Thank you for enjoying my story series. I had a wonderful adventure during the writing phase and am pleased to be able to share this with you.
Be sure to add a donation to Nifty.org to your list- Nifty provides space for hundreds of authors and thousands of original articles for your free reading pleasure.
The following is an original story and is copyright by the author and no distribution or replication may be made except with the written authorization of the copyright owner. If you are not of legal age to enter this website you must leave immediately.
Please send any comments or questions concerning this story series to: pjwltx9@gmail.com
This chapter is the final installment in the story of Mario and his recoverry from ther death of his lover and husband Mason Taylor and how he found love again with Peter. The saga continues with the new story of Sam and Mickey, coming soon!
TWELVE
Simon and Peter were standing in the main entrance to the new restaurant, watching the workmen installing the sign above the brightly-colored awning above the front windows. "D'Urban", the new sign proclaimed. Mario was taking photos, Greg and Mickey and their boyfriends Brent and Kevin were applauding, Joaquin and Ross and Lina and Phil Downey were smiling, and a professional photographer was shooting video and black-and-white stills while the society reporter for the local weekly was taking notes.
The society reporter asked "Is there a significance to the name of the restaurant?" Peter was the first to smile and respond "It's a play on words; it acknowledges my partner's hometown of Durban, South Africa, while also referencing our proximity to the big city."
"Ah. Thanks." The reporter clearly did not get it, and Greg and Mickey jabbed each other. "When do you open for customers?" she continued.
"Day after tomorrow" Simon replied in his distinctive South African/British accent. "Our menus are being delivered from the printer today, and a final dress-rehearsal with the new staff will be tonight for an invitation-only supper with about one hundred guests."
"And what is on the menu? Is there a special theme, or a special focus on the type of food?" This reporter was not stupid, just a typical Valley Girl.
Simon responded, "During the week we will be serving lunch and dinner, with a range of entres: salads, seafood, fish, chicken, beef. On the weekends, we will be serving prix-fixe, both at lunch and dinner. Our emphasis will be farmer's market-quality fresh produce."
Peter and Mario were both happy and apprehensive at this new adventure. Peter finally was realizing a dream he had never expressed to anyone, including Mario. Finding a suitable business partner in Simon, he was eager to sell the catering business to his maître d' and get on with the new restaurant.
Simon seemed incapable of being flustered, frustrated, apprehensive, anxious, or annoyed. He was an inscrutable Scotsman through and through, and just took everything in stride. Peter felt like Simon was a perfect business partner. Simon's previous employer, the Prime Minister of the UK, was a partial investor, providing half of Simon's half of the cash to start the business; Simon's parents had also invested. The now-retired PM was scheduled to visit in a month.
Mickey and his boyfriend Kevin excused themselves; Mickey had a million items on his to-do-list for today and was already behind in getting anything finished for the day. The first item on his agenda was stopping in at the office of the recently-elected Santa Monica city council member with a gift basket for congratulations and asking her to schedule a congratulatory dinner with the law firm staff.
Second, he had to schedule the staff evaluations for the law firm: the legal secretaries and researchers, the receptionists, the newest recruits, and the new junior partners all were waiting to hear from Mickey. Mario now had to attend to that annual chore, as he was the last-man-standing of the original partners at Baylor, McLean, and Garza. Mickey shared Mario's anxiety over getting a new partner ready to be able to take over some of the stress of managing the law firm.
Third, Mickey had to confirm the arrangements for the surprise birthday party for Greg. He had already scheduled the new private dining room at D'Urban for Saturday night, and had made sure his boss, as well Kevin, and Greg's boyfriend Brent would be in attendance. Stuart and Raj were invited as well, but they were permanently out-of-town. Since the Mayor had been elected as the new Governor, Stuart and Raj were in Sacramento and both had over-flowing schedules with staffing, legislative agendas, lobbyists, media, and budgets.
Finally, Mickey spent a moment thinking about his boyfriend. Kevin had been in the back of his mind constantly for a couple of weeks; there was something nagging Mickey and he was not sure how to pursue it. Erectile-disfunction was usually something that was an inconvenience to older men, not gay guys in their thirties. Stress, maybe? Timing, maybe? Low testosterone? Exhaustion? A combination of those things?
