The Sunday Club

By: Nicholas Hall
(© 2022 by the author)

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

nhall@tickiestories.us

Chapter 17
 

“The six years Johnny attended the seminary were formative years for the Heirs and the Original Sunday Club. During that time, we lost Uncle Lou and Vinnie Rosetti. I decided we needed to make certain the remaining members of the original Sunday Club were well taken care of and attended out Sunday gatherings for support and for us to have the opportunity to not only check on their welfare, but to express our gratitude for all they have done for us. Now, it’s our turn to do for them.”

 *******

Hardy and I continued to run the business interests of Uncle Lou including the restaurant. He had many other investments and business ventures as well. Skip, with his realtors’ license and property appraisers license, worked part-time selling real estate for a local firm and did property appraisals as a side-line business. He kept his eyes open for what he thought would be good property investment, at a reasonable price and produce a nice return. The four of us, Hardy, Skip, Skeeter, and I, would consider the property, cash flow it, and if it seemed good, bought it as Limited Liability Company therefore shielding all other assets each of us held from forfeiture if something should go amiss.

“Uncle Lou’s” was just as busy as always, perhaps more so as our community grew and tourism picked up in our area. If Johnny was home on a break to visit his grandparents and family, he’d work as well. He seemed as happy as a clam, yet I could sense some restlessness in him. Perhaps the whole idea of celibacy was weighing heavy on him.

After checking in with his grandparent, he’d track me down, embrace me, holding me close, and tell me how much he loved his big brother. He knew I’d be there for him whatever happened and under any circumstance.

The largest actual property deal was made in 1970.  Monday was usually our day off, closing “Uncle Lou’s” for the day. We’d had a rather busy Sunday lunch and dinner, with nice crowds. Even though it was early October, the day was sunny and warm. Hence, our deck was inviting and full most of the day and into the evening.

We close at eight on Sunday’s since it seems to ease off by then. Hardy and I shower shortly after coming home, washing the “people” stink and restaurant odor from our bodies. It always took longer for Skip and Skeeter to arrive home. Skeeter and his mom were really particular concerning cleanliness. Skip always stayed to help and relax as well. Generally, he played and sang during the afternoon and early evening. I thought, and so did the rest of us, Sundays were family days and music seemed appropriate for the day. This particular Sunday, he had a small combo, a group of high school students he was working with, helping him out and giving them experience. They played a variety of music.

I heard the downstairs door open and knew Skeeter and Skip would be coming up to their room shortly. They’d poke their heads into Uncle Lou’s room to check on him, tell him good night if he was still awake, and then come to bed.

Uncle Lou usually waited up for Hardy and me to come home and visit with us concerning our day and how the business faired. We’d relay the small anticdotal  bits and dabs we’d heard or witnessed from the day. We’d visit just a short time before he’d yawn and I’d suggest he get ready for bed. Without commenting, I’d follow him to his bedroom, wait until he went to the bathroom, and when he returned, help him disrobe and get ready for bed. Oh, he could do it himself, but it could be a struggle depending on his arthritis. He didn’t object to my help, in fact welcomed it because, “it gave me more time with you, Billy,” he would say every now and then.

Hardy and I stripped to our usual nakedness, crawled into bed, and cuddled up. I’d just leaned closer to give him a kiss when a light knock on the door frame alerted us to company. Both naked, Skip and Skeeter walked in and joined us in our bed. Good thing we had a king-sized bed! They wiggled their way in-between us with Skeeter next to Hardy and Skip next to me.

“Something came up a couple of days ago,” Skip began.

Interrupting, I commented, “If you mean your dick,” shifting my body slightly since Skip’s prodigious prick was prodding my hip, “it comes up on a regular basis with little or no provocation I would suggest.”

“Well, there’s more!”

“Frankly, Skip, I don’t think I could handle any more. I’m amazed Skeeter can!”

“He’s used to it and loves it!”

“No lie there!”

“This is serious business, Billy!”

Reaching down, clasping a hand around Skip’s thick and long shaft, I asked, “You think this isn’t something serious?”

Skip chose to ignore me, but I did feel his cock throb and swell a bit.

“This is about a land deal I came across when I visited with one of my fellow musicians who is also a realtor. It’s something we really should check out and possibly make an investment in.”

Skip had our attention now and it wasn’t centered on his cock!

“There’s some property which will be coming on the market before spring; sooner if there are prospects for a sale. I think we should consider buying it before it goes on the market.”

“Why?” questioned Hardy.

The property in question was the Willis farm and property. Evidently Fred Willis wanted to retire and no one in his family was interested in taking over the family farm or dealing with the aftermath. Fred decided rather than argue or fuss about it, he’d just sell it and when he was dead and gone, let the family fight over the money instead of the land.

