Inheritance
 by: Hankster

© 2022 by the author

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

hankster@tickiestories.us

-1-

Paul Hartfield entered his Manhattan office on a Tuesday morning, the day after Labor Day.  Before he could hang up his jacket, his desk phone rang shrilly.  He dropped the jacket on a handy, nearby chair.

“Yes, Maggie?” he asked his secretary.

“Someone named Samuel Mason says he has to speak to you on a matter of great importance.  The call sounds legitimate,” Maggie assured her boss.

Paul was a CPA.  Every day he got calls from panicky clients with all kinds of imagined emergencies.  Paul limited the number of clients he engaged.  He never wanted to grow too big, and not have personal contact with them.  Unfortunately, that could be very wearing on him, but gratefully, Maggie fielded a lot of the problems herself.  She was his only staff member, and he couldn’t manage without her..

Mr. Mason was not a client, so Paul said, “That’s fine, Maggie.  Put him on.”

“By the way, Paul,” Maggie said, “he’s calling from Trumball, Connecticut.”

Now Paul’s interest was piqued.  When Paul was a little boy, he lived in Trumball.  His father was a caretaker at a quaint little inn, located just at the end of the city limits.  It was conveniently built on the highway headed toward New Haven.  The inn was owned by a middle aged spinster named Mary VonGelder.   He hadn’t thought of Mary or Trumball in years.  His father died when he was just ten years old, and he and his mother moved to Brooklyn, NY to be near her parents.

“Hello, Mr. Mason,” Paul finally said.

“Am I speaking to Mr. Hartfield?”

“Yes you are.  Is there something I can do for you?”

“No, but there’s something I can do for you.  I hate to inform you that Miss VonGelder has passed away.”

Paul’s memory of her was so dim that he could not conjure up any sad feelings.   “Really,” Paul said, “I’m sorry to hear that, but I barely remember her.”

“I’m her lawyer and the executor of her estate.  You may not remember Mary, but she must have thought very highly of your father.  He’s a beneficiary in her will, but since he died after the will was executed, and you’re his only heir, you’re the legal beneficiary.  There’s to be a reading of her will in my office in Trumball next Monday at 10 AM.  I must request that you be present.”

“Of course,” Paul assured Mr. Mason.  “I have plenty of time to clear my calendar, but if an emergency arises, I can’t guarantee that I’ll make it.  You know how it is with clients,”

“Yes, I sure do.”

Sam gave Paul his telephone number and address.  It was early in the new millennium. Smart phones and automobile navigation systems were still in the infancy stage at this time.  Very few people had either yet.  Sam carefully gave Paul some lengthy driving directions.  Paul assured him that he wouldn’t get lost, and would call him if he did.  They hung up wishing each other a good day.

Maggie was more than a secretary.  She and her husband were good friends of Paul’s.  Years ago, Maggie’s husband, Don, had been a victim of a scam.  Don had a small business doing handyman jobs.  One of his clients talked him into investing in “a sure thing.”  The client took his address and personal social security number.  He already had Don’s business ID.  The scammer then filed a 1099 form with the IRS showing thousands of dollars of income attributed to Don, but which was his.  Of course, Don never received the money or a copy of the form.  It was money the thief had siphoned to a foreign bank account.

Don had no knowledge of this unfortunate series of events, but the IRS did.  Eventually, they came after him.  With interest and penalties he owed a king’s ransom.  Don and Mary came to Paul for help.  As a CPA he could represent a client before the tax court.  He successfully pled a class action suit on behalf of his client and the other victims.  He won, and the judge issued warrants against the scammer, but he was nowhere to be found.  No doubt he was in a foreign country enjoying his loot.

Paul was looking for a secretary at the time, and he hired Maggie.  It was no problem for her to walk into Paul’s office without knocking, and ask her stunned employer, “What was that all about?”

“Unbelievable,” Paul muttered, and he filled Maggie in. 

“Geez,” she exclaimed.  “You might be a gazillionaire.  Get yourself to that reading.  I’ll hold down the fort here, and stall the hysterical clients who can’t live without you.”

*****

Since Paul was driving from New York, he overestimated the time it would take him to get to his destination.  He was about a half hour early for his meeting, and Sam was with a client.  His secretary asked Paul to be seated and offered him a cup of coffee.  After his long drive, he gladly accepted.