Kevin's job as a consultant for one of the big old multi-national accounting firms took him out-of-town frequently visiting clients. Over the past six months, Kevin had always come home from those trips exhausted and was never in the mood for sex. Mickey was not a sex freak, but he gave as good as he got; he never begged Kevin for sex, but he also never turned it down if Kevin asked for it. Mickey just could not remember the last time that Kevin had asked for it.
On Saturday night at Greg's surprise birthday party, after the dinner, the drinks, the birthday gifts, the cake and the congratulations and the camaraderie, Mario was saying goodnight to everyone and took Mickey by the elbow and steered him toward the coat room. "Remember the incident with the terrorists when you told me to not make you worry about me?'
"Yes, sir."
"Well now it is my turn. I'm worried about you. What's up?"
"Let's talk on Monday at the office."
"As you wish."
Mickey smiled; he truly admired and loved Mario, not just as a boss but as a genuinely exemplary human. This was probably the best job he had ever had.
Peter was late returning from work and came to bed long after Mario was asleep in the king-size bed in the master suite; Mario turned in the bed and smiled at his lover and said "You know you have a winner?"
"What do you mean?"
"The restaurant. Did you see who was in attendance tonight?"
"Oh, yes. The entire media posse from planet Hollywood."
"Not a bad start, Babe."
"I love you." They kissed and Mario slipped back into a delicious dreamless sleep.
At lunch on Monday, Mario asked Mickey to go for a walk with him to the nearby city park; they grabbed hot dogs from a street vendor on the way. There was no point in alerting any of the staff to something that was beyond their purview. Mickey was unusually morose; Mario said "Just hit me with it. What's up?"
"I have a horrible hunch that Kevin is either getting ready to dump me or is cheating on me or all of the above."
"I'm very sorry to hear that. You are a wonderful man and a great PA and a true right-arm for me; I could not be happier with your work. I really ache to see you in this pain."
Mickey said "Thanks I appreciate all of that. But this is the first time in my life I just do not know what the fuck to do."
"You have spoken to him, of course?"
"Well sort of. He does not want to talk. He always tells me he is too tired or too busy. I can't get through to him."
"There was a funky old Drew Barrymore film in the early 2000's that portrayed the message that if a guy wants something to happen in a relationship, it will happen. If he does not want it to happen, it never will."
"Yeah, I sort of remember that- "He's Just Not That into You" I think was the title. So what is your advice?"
"This is really hard, but let it go."
"What do you mean Boss?"
"Tell him that you can see he is unhappy with the relationship and tell him that you do not want it to be over, but it appears that there is no future for the two of you if one of you is constantly unhappy. A long, long time ago there was a late-night radio talk show with this cool pop-psychologist named Sally Jesse Raphael. One night when I was driving from here to Santa Fe I heard her say to a call-in listener, that every human relationship contains a balance between joy and pain. If the relationship becomes unbalanced in favor of pain, you end the relationship. I do not think it is any simpler than that."
"Wow. I was not ready for that. You just hit me right between the eyes." Mickey looked like he was going to cry; Mario had never seen Mickey express emotions very much, so this was a surprise. Here was a guy who was usually in control, balanced, calm, and poised. Today he was none of those things.
"Why don't you and Greg come over to the house on Sunday afternoon? Peter has the day off and his nephew will be staying with us. We can get you drunk and relaxed and let you sleep it off on the beach."
Mickey laughed. "Deal" he said.
Sunday was warm and mellow; the early winter weather had not yet devolved into the moody wet blanket it usually threw over the coast. Since opening the restaurant, Simon was no longer the housekeeper for Mario and Peter, so Mario was grilling steaks on the patio. Peter had already stirred up an antipasto salad along with chopped fruit. Greg was doubling as the bar-tender; his boyfriend was entertaining everyone with anecdotes of the life of a Hollywood agent. Brent Gibson worked for one of the major agencies in Hollywood; his clients were media stars, not film stars. He had met or worked with all of the most famous in the country and had great respect for the ones who kept their heads down and their faces out of the tabloids.
Sam Stephenson, Peter's nephew, now a junior partner in a sports management firm in Beverly Hills, was enjoying the anecdotes provided by Brent. He laughed along with the better lines and groaned at Brent's admission of pain caused by the demands of the divas in his client portfolio. Sam said he had the same troubles, and as a life-coach for major sports stars, could usually spot the ones who were the most capable of creating trouble early-on.
