously, and then swallowed. “We are, for the summer.” She got a concerned look on her face, but hid it quickly. Someone who knew heartache and saw it coming, I thought with trepidation.

“Well that is marvelous. Marcel, that makes it even more special, having you around. I should have seen it right away.” She was grinning.

“Seen what?” I asked.

“You two are glowing. Positively glowing. I have to go get Frank; he'll want to see you.” She turned on her heel and strode out of the room purposefully, her giggling audible.

“Do not be embarrassed,” I told him. “She is happy for you.”

“I know,” he said with a sigh. “I'm a private person, and I don't like having people commenting on my personal life.”

“You are embarrassed because you are with a much younger man and you are afraid they will judge you badly for that.” He looked at me, first in anger, then with understanding, knowing it was the truth. “I am not good enough for you that you are embarrassed to be with me?” I asked, teasing.

“Marcel, you know that's not true. You know I love you,” he implored, not picking up on my smile. “Asshole,” he said, when he figured out I was teasing.

“Well look who's here,” came a booming voice. Frank Hayes, my uncle, Robbie's father, and Isidore's lover, all in one man. He gave me a huge hug. “It's good to see you! I'm sorry I missed your graduation.”

“Do not worry about it. I knew you were there in spirit,” I said, trying to allay any guilt he had.

“So now you are deflowering my nephew?” Frank asked JP, clearly ribbing him.

“Actually, your nephew has been deflowering me, so much that I'm fucking exhausted,” JP responded, causing Frank to really crack up.

“Well it's good to have you both back.” And then he left us alone. I followed him and closed and locked the door.

“Oh no you don't,” JP said. “Not again.”

I moved up to him and tried to kiss him but he kept moving his face away from me until I grabbed it with both of my hands. I pushed my lips onto him and felt him respond, first his lips, then his arms around me, and then his whole body wrapped around mine. “Your mouth says no, but you do not mean it,” I teased.

“God damn it, Marcel,” he said, frustrated. Then he smiled, and dropped to his knees, undid my pants, pulled out my dick, and gave me another one of his fantastic blow jobs.

“So it is such a challenge to be with me?” I teased.

“No, it is a pleasure. A complete pleasure. I love sucking your dick. I don't know what it is about you, but I really enjoy it,” he said, as if internally weighing the various dicks he'd sucked to decide where I stood in the ratings.

“What a coincidence,” I said. “I love it when you suck my dick.” He giggled, his cute masculine giggle, and it almost made me horny again.

We'd unpacked and gotten settled in, and I decided to give JP some solitude so I wandered around the house, absorbing its beauty through my eyes. The inside was nothing compared to the outside though. I headed out onto the patio and just relaxed, enjoying the soft breeze that flowed over my body.

“What the fuck are you doing with my father?” I heard, an angry voice, a man's voice. I jumped up and turned around and found myself face to face with Ace, JP's oldest son.

“I love him,” I said lamely.

“Are you fucking kidding me? I'm six years older than you, and I'm his son! What's your game, Marcel? What are you trying to pull here?”

That pissed me off, really pissed me off. “Fuck you. It's none of your goddamn business what we do. What a shallow asshole you are. Is age that important to you? Do you love him so little that you cannot see all the things that make him wonderful?” I was in his face now, chest to chest. Ace is a big guy, and a strong guy.

“I should kick your fucking ass,” he said, almost growling.

“Go ahead. You might be able to. But you're gonna take some hits doing it, and in the end, I will still be with JP,” I said, staring into his eyes. I saw the anger, the spark, start to fade, and saw a calmness return to his demeanor. Ace and I had always gotten along in the past, he was just a hothead.

“You love him huh?” he asked.

“Yeah, I do. Totally. But in the fall I go to Chicago and he stays here, so we only have the summer together.” I heard the sadness in my own voice.

I felt his arms around me and I almost jumped. “I'm sorry man. That was raw. I guess I'm just overly protective of him. He's been so down since Mouse died.”