About ten minutes after Paul arrived, an absolutely stunning, handsome young man came into the office.  Besides being the best looking stud Paul had ever seen, he was a muscular hunk.  Paul’s gay heart missed a beat, and then began to race.  On the other hand, the handsome guy was straight, and no such thing happened to him, even though Paul was a very handsome man also. 

The secretary asked the newbie to be seated, and he too accepted her offer of a cup of coffee.  As he sat down, he caught Paul’s eye, and said, “Good morning” to him.  They didn’t speak another word to each other, but now the man admired Paul’s good looks also.

A few minutes before ten, Sam’s client left.  Sam walked him to the front door.  Then he looked at both men and said, “You can come in now.” 

They were both confused and somewhat shocked at the realization that this would be a joint meeting.  In the usual fallacy known as assumption, they both assumed that they were the only heirs.

Sam offered his hand to each man in turn and introductions were made.  Now Paul knew that this hunk’s name was Mark VonGelder.  “No wonder, he’s coming to the reading,” Paul surmised.  “He’s a relative.”  Mark was a great nephew of Mary’s and her only living heir.  He too was a secondary beneficiary.  The original heir was his father, who was now deceased.  He and Paul also shook each other’s hands, and Paul’s heart raced anew.

“I’ll be brief,” Sam said.  “Mary had about $500,000 in stocks and bonds which will be split equally to you two men.”

“In his best professional manner, Paul asked, “What will the cost basis be?”

“I’m evaluating her holdings for the estate tax return.  The basis will be the value on her date of death.  Another thing, I’m splitting the holdings in two and will give you each stocks and bonds equivalent to approximately half the fair market value.  Is that okay with you men?”

They both nodded.  That meant they wouldn’t have to deal with each other.  Paul was disappointed, but Mark was relieved.  He lived in Trumball, and thought that dealing with someone in New York would be inconvenient.

“That’s the easy part,” Sam said.  “The Olde Wayside Inn is alive and thriving.  It’s currently being run by Miss VonGelder’s food purveyor.  They were great friends, but, Mr. Taylor is being stretched too thin, and he can’t wait to turn management over to you two.”

“Oh no,” they both blurted out.

“I’ve got a business to run.  I haven’t got the time,” Mark said.

“Me too,” Paul said.  “I’ve got a practice to manage, and I can hardly handle that now.”

“Well, the alternative is to sell, but I have to tell you that it has been on the market for two years without a nibble.  Mary wanted to retire at last.”

Paul looked at Mark.  “I suppose we could hire a full time manager until the inn is sold,” he suggested.

“That’s a good idea.”

“It’s almost lunch time.” Sam said.  “Why don’t you two go to lunch, and you can talk about what you want to do about the inn.”

“Yes,” Mark said.  “let’s have lunch at the inn.  If Mr. Taylor is there, we can introduce ourselves.”

“I agree.   Let’s go,”

“Follow me,” Mark said.  “I know the way.”

Paul followed Mark to the inn.  When he got there, and saw the inn, wonderful memories of his father filled Paul’s brain.  He almost started to cry.

-2-

The two heirs parked their cars and entered the inn.  They went first to the registration desk.  “Is Mr. Taylor around?” Mark asked.

“Yes. He’s in the office.”

“And where would that be?” Paul asked.

The desk clerk pointed to a door on his right, but said, “He may not want to be disturbed.”

Paul and Mark ignored him, and went straight to the office.  They knocked softly, and went in without waiting for permission.  Henry Taylor looked up.  He was very surprised to see the two men.  Before he could say anything, Mark explained, “I’m Mark VonGelder, and this is Paul Hartfield.”

Henry jumped up.  “Boy am I glad to see you two,” he said as he vigorously shook their hands.”

“Don’t get too excited, Mr. Taylor,” Paul said.  “We have no intention of running the inn.  We’re both way too busy.”

“We thought you could help us hire a manager until the place is sold,” Mark added.

“Look guys.  Good luck.  I’ve been trying to hire a manager since Mary died, and in the two years that it has been on the market, it hasn’t sold.  I can’t figure it out.  The inn is doing very well.  It’s a very popular place, and it’s very much in the black.  Sam and I have already discussed it.  If you men don’t take over and it doesn’t sell by December 31^st, we’re closing up.  There are people here who have worked for Mary for years and years.  It would be a crime to let them go, but we have no choice.”

Paul had no idea what Mark was thinking, but his father loved this place.  He tended to it with such TLC, it was as if he was tending a little baby.  The thought of closing it up ripped at Paul’s heart.

“If it has to be, it has to be,” Mark muttered.