The property consisted of two parcels; the main farm consisted of four hundred acres of good to excellent farm ground and the second parcel, one hundred sixty acres of timber lands. There was a house, in good condition, on the main farm with good outbuildings, several grain storage bins, a hog house and pen, chicken house and yard, and cattle shed. Skip checked out the financial returns as best he could and, according to him, sale of grain, mainly corn and soybeans, along with crop subsidies, the farm was profitable although for years Willis claimed it wasn’t.

“The main farm is adjacent to and contiguous to a farm owned by Uncle Lou. Billy, one of your cousin’s farms Uncle Lou’s farm.”

“It isn’t one of those Uncle Lou owned jointly with Pudge and now you?” I asked concerned it might hinder future operations.

“No, it is owned solely by Uncle Lou.”

“How about the other section?” Hardy asks. “Where is this timber land located?”

“The timber portion is adjacent and contiguous to the property Tallywackers is on and would be a perfect expansion of hunting areas and provide a buffer for any future development, if it should occur.”

“How much?” Hardy inquired.

“The average price per acre right now in our county is a little over four hundred twenty-five dollars. I think if we offered Willis five hundred for the main parcel and two hundred for the timber parcel, he’d take it. If not, we could raise the main parcel to five-fifty or six and still be ahead.”

“How would we finance it?” I asked.

“We’d form an LLC, a Limited Liability Company, to protect our personal assets. The company could borrow from the bank or the Feds. There are several Federal secured options available. At the outside, it would cost us around two hundred seventy thousand. We can drop our rates if we could put up, say, half of that. I can handle my part and Skeeters.”

“There’ll be five us in the company since we’ll include Johnny,” I advised.

“Okay, then we divide up the costs five ways.”

I thought a moment, looked over Skip’s body to Hardy, noticed him give me a slight nod. He kept closer account of finances and did a damned good job of it. If he said we could swing the deal, then we could!

The deal was sealed!

Not being one to miss an opportunity, Skip turned on his side, his back to me, pulled Skeeter closer, and proceeded to nudge that small, but welcoming opening in Skeeters’ ass, until with a slight push, he buried his cock to the hilt. Skeeter never let out a sign of pain, only of pleasure. Hardy, deciding to add himself to the mix, did an about face, ending up in a sixty-nine position with Skeeter and slurped Skeeter’s cock into his mouth, prompting Skeeter to do the same. I wasn’t about to be left out so once Skip developed his rhythm, I seated myself up his inviting and nice ass and went along for the ride!

It wasn’t long, with Skip’s expert provision of action, until I felt the muscles in his anus begin to contract, his soft voice announcing, “I’m cummin’” and his push forward, shoving his big cock into Skeeter until it would go no further, I felt my own orgasm grow. I pushed into Skip, arching my back to increase my depth, allowing each contraction of his anus and bowel to milk my own cock and balls of treasure. I know, at the same time, Hardy and Skeeter were tasting a thicky treat as their mouths and tongues worked the other’s cock.

The next morning, Hardy and I headed out to visit with Mr. Willis. Hardy is great at negotiations and a damned good listener. Mr. Willis would come to “Uncle Lou’s” every so often for a fish fry and sometimes at noon for a burger and a beer. He knew us and we knew him. In fact, he’d watched us grow up!

We spent the better part of three hours with Mr. Willis, mainly listening to his grousing about his children not wanting to take responsibility for the farm and the land. Hardy did little to comment on the situation, only to nod, say “I see,” and “hmmm!” When Mr. Willis commented sadly, he’d be sorry to see the farmland not farmed, Hardy immediately assured him that’s exactly how we felt as well and were determined to find a good steward for the property.

“How about that cousin of yours, Billy?” Willis suggested. “He farms right next to me, you know on that property Lou owns, and is a damned good farmer. Couldn’t ask for anyone more reliable and caring about the farm land.”

“Great idea!” I acknowledged. “I’m certain he’d jump at the chance.”

We bought the home place, the four hundred acres, for five hundred fifty dollars an acre and the timber land for two hundred dollars an acre. All parties were satisfied with the deal and the financing came about as Skip predicted.

It wasn’t the last investment we made in our area over the years. We invested wisely, I think, considering how well they turned out. Of course, we did pyramid some of our investments by using the equity in one piece of property as collateral to purchase another. Out debt to asset ratio was excellent and we paid back into the mortgages as soon as we could in order to pay them off.

Not all investments were in partnership with Skeeter and Skip. In fact, most of ours was a partnership between Hardy and me. You see, two guys couldn’t marry at the time (it was illegal), but nothing prohibited us from forming partnerships with right of survivorship. We also gave each other the power of attorney for health care. Both our names were on the checking accounts, savings accounts, ownership of all vehicles, boats, and property deeds. I wanted to make certain if anything happened to me, Hardy would be well taken care of. I do love him so, and it is returned many times over!