I hugged him back. “And he will be sad again this fall, but not as sad as me.” We sat down at the table. “So what are you doing home?”

He sighed. “Another relationship down the toilet. I always come home after that. I'm predictable.”

I studied him, weighing whether I should just try to make him feel better or whether I should tell him the truth. “Well, I think you should just move back in. You're not going to have a successful relationship unless you finally learn to control your temper.”

He stared at me and I watched him start to completely freak out and I started laughing. “What?” he demanded.

“See what I mean? You're getting pissed off at me all over again, but you know I'm right. Of course, if I'm right, you cannot be pissed off at me.” He just glowered at me, and then got a small grin.

“I know I'm a hothead,” Ace said defensively.

“It's more than that. You have a real issue with your anger. You can call it that, just say you're a hothead, and do nothing. And you will continue to have these failed relationships.” I was feeling profound.

“Fuck you. What makes you an expert? You're not a shrink.” He was pissed again.

“No, I'm not, but you need to see one. Soon,” I said. He got up, glaring at me, knocked over his chair, and stormed out. I just sat there shaking my head.

JP came up and handed me a beer, then pulled up the chair Ace knocked over. “So you managed to irritate Ace I see.”

“He got angry with me when I told him he had issues with anger,” I joked.

“I don't think it's a good idea to provoke him like that. I don't see how that helps,” JP said, typically sticking up for Ace.

“Am I wrong?” I demanded. He said nothing. “Maybe he is like he is because everybody just coddles him, puts up with his shit. Maybe if someone would have confronted him and forced him to deal with his inner rage long ago, he would not go from failed relationship to failed relationship.” I saw my words hit him as if they were my fists and I regretted that. Not what I said, but that what I said hurt him.

I watched JP go through a number of emotional contortions, the first reaction was to be angry at me, the second denial, and finally, and reluctantly, I could read the acceptance. He said nothing, just looked off at the golden hills.

June 19, 1991

The limo pulled up to the marina and dropped us off in front of the Tonto, Greg's boat. We walked on board to find Stef and Greg there to meet us.

“It is so good to see you both,” Stef said, giving me a big hug. I broke off that embrace and headed over to Greg. I pulled him in, a big loving hug, but I felt something there, something bothering him.

“What's wrong?” I asked, pulling away. He just pulled me in and hugged me harder. I saw Stef out of the corner of my eye, smiling at me, so I just held him, bonding with him.

“It's good to see you,” he said.

“So I gathered,” I teased.

“I'm sorry, I guess I just get out here on my boat and realize that I work too much and ignore the people that I love.”

I looked at him disapprovingly. “Well, you should save your guilt for Stef. I never felt slighted. I guess I'm just not as high-maintenance.”

“Oh you are not, are you?” Stef said, feigning outrage. “JP shows up looking worn out. I would say you have some pretty intense needs.” Typical Stefan. Break the mood by teasing JP.

“You are just jealous that I have this hot, young, boy toy chasing me around.” JP said, winking at Greg so he didn't take offense.

“Is that what you want, Stef?” Greg asked.

Stef frowned. “I have what I want. And when he wants to, I will bet he wears me out just as much.”

I ran my hand through Greg's soft hair in a seductive way. “I'd turn into a bottom for you,” I teased in my slutty voice. “Let's dump these guys.” They all laughed. The yacht sailed while we sat on the deck, watching Marina del Rey fade in the summer haze.

“So if we're going to be gone for five days, where are we going?” I asked. JP looked at them curiously too. It made it so much better that he didn't know either.

“I thought we'd head down to Cabo San Lucas,” Stef said. “It is beautiful there, even though it will be a little hot since it’s summer.” We just relaxed on the boat after that, smoking some weed, drinking, and relaxing. It was paradise.

Stef broke into my reverie. “We will have dinner in an hour. I'm going to go take a shower.” He grinned at Greg and they left.

“They seem so happy together,” I told JP.

“They do. Greg has been so good for Stef. The perfect man for him, someone that offers him unconditional love but is still a challenge to satisfy.”