For one brief second, Paul thought that it would be a great tax loss, but he was not about to tell Mark that.  Instead, he said, “We don’t want to act hastily, Mark.  “Let’s have lunch and discuss our options.”

“That’s a wonderful idea,” Henry said.  “I’ll leave you two alone, and of course, there’s no charge for lunch.  When you have come to a final decision, please let me know immediately.”

“Yes.  It goes without saying,” Paul said.

The strangest thing happened at lunch.  Mark and Paul never discussed the inn at all.  Instead, Paul asked Mark one question, and for the next three hours all they did was tell each other about themselves.

It started with, “What do you do for a living, Mark?”

“I own a Ford agency downtown, and am I correct that you’re a CPA?” Mark asked Paul.

They went on describing their lives, and the time passed so quickly it was dinner time before they knew it.  They were absolutely shocked that they opened up to each other with such ease.  They were both very private people.

Mark revealed that he got married at twenty-two, the weekend after his college graduation..  He was obsessed with fucking his girlfriend, but she wouldn’t allow it until after marriage, so he got married.  The marriage did not last long.

“She wasn’t a great lay,” Mark said.  “In fact, she was frigid.  No wonder she wanted a ring on her finger first.  I started to run into New Haven as often as I could.  I’d visit my favorite bar and never failed to score.”

“If I was as handsome as you are,” Paul said, “I’d have no problem scoring there either.”  Then he could have kicked himself for saying it.

Mark accepted the compliment graciously.  “Don’t sell yourself short,” he said.  “You're pretty darned good-looking yourself.  What about you, Paul?  Were you ever married?”

“No, I’ve been in a few relationships, but for whatever reason, none of them lasted long.”

“Those women were jerks,” Mark said.

And so it went.  They talked all afternoon, never realizing the time.  By very late in the afternoon, they knew everything about each other except the fact that Paul was gay.  He was tempted to come out of the closet.  Some sixth sense told him that Mark wouldn’t care at all.

Finally, Mark said, “Shit, look at the time.  Let’s have a drink at the bar, and we might as well stay for dinner.  We haven’t even started to talk about what to do about the inn.”

“And I might as well take a room.  It’s too late to drive back to New York.”

“Don’t be silly,” Mark said.  “I have a three bedroom home, and live alone.  Take one of my guest rooms, and we’ll be company for each other tonight.”

If Paul didn’t know better, he’d believe that he was being hit on.  He was afraid of being alone with Mark.  He’d be hard pressed not to try to fuck him. 

“I don’t want to impose on you,” he said. 

“It’s not an imposition.  You didn’t ask, I offered.  You’ll be doing me a favor.  Besides, we haven’t even discussed what to do about the inn.  We can do that this evening before we go to bed, and tomorrow morning before you leave to go back to New York.  I’ll make breakfast.”

Paul had to give in.  “Okay,” he said.  “You win, but when we get to your house, I have to call my secretary at home and tell her I won’t be in tomorrow.  This’ll be the first time I took back to back days off for as long as I can remember.  I’ll need to give her your telephone number also.” 

They had a couple of drinks at the bar, and then lingered over dinner.  They did come to one conclusion.  They would continue to search for a manager, and keep the inn on the market.  They would have to ask Mr. Tayler to manage as best he could.  If the inn didn’t sell by the end of the year, they would just close it.  Neither needed the money, and the whole thing was a windfall anyhow.  It was then that Paul told Mark that they could take a capital loss.  Mark had no idea what he was talking about, so Paul explained.

“You can take a loss of $3,000 a year until the total loss runs out, but if you sell any of the stocks and bonds, you can offset the gain with the loss up to the full amount of the gain.”

“Wow,” Mark said.  “So closing the inn might be a win-win situation.”

“I know, but I have so many fond childhood memories of this place, I’d hate to see it close.”

Once again, they continued to talk past 8 PM.  They actually felt like old friends.  Finally, Mark realized the time.  “We’d better head on home,” he said.  “Follow me, Paul.”

When they arrived at Mark’s house, he set Paul up in the closest guest room to the bathroom.  Paul had not expected to stay overnight, so Mark provided him with towels and some basic toiletries.

Mark asked, “Do you wear underwear or go commando?”

Paul was shocked at the question, but he managed to mutter, “underwear.”

“I never wear those uncomfortable things, but I have some.  I can lend you a pair of briefs.”

“It’s only 10:30,” Paul noted.  “I never go to sleep before midnight, and I shower in the morning.  Wanna chat some more?”