Mickey had apologized for the absence of his boyfriend; Kevin was in New York with clients, again. Greg gave Mickey a knowing glance but said nothing. Sitting next to Sam, Mickey noticed how Sam reacted when Greg asked Sam about his boyfriend.
"He is absent right now also" Sam replied. "Absent as in I have not seen him in years."
"What?" the group gasped.
"Well to be honest I don't have a boyfriend, but I also don't have a lot of time, as Brent is aware, with so many divas to keep in line."
"You just get your ducks lined up..." Brent began.
"And they all waddle away" Sam, laughing, finished the aphorism.
Mickey had a funny warm feeling, one that he remembered from a long time ago; driving home from the party he recalled how his relationship with Kevin had begun, also on a high note of warmth and the infectious joy of being close to another human- linked with someone to share his life with.
Where had those feelings gone? Had he driven Kevin away? Had those feelings expired of their own? What happened to their love? Was there ever really any love between them? Had he gotten too busy, too involved in his own career, to give Kevin what he needed? Had he ignored the needs, the signs, the signals, the warnings? He hated himself for having to admit, Mario's advice from Sally Jesse Raphael was correct. This time it was unbalanced in favor of pain. This pain would not respond to an Excedrin.
With even more pain, Mickey remembered a quote from "The Girl Who Knew Too Much": She had always prided herself on taking a cold-eyed realistic view of the world. But when she did make mistakes, the results tended to be catastrophic. (Amanda Quick: 2017). What to do about Kevin? Maybe Mario was right.
Three days later, when Kevin returned from his latest trip to New York, the decision was taken out of Mickey's hands. Kevin announced he was being transferred to New York; Mickey going with him was conspicuously omitted. "Oh well," Mickey silently thought, "maybe it is better this way."
By Friday, Kevin had already packed and arranged for his things to be sent to NYC; Mickey asked Greg and Brent to let him crash in their guest room for the weekend. He could not stand the thought of watching the movers carting our Kevin's stuff. On Sunday afternoon, he called Mario and asked if he could drop by the house in Malibu and bring a bottle of champagne.
"What's the occasion?" Mario asked when he answered the door; Mickey did not look like shit, even though he felt like it.
"We are celebrating Kevin's transfer to New York." Mickey was almost able to get the words out without breaking down. Mario and Peter both gave Mickey a long hug, one he desperately needed. Just at that moment, Sam came running up from the beach with his surfboard.
"What's new?" he asked.
Mario explained the bare outline to Sam, without re-iterating the painful parts. Sam grabbed a glass of the champagne and said "Well cheers to that!" Everyone laughed.
Soon enough, seated in the great room, Sam and Mickey were trading stories of past lovers and past infidelities and past hurts; Sam offered to take Mickey out for a drink later in the week. They agreed to meet at Carrol O'Connor's place, "The Ginger Man" in Beverly Hills on Thursday. The place was extremely popular on the weekends, so they wanted to avoid the crowds.
"I want to hear your life story," Sam began. "Uncle Mario thinks you walk on water so I am eager to find out why."
"Well that is a huge compliment" Mickey retorted. "I admire Mario more than anyone else I have ever worked for, or, actually, ever known, so that is huge. I don't, by the way."
"Don't what?" Sam was puzzled.
"Walk on water. I do, however, turn water into wine, occasionally."
They both laughed. They stayed until nearly midnight, with Mickey explaining his lower-middle-class background in the orange and lemon groves of eastern San Bernardino county, where his parents still lived. He had been a typical California kid, complete with skateboard, had gone to public schools, graduated from UC `San Berdoo' as it is known among the locals, got an on-line MBA from University of Phoenix, and had worked for a couple of the big banks in downtown LA before coming to work for Mario at the law firm.
"And what is your biggest life-goal, one that you have never told anyone, that might almost seem magical and unreal to you?" Sam asked. He was smiling as he said it but was also very serious. Sam had a genuine interest in this kid from the lemon groves.
"Well, sort of like you, I want to be a life-coach, I'm not sure what to call it, probably a consultant, with my own firm, not working for some big corporation. I want to be able to set my own agenda and call my own shots, pick my own clients."