“Speaking of being a challenge to satisfy,” I teased as I dragged him down to our cabin and made love to him. I was sad that we didn't have much time to enjoy our afterglow, but we had the whole summer.

Dinner was fabulous. Stef had the chef make a gourmet meal for us, way more than I was expecting, or that I needed. We finished eating and just sat there having after-dinner drinks when Greg handed me a manila envelope.

“Happy Graduation,” he said. I looked at him curiously and opened it up. “I wrote you a letter because I was just going to mail it to you, but Stef insisted that I give it to you in person. But I left the letter in because it was easier to express myself in writing.” I nodded and pulled out the letter.

Dear Marcel,

You came into my life six years ago like a storm, so young, so vital, so full of energy and so full of love. You reminded me of the man I love the most, and you still do. I never had children of my own, so like Stef, I've gotten my joy and satisfied my paternal instincts by adopting them. In fact, I've adopted two of them, at least in my own mind; you and Robbie. Stef has Brad, but I have the two of you.

I cannot begin to tell you the joy you have brought to my life. You know how to cheer me up when I'm down, to make me appreciate the good things in life when I'm too busy to even look up, and you've done more than that, you've made me so proud of you. I can't tell you the feelings I had when I watched you cross that stage. I felt like my heart was going to burst, so happy was I at seeing such an amazing young man, someone I love so much, achieve such a formidable goal.

You've never asked for anything, you've only given. It's time for me to give back, and the thing that I have in excess quantity, that I don't really need, is money. So I started putting money aside for you over the last few years, building up a nest egg so you would be able to pursue your academic goals without having to worry about making sacrifices to support yourself. Stef gave you a condo, JP gave you a car, so I'm giving you the money to make sure you can enjoy them.

I love you,

Greg.

There were tears flowing down my face and there was no way I could stop them. I got up and went over to him, almost ripping him out of his chair, and just hugged him, crying on the shoulder of this man who had told me I was like a son to him, and that he loved me. He just let me fall into him, absorbing me, stroking my back. He was so strong, so solid. This must be what Stef felt, this rock that made him strong.

“You're hugging me and you don't even know how much money I gave you,” he teased, pulling me away.

“The letter was worth more than any money you could give me,” I told him, and meant it.

“Well, I'm going to go off to bed,” he said. He was clearly uncomfortable about money, or about how much he gave me, so I hugged him, then Stef, and went back to the cabin with JP and my envelope.

“You're surprised?” JP said, smiling.

“I am. You knew?”

He nodded. “Stef told me. He is so bad at keeping secrets. And it's a lot of money.”

“Really?” I rummaged through the papers. He'd set up a trust for me, which now became my property, so there was the original trust document along with a long list of assets. JP watched me while I went through, looking at all of them and adding them up. “There's almost $10,000,000 here,” I said, aghast.

JP smiled. “More than I thought. That should tide you over.”

“Tide me over? I'm rich as hell. I never thought I'd be so wealthy.” I couldn't believe it.

“Do you feel different?” JP asked.

I thought about it. “Maybe a little freer. It's nice to know that I can do whatever I want, but I guess I'm doing that anyway.”

JP smiled. “Now you know why Greg thinks so highly of you.” He paused, thinking. “When I was a young man, I inherited a trust. Like you, I pretty much had everything I needed, but that money gave me the resources to deal with all the shit that I had to deal with in my life, and to make sure that I could provide for the family that I ended up with.”

“You know what I want to do now?” I teased as I pushed him onto his back and moved on top of him.

“When don't you want to make love?” he said.

“That's exactly what I want to do. I want to make love to you. I want to fill you up with love, physically and emotionally,” I said to him. I saw his eyes change from playful to lusty, and I made love to him with all the skill I could muster. I'm pretty sure he liked it. A lot.

July 23, 1991

The Concorde took off from New York right on time. I was used to it, having flown on it quite a few times now, so I knew that this initial take-off was just the beginning, that soon we'd be over the Atlantic and we'd really kick it in to Mach speeds. JP sat next to me and I reached over to grab his hand.