“I’d love to.  My agency is open from 11 AM to 10 PM, so I rarely go to bed before 1AM, and usually alone.”

Now Paul was sure that Mark was coming onto him, but he couldn’t be sure, and he wouldn’t ask directly, so instead, he decided to come out to Mark.  Hopefully that would end his utter frustration.

“Mark, I’ve got to tell you something.  After I do, please don’t kick me out of your house in the middle of the night.  I’ll get out early tomorrow morning.”

Mark began to laugh hysterically.  “You’re going to tell me you’re gay, aren’t you?”

“You knew?” Paul mumbled.  “How?”

“The minute I said good morning to you in Sam’s office, I could see the lust in your eyes.”

“Then you don’t mind putting me up for the night?”

“Paul, you idiot.  I’ve been coming onto you all day.  Couldn’t you tell?  I don’t mind putting you up at all, but I will mind if we don’t sleep together.”

“I’m not that naïve, Mark.  I suspected that you were hitting on me, but I figured that you were straight.  I reckoned that I was mistaken, and I was afraid to say anything,” Paul stammered.  “But, I don’t understand.  You told me that you were married, and you went into New Haven to get some nookie.”

“I am straight, Paul, or at least, I thought so.  Here’s the thing.  When I was in college, I went to a straight bar one evening.  I drank too much, and I got stinking drunk.  Some middle aged man said that he was taking me home, that in all good conscience he couldn’t let me drive.  He undressed me to my bare skin.  You know I don’t wear underwear.  He put me in his bed, the only one in his apartment.  He undressed also, and climbed into bed.  He encircled me in his arms.  I swear I was drunk, and I don’t know how it happened, but we made love all night.   He took my cherry, mouth and ass. In the morning, I pretended that I was too drunk to remember anything of the night before.  I dressed, got a cab, and drove back to the bar to get my car.  I never saw the guy again.  I didn’t even get his name.”

Paul finally interrupted.  “Mark, listen to me.  That guy could not have made you gay.  You have to be born that way.  If I was in your position, and I slept with a woman, I could have sex if properly aroused, but I could never become permanently straight.  You told me that you got married and went into New Haven to relieve yourself.  I presumed that was with women.”

“Of course it was, but that’s not the point.  I came to realize that in the one night with the stranger, I had the best sex I ever had in my life.  I began to obsess that I wanted more, but the thought of having more gay sex frightened me.  Little by little, the women I picked up satisfied me less and less.  In fact, the last time I went to my pick-up bar, I couldn’t get hard.  Sure, I was scared to admit that I might be gay, but I made up my mind that the next time I’d go to a bar for sex, it would be a gay bar.” 

“What happened when you went to the gay bar?” Paul asked with wide-eyed wonder.

“I never did go.  You see, I made that decision yesterday, and this morning you came into my life.  Please make love to me, Paul.”

“I want to, Mark, with all my heart and soul.  But we both have our work, and we could never be together.  I’m not willing to settle for weekends.”

“Please, I beg you.  Give me this one night, and then let’s try to work it out.”

“Of course, I will.  I love you too.”

-3-

“I know that I told you that I shower in the morning,” Paul said, “but would you shower with me now?”

“My pleasure.  But you’ll have to direct me.  I’m new to all this,” Mark said.

“My pleasure,” Paul mimicked.

In the shower, Paul took a bar of soap, and began to bathe every last inch of Mark’s beautiful body.  He paid particular attention to Mark’s cock and balls.  He knew that there would be no competition.  Mark was presently in a very hard state of arousal, and he stretched to about seven inches.  He was uncut and very hefty.  Paul matched him in dimensions, but he was actually about a half inch longer.

As Paul soaped Mark, the poor guy got more and more frenzied.  Finally, after much playing and teasing, Paul handed Mark the soap, and he began to bathe Paul.  Mark actually mewled when he rolled Paul’s cock gently in his palm.

“I don’t know what I expected, but for sure, I never knew that someone else’s cock would feel so wonderful in my hand.”

Mark started to masturbate Paul, and Paul stopped him. 

“It’s OK to get worked up in the shower, but I prefer to make love in a dry bed.  We’ll both be more comfortable and relaxed.”

“Whatever you say, Teach,” Mark said.  “Let’s rinse off.”

“I’ll do that for you,” Paul laughed and he began to give Mark a golden shower.

Mark began to giggle.  “You’re tickling me,” he said, and proceeded to pee all over Paul.