*******

Vinnie died in 1972. Buzz and Mooch hoped to purchase the shop, but a nephew, who had a small shop in another city, decided he wanted it. Strange as it may seem, Vinnie left everything, which wasn’t much outside the shop, to his young siblings, two brothers and a sister. Uncle Lou was convinced one of the three or perhaps all three, convinced him to change his Will since it was only three years old.

Buzz and Mooch were quite disappointed at first, but decided, in the long run, it was for the best. They extended the building “The Bike Shop” was in to accommodate the increase in business and inventory and added another addition to house their small engine repair business. Mooch continued to work as a nurse so they had a steady income coming in, but it became apparent, for the two businesses to prosper, Buzz would need some help.

He worked out an agreement with the Community College to give several students per year experience in auto repair and, with Mooch’s knowledge of so many people who’d called upon his services as a nurse, found some high school boys willing to work and learn the bike repair business. Over the years, the two of them prospered and were well-rewarded for their efforts and time with the students. Need I say more?

The real blow came in 1974 when Uncle Lou died suddenly! I went downstairs that morning, made the coffee, and while it was brewing went to his bedroom to check on him. Usually, he was awake and getting dressed, waiting for me to help him if he needed it. This particular morning (I’ll never forget it), opening the bedroom door, he was still in bed! I knew, just looking at him, he was no longer among the living! He looked so peaceful, laying there, still covered, eyes shut!

Hardy heard my startled call and joined me. We decided to call Mooch, woke him (he’d worked a night shift) and asked him to come over, explaining what we’d found. He was barely dressed as he and Buzz bounded into the house and bedroom.

A quick check confirmed what we knew. He called the county coroner and the police since it was an “unattended death” and assured Hardy and me he’d take care of everything. Good thing, Hardy and I were at a loss what to do, so distressed at our loss, it was difficult to think straight. I did think straight enough to I call Grandpa Thompson and tell him. He arrived before the police and coroner so had some time alone with Uncle Lou to tell him how much he loved him and would miss him. Grandma Thompson sat by his side, her arms around her husband, comforting him and herself at their loss. Uncle Lou and Grandpa were so close even though Uncle Lou was eight years his senior.

We knew the funeral would be large since he was so popular and the funeral director didn’t know what church would be able to accommodate the crowd. Uncle Lou didn’t have any church affiliation; in fact, I don’t think I ever saw him go to church!

Hardy suggested just giving the general public the opportunity to attend the visitation at the funeral home, extending the hours if necessary and have the actual funeral service private, for family and invited guests only.

Uncle Lou was a great supporter of the Salvation Army so we asked the Chaplin there if he’d perform the service. He didn’t hesitate one minute in agreeing to do so. Actually, there were several other ministers from other churches joining him at the service. It appeared Uncle Lou’s charitable contributions over the years helped do all sorts of things for the churches, such as new roofs, new pews, establishing food panties, providing meals at holidays, and so forth.

The crowd at the visitation was huge and hours were extended until almost eleven in the evening the night before the service. The funeral service was simple, yet elegant, and comforting. Family members, plus the surviving members of the Sunday Club, the Heirs, and all current employees, including Skeeter’s mom, Johnny and his grandparents were in attendance. The meal after the service was at “Uncle Lou’s.”

Uncle Lou named Grandpa Thompson and me as co-executors of his estate in his Will. It’d been executed some three years prior and I was fully aware of its contents Uncle Lou, along with Hardy, understood I’d add Hardy’s name to all properties, accounts, and other investments when the time to do so occurred.

Grandpa Thompson was almost flabbergasted at the size of the estate and the financial value of it. I wasn’t since Hardy and I’d been handling Uncle Lou’s financial affairs for several years.

Uncle Lou was more than generous in the provisions of his will. He bequeathed nice amounts to his surviving siblings or their spouses, but to Grandpa Thompson a higher amount. The two were so close and Grandpa was always ready to help at the restaurant. It seemed only fitting and none of the others objected. He also made smaller amounts to the surviving members of his Sunday Club, endowed two local scholarships for one employee and one other young man chosen by “The Heirs” based on their knowledge of his social beliefs, the Salvation Army, an annuity for Johnny, several other charities, and to the public library. The remainder, a rather large remainder I should add, was bequeathed to me.

It didn’t take me long as we sorted out properties and so forth, for me to engage our attorney to make certain Hardy’s name was on all documents, bank accounts, and other items as we discussed with Uncle Lou.

Now, we just had to live up to and continue his work and his generosity to those in need or deserving.

Johnny finished his seminary training in 1974 and was sent to Thailand in 1975. Evidently, while doing his tour of duty in Southeast Asia, he picked up some language skills which made him an outstanding candidate for some mission work the Order he belonged to engaged in. His medical skills certainly added to his qualifications. He was thrilled to be going back there.

That’s when things began to get interesting; complicated might be a better description.

To be continued...

Posted: 07/08/2022