This summer had been so terrific. It seemed like I was floating through life on a golden cloud, with no bad news, nothing to scar my existence. If there were a heaven, it would be just like this. One thing had not changed. We still had sex constantly. I'd thought that maybe it would be too much for JP, but boy was I wrong. It had gotten to the point where he initiated it as much as I did.

“What's new in the news?” I asked him. He was poring over the paper.

“I'm glad we're leaving the US. First of all, they arrested and charged Mike Tyson with raping Miss Black America.”

I tried to remember who he was. “Is he the boxer?”

JP nodded. “But that's nothing compared to this. They caught this guy in Milwaukee who's gay and preyed on other men. Jeffrey Dahmer. Seems that he'd pick them up, kill them, and then eat them. Or at least parts of them.”

“What? He was killing them and eating them?” I felt my stomach churn.

“Yeah. This ought to do wonders for the perception of gay men in the community,” he said sarcastically. “Looks like he killed between 15 and 20 people.” I just shook my head sadly. “Milwaukee is close to Chicago. Be careful in case he has friends.”

We landed in Paris in a somber mood and caught the limo to our apartment on the Ile de la Cite. I thought that JP and Stef would sell it after we left Paris in 1986, but Stef visited periodically and he wanted a place to stay that was his own. It was just as I remembered it, on the fourth floor with beautiful views of the city. We went up on the terrace and just sat there, enjoying the sights.

“I have to go to the Louvre tomorrow,” JP said. “I was thinking that I can handle things on my own there if you want to go see your family.”

I thought about that. I didn't really want to see them. At least not my parents. And my brother and sister seemed to resent me for leaving them, so those relationships were strained too. “I guess I could make an appearance.”

“You aren't excited to see your brother and sister?” JP asked.

“Not really. The last time I talked to them they were assholes. Like it was my fault they were stuck here.”

“Do they know you're gay?” he asked.

“Yeah. I told them the last time I was here.”

“Do you think that may be part of why they're acting so strangely toward you?” he asked.

“I guess it's just a part of me, who I am. I do not really worry about it anymore.” I paused. “You may be right though. I guess I never gave them a chance to really deal with it.”

“Well, tomorrow you'll have that chance. Hopefully it will go better.” We went out and enjoyed the city after that, had dinner and came back to the apartment. We grabbed a couple of beers and headed up onto the terrace to enjoy the beautiful summer evening. We had just finished talking about the repressive role religion had played in France when a wicked idea popped into my head.

I moved over to him and knelt behind his chair, nuzzling into his neck.

“Uh oh,” JP said, smiling.

“I want to make love to you, right here, right now.” He turned and kissed me. I pushed him away and undid his pants, then pushed him down on his knees. “I'm going to fuck you while we're staring at that,” I said, pointing at the spires of Notre Dame. I pushed into him. “All those men they persecuted, all those men they tortured and killed just for being gay. And here we are, fucking, in sight of their cathedral. Fitting,” I said, and then focused on my task at hand, and on bringing us off together.

July 24, 1991

I walked up to the gritty apartment building and just looked at it for a minute. This wasn't a horrible neighborhood, it was just blue collar. Hard-working people, people who labored with their hands for their money. I had lived here for the first 16 years of my life, but now it seemed completely foreign. I walked in and climbed the steps to the first floor. That was one of the weird things about living in the US. There, the ground floor was the first floor, while in France the first floor was what Americans would call the 2nd floor. I knocked on the door and waited, then knocked again.

The door opened and my mother stood there staring at me. She looked older, perhaps more haggard, than she’d been the last time I’d seen her, a few years ago. She had a look of pleasure at seeing me but then remembered that she didn't like me and covered it up really fast.

“So the prodigal son returns,” she said coldly, motioning me inside.

“Hardly a prodigal Mother. I came by to see you and everyone else.”