Sam replied "And you have never told anyone about that? Not even Mario?"
"No; I guess it seemed too far out of reach."
"Hell, no" Sam retorted.
Mickey was quiet. He reached for his drink, looked at it for a long beat, as if he was trying to find the answer in the glass; then he set it down and reached across the table and took Sam's hands. "The real answer is, I have always been afraid that no one would believe in me or my dreams."
Sam had a very tender glint in his eyes. "Hey Champ," he spoke softly: "I am a believer and I know Mario is and has been for a long time."
Mickey gripped Sam's hands tighter; this was a turning point, both emotionally and personally. "Maybe the truth is I have just never believed in myself."
"I sure as Hell know that feeling" Sam replied. "It took Mario and Peter to drag me out of a deep funk I was in during my undergrad at Sacramento State right after my grandad died; they turned me around and I have been burning up the fast-track ever since." They both laughed.
Mickey thought to himself "I know something else you can burn up Buddy" but just smiled; he did not say anything.
As they walked toward the parking lot to their cars, they had arms around each others' waist, and when they reached Sam's BMW coupe they kissed lightly. Mickey thanked Sam for a wonderful evening, and they promised to stay in touch' which in normal southern California business parlance means you'll never hear from me again.'
Mickey drove home in a light-headed fog. He hoped it was not the craft beers he drank but was a genuine feeling of newness and possibilities; time would tell. The next morning, he noticed that he was the first one in the office; he was usually clocking in right after the receptionists, so was a little surprised. He pulled up the local news on his cell phone to see if there had been any traffic problems, just in case. Everything appeared normal- or at least normal for a late fall Friday morning in southern California. As he was viewing his phone he jumped when it rang with Mario's number in the caller ID.
"Mick, please call the staff together for a meeting at noon. I need to speak to everyone."
"What's up Boss?"
"Well I can always confide in you, thank God, but please don't say anything before the staff meeting. Berniece is in the hospital in ICU and may not make it."
"Oh God." Mickey thought- here we go again: Ted and Tommy all over. Mickey's feelings were always projected at shielding Mario from as much mud and shit and blood as possible so that Mario could efficiently concentrate on managing the law firm. After Berniece's election to the city council, that task had become even more challenging for both Mario and Mickey, but this was a completely unexpected turn of events.
Mickey had a fresh urn of coffee on Mario's desk when he entered the office a half-hour later. Mickey had already alerted all of the morning appointments that they would be re-scheduled to a later date; he had left notes on the desks of the junior partners and had spoken personally to all of the remainder of the staff to invite them to the conference room at noon. When Mario entered the office, Mickey took his raincoat and briefcase, and Mario hugged him and whispered a quiet `thank you.'
At noon, with the entire staff gathered in the conference room, Mario announced "I was hoping and praying that between the time I first heard the news I am about to give you, and now, that things would have turned in a more positive direction, but my prayers have been ignored. I am deeply saddened to inform you that our colleague and partner, Berniece McLean, was hospitalized last night with a possible aneurism, and just passed away a few minutes ago."
There was a gasp across the room as several staff who had worked for Berniece personally felt the impact of the loss; the junior partners especially felt the biggest loss. Mario continued "With the highly capable help of my PA, the always intrepid Mickey Clarke, we will have a memorial service for Berniece here in the office sometime next week. Her family is making arrangements for a private funeral service and we will update you on that as we receive more information. Thank you all for your continued dedication to Baylor, McLean, and Garza; please take as much time as you need this afternoon to arrange your schedules. As we disburse, could I please request the juniors and Mickey to meet me in my office?"
There was a quiet shuffling as the staff returned to their offices; several were clearly moved and were dabbing at tears. Berniece had never been a highly emotive force in the firm, but she was efficient, dedicated to her craft, and one of the most successful and formidable attorneys in Los Angeles county.
Mario began his remarks in his office: "Thank you all for your support at this moment of our joint grief. As a founding partner of this firm, Berniece was a strategic and pivotal personality. We will all miss her, as we also miss Tommy and Ted. Now, to the business of the firm's organizational goals.