When they were thoroughly rinsed off from soap and urine, they dried each other and finally got into bed.  Then the fun began.  First, Paul instructed Mark in how to give excellent head.  Then they indulged in a luscious game of sixty-nine, but Paul wouldn’t let either of them cum.  By now Mark was whimpering, begging for relief.

“Do you have any lube and condoms?” Paul asked.

“Lube, yes,” Mark said, “but I’m out of condoms.  I intended to buy some before I went to the gay bar.”

“Fuck the condoms then,” Paul said.  “You’ve only been with women, and I swear to you, I’m healthy.  I’d never lie to you about that.  Let’s go bareback.”

“It’s OK with me.”

Paul lubed Mark’s aching cock generously, and then showed him how he lubed his own ass and stretched it.  “I’m an old warhorse,” he explained, but when I get you ready, I’ll stretch you out as much as possible before I enter you.  It always hurts at first, and I want to enter you with a minimum of pain.”

Paul was on his back.  He put a pillow under his butt and raised his legs.  Then he guided Mark’s cock into his anxious hole.

“Don’t pump yet,” he instructed Mark.  “Just lie still and enjoy the moment.”

“I am enjoying the moment,” Mark almost cried, “but I can’t hold back.  I’m cumming.”  He emitted an unworldly scream, and collapsed on Paul.  They began to kiss madly.

“Fuck me now,” Mark kept begging over and over. 

Paul was forced to obey, but he had Mark straddle him and lower himself gently on his cock.  He believed that would give Mark the least pain.  Paul had done a good job lubing Mark’s ass, and stretching it.  Paul went in easily, and Mark reported that it didn’t hurt nearly as much as Paul said it would.

When Mark felt Paul cum high up his bowels, he didn’t hold back any more.  He started to cry.  “It was wonderful with that stranger,” he admitted, “but it was way better with you.  I love you, Paul.  We have to work out this dilemma we’re in.”

“Yes, but not now,” Paul said.  “Let’s sleep wrapped up together.  We can talk in the morning.  You don’t have to be at work until 11 AM, and I have no deadline to get back to New York.”

“That’s a plan,” Mark said.

They began to kiss again, tonguing themselves deeply.  As Paul requested, they fell asleep wrapped together, and that’s exactly how they woke up early the next morning.

*****

Paul awakened first, and when Mark woke up, he found Paul lost in research.  He had taken in the morning paper, and was going through the want ads.

“Did you know” he asked Mark, “there are over fifteen want ads for jobs with CPA’s in New Haven and five in Trumball?  They require different degrees of experience.  I could get a job here in a New York minute.”

“But what about your practice?’

“I’ve had any number of requests for me to sell to a larger firm or merge with another sole practitioner.  No CPA wants to be alone.  It’s too stressful.  I could sell my practice, and move to Trumball.  I could manage the inn and have a more peaceful life.  We wouldn’t have to sell it.  I know for sure that’ll make my dad happy in heaven.”

Mark grabbed hold of Paul, and kissed him so hard, they both lost their breaths.  “You’d do that for me?” he asked incredulously.  He didn’t wait for an answer.  “Use the guest bathroom.  Go take your morning shower, do your morning things, and I’ll do the same.  After we get dressed, I’ll make breakfast, and we can talk about this then.  How’d you like poached eggs on toast?”

“I’d love them.”

“See how compatible we are,” Mark joked.

Mark started to cook breakfast at about 9 AM.  They were just digging into their meal, when Mark’s phone rang.  Mark answered it.

“It’s your secretary, Maggie,” Mark said.  “She sounds distraught.”

As he took the phone from Mark, Paul said, “I’m sorry I gave her your number.  My clients would track me to the Arctic Circle to solve some minor problem.”

He put the phone to his ear and asked, “OK, sweetheart, what’s the tragedy of the day.”

“I didn’t want you to worry about me.  I wasn’t in the building.”

“So, where were you?”

“Mrs. Kalin’s tax return was on extension.  You finished it before you left, and you asked me to mail it to her.  She’s on my way to work, so I decided to deliver it to her.  That’s why I wasn’t in the building.  I can’t get near it.  I’m calling from home.”

Paul was plain confused.  “What happened that you can’t get near our office?”

“Something horrendous.  Don’t they have TV reception in Trumball?  Turn on a TV set, and when you catch your breath, call me back at home.”

“What was that all about Mark asked?”

“I don’t know, but nothing good for sure.  We have to turn on a TV set to find out.”

“Then it’s bad,” Mark groaned.