“I did not think you cared anymore. Poor Philippe and Eugenie think you vanished from the face of the earth and that you do not care about them anymore.” She was always good at guilt trips.

“If they think that, it is only because you have convinced them it is so,” I said coldly. “Where are they?”

She looked at her watch. “They will be home any minute. They went with Gerard to see an early movie.”

“You did not go?”

“We are not all rich and famous Marcel. Movies cost money. I stayed home so they could go.” It was hard to believe this woman was my mother.

“How noble of you,” I said sarcastically. Just then the door opened and the rest of my family came in. First was Gerard, my stepfather. He saw me and gave me a big smile.

“Marcel! How nice to see you!” He gave me the natural French hug and kisses on the cheeks. “You look so grown up and so handsome.”

“It is good to see you too!” I said, smiling. Gerard had basically sold me to Brad, or at least my guardianship, yet he had been incredibly nice since then. Maybe it was the money Brad gave him that helped.

Philippe approached me shyly, but hugged me as well. He was 18 now, just out of the Parisian equivalent of a US high school. He was a very handsome guy; his only real challenge physically was that he was short like Gerard, probably about 5'5" tall.

Then came Eugenie, also short, and at 14 years old, already blooming as a woman. She gave me a warmer hug, but they were still shy.

“So what brings you back to France?” Gerard asked, and seemed genuinely interested.

“I'm here with Professor Crampton doing some research for a few days,” I said. “I thought maybe I could come over and take you all out to eat.”

Gerard looked at me thoughtfully, then at his wife. “Why do you not take your brother and sister out? I am tired, it is my day off.” They looked even more nervous now. My mother looked pissed.

“I understand. Well then, shall we go?” I asked them. Philippe nodded reluctantly, while Eugenie was excited. We got up to leave and I gave my mother a perfunctory kiss on the cheek, then Gerard. I handed them both envelopes with the equivalent of $20,000 in them. Something to make their lives a little easier.

The car that I had hired drove up as soon as I exited the building, a big black Mercedes, and whisked us off.

“Nice car,” said Philippe.

“So you are out of school now. What are you going to do?” I asked him.

“He wants to go to the University, but Maman will not let him,” Eugenie said.

“Why will she not let you go? And why would you need her approval?” I didn't understand that. He was 18 now.

“School is free, living is not,” he said. “And she complains about money all the time, and how I need to get a job and help out.”

“What do you want to study?” I asked.

“Computers. I love computers,” he said, getting a wistful look on his face.

“Then you should study them. Do you have a computer?”

He shook his head sadly. “No. They are too expensive.”

“And what about you? What are your big plans?” I asked Eugenie.

“I just want to get out of school,” she said.

“She just wants to buy clothes,” Philippe sneered. She hit him. We had some food and I took them back to our apartment on the Ile so they would know where I was if they needed to get in touch with me.

I walked in the door and was shocked to find Stef there. “What brings you here?”

“I thought about you and JP here and it made me so jealous I decided to come join you for a few days. And who do we have here?” Stef asked.

I saw Philippe recoil briefly. Stef is very very gay, a real flamer, and that seemed to make Philippe uncomfortable. Maybe JP was right about that. Maybe that's why he'd been put off before. Still, he remembered his manners and gave Stef the standard embrace. “This is my brother Philippe,” I said, “And my sister, Eugenie.”

Eugenie had no such qualms. She embraced Stef warmly. Then she grabbed his shirt between her thumb and finger. “Is that a LaCroix?”

Stef beamed. A fellow fashionista. “Why yes it is. Do you like it?”

“I do. And it looks good on you.” Wow. She'd have him wrapped around her finger in no time at all.

“What are you doing this afternoon?” Stef asked her. She looked at me and I just shrugged.

“Nothing.”

“Good. I want to go shopping. Come with me.” She smiled, a huge smile, and remembered to look to me for approval.

“You will have a good time with Stefan,” I told her. I looked at Philippe. “So it is you and me this afternoon then.”

He smiled at me, actually smiled, the first smile I'd seen from him in years.