"As you are aware, Berniece was the head of our corporate law section; she will leave a large pair of shoes to be filled in that regard. She was also, at one time, the managing partner of the firm. Here is my plan for both of those arenas: as of today, I am asking Terry to take over as head of corporate law, and I asking Mickey to assume the duties of managing partner. I am asking Phillip Winters to take on the task of family law section head, and Sandra Dominguez to be the new head of immigration law. Your stipend as section head will be reflected in your annual compensation; there are bonuses attached, of course, dependent on your new business development. By the end of the month, I want a written report from each of you, Mickey included, on the current state of your section and duties, and your recommendations for any changes or improvements. Please always remember that this is a business: it is not just a warm dry place for you to get out of the traffic on Monday through Friday. We have serious business here for our clients as well as for the firm. Any questions?"
There was stunned silence. Everyone stared at Mario for a long moment, and then slowly began to look at each other. Finally everyone looked toward Mickey, who seemed to be the most chagrined. "OK, team, let's go to work."
After Phillip, Sandra, and Terry left, Mickey stayed and said "Are you sure?"
"What? Making you managing partner? Hell yeah. Do you think you can't handle it?"
"Well it's a little scary. You are asking me to be making some big decisions and to fill some big high heels. I have always been able to clean up behind someone else's parade, but I was never the leader of the parade before this."
"Mickey listen very carefully. Please always remember and never forget, you are a smart guy. Hell, not just a smart guy, but a genius, in certain ways, and you also possess a sense of the right things to do at the right time, and you always have the needs of others in the forefront of your thinking. Being the managing partner of a law firm is not really much different than managing a family household budget- except you will be buying pencils and staplers instead of eggs and bacon. And besides, I am never going to just throw you to the lions; I've done that job and in some ways it sucks but it also carries with it the satisfaction of knowing you are keeping the entire firm running efficiently and smoothly. Yes, I think you are the best guy for the job. And a secret? It does not take a law degree. It actually will be better performed by someone like you with your MBA."
Mickey sat down in one of the big leather guests chairs for the first time. He looked like Mario had slugged him in the face. "Thank you. And in a way I have to say this is kinda unbelievable."
"Why?"
"Never had this one on my horizon."
Mario responded "Well there are two more things to consider- and you can always turn me down, by the way- but there is a salary increase and there is also a share of partner's benefits in this job."
"I'm not going to ask about either one right now. I just want to think about the half million things that I need to start doing as of yesterday. But I hope in time that I can work up to deserving your confidence in me."
On Monday afternoon the firm's accountant asked Mickey to sign some documents; there were papers to sign to transfer Berniece's share of the partnership to her estate. There was also a raft of papers to sign notifying the new section heads of their increase in salary. There was a partnership document to sign, making Mickey a partner and detailing the method of annual partner's benefits to be paid. Mickey failed to notice the letter of notice of salary increase with his name on it included in the letters to the section heads. He did not do the arithmetic until much later in the day as he was clearing off his desk and getting ready to leave, but his salary had just been bumped up to double his PA salary. He had to sit down again; he was afraid he might not be able to drive home just yet.
On Tuesday, when Mario entered his office in the morning, there was a card next to his morning carafe of coffee: it was from Mickey, and simply said "Thanks for believing in me."
The autumn season was pleasant and mellow, or so Mario thought: he recalled that it was Mason's favorite time of year. As the Thanksgiving holiday neared, he reflected on all of the changes, drama, challenges and blessings in his life. This journey, he thought, which began essentially with becoming Mason's houseboy, had travelled across some pretty unpredictable terrain. He had buried his mother and father and his lover and husband Mason Taylor as well as a law firm partner, Ted Baylor; he had graduated law school and joined a small young law firm in the suburbs and had risen to be the sole remaining partner; he had found love anew in the arms of Peter Schilling; he had been blessed with the love and friendship of dozens of wonderful people, including Ross, Joaquin, Simon, and Mickey as well as family members like Sam and Drew and Elizabeth, and had the biggest blessing of all, the warmth and sturdy foundation of this beautiful home on the dunes in Malibu. Standing on the highest dune at the moment watching the changing light as the sun disappeared, with the house behind him, he knew that no matter what, the love in his life was enough. No challenge was powerful enough to destroy him. With Peter at his side and their love enveloping them, his journey could continue to take him through even the roughest seas. He sat down on the sand and did not notice for a moment that Peter had come up behind him and slipped his arm around Mario's shoulders. No words were needed: love is enough.