*****

It was the morning of September 11, 2001, and Paul’s office was on the sixteenth floor of the north tower of The World Trade Center in lower Manhattan.  When he and Mark caught their breaths, they both started to cry.

“Now you have no business to sell,” Mark observed.

But Mark was wrong.  Paul did have something to sell. 

Over a year ago, he had brought a very primitive computer into his office.  Maggie couldn’t stop thanking him, and telling him how he had eased her work burden.  Every client’s complete file was on a floppy disc.  When he bought the computer, a tech came to his office to set it up, and to show him and Maggie how to work the newfangled thing.  He also advised Paul to make a backup disc and store it off his premises in case of a fire or something.

Paul thought that was pretty farfetched, but he did as the tech advised.  The discs were stored in a large storage unit off premises.

“Thank God,” he thought.

“Mark, Honey,” Paul said.  “I’m going to call Maggie back, and I want you to listen to what I say.  Is there someone you can call to open the dealership, and tell them you’ll be very late today?”

“Of course there is.”

“Then you call first, and then I’ll call Maggie.”

When Maggie answered the phone, she was crying.  “It’s awful, it’s awful,” she whimpered over and over again.”

“Maggie, listen carefully to me.  Thank God, I have all our clients’ records backed up and stored safely away.  You know how Jim Carson has been bugging me to merge with him.  I’ve ignored him until now.”

“Are you going to take him up on his offer? At least you’ll have an office to operate out of.”

“No, Maggie, I have other plans.  Yesterday, I inherited an inn.  It’s where my dad worked as a handy man before he died.  The inn is doing well and it’s in the black.  I’m going to take over management of the inn, and sell Jim the discs.  He might not be able to keep all the clients, but knowing Jim, he’ll keep most of them.”

“That’s unbelievable,” Maggie managed to sputter out.

“Wait, there’s more.  Now’s a good time to move out of New York.  If you and Don move to Trumball, you can help me manage the inn, and Don can help me maintain it.”

“Wow!”

“I know it’s a lot to digest.  Talk it over with Don, and let me know.  In the meantime, I’m not rushing back to New York.  I have no office.  I’ll be in Trumball at this number.”

“Fine, but I need the address.”

“Here, I’ll put Mark on.  It’s his house.”

“Who’s Mark?” Maggie asked.

He’s a relative of Mary’s, and we inherited the estate equally. We make such good partners that I’m moving in with him.”

“I gotta hang up,” Maggie said. “This is too much for me to digest.  I didn’t expect a day like this when I woke up this morning.  Paul, Don’s home.  The subway system is in chaos.  I’ll discuss your proposition with him, and get back to you as soon as possible.”

“No matter what you decide, I’ll call Jim tomorrow.  Today is no day to discuss business with him.”

Paul hung up and grabbed Mark.  “I’m so glad I’m done with accounting,” Paul said.

“No you’re not,” Mark said.  “You’re going to do my tax return and take care of the accounting for the dealership and our inn.  You don’t think I’m going to pay for it, do you?”

They watched a little more news but it was too heart breaking, and Mark decided to go to work.

“Come with me,” he said to Paul.  “You can examine the books and plan your work.”

“You do realize that I have to go back to New York, take care of business, and close out my apartment.”

‘Sure I do, but that can wait a few days.  I think it’s wise to stay out of New York for a while.”

Before they left the house, Maggie called.” “Yes, she said, “we’re on our way to Trumball to look for housing.  In the meantime can we stay at the inn?”

“Sure you can, but you and Don are family.  The man I’m staying with has two spare bedrooms.  I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you stayed there for a few days.  In fact, I’ll stay here until you’re ready to go back to New York.  We’ll go back together in your car, and I can leave mine here.  I expect that it's where it’s going to stay for a long time.  There’s so much to take care of, it’s boggling my mind.”

Three months later, Paul, Maggie and Don were living and working in Trumball.  Maggie and Don found a lovely two bedroom apartment not far from the inn, and Paul was happily sharing Mark’s bed.

They were all so happy, except for one thing which bothered all of them.  The tragedy that occurred in New York that Tuesday morning, was indirectly the cause of their happiness.  They would always feel a little bit of guilt about that.

In November, 2008, same sex marriage became legal in Connecticut.

“Mark,” Paul said, “let’s get married before December 31^st.  We can file a joint return for this year, and save a bundle of money.”

“Mark laughed.  “You’ll never stop being an accountant.  I think it’s in your blood.”

“You’ve got that wrong, Buddy”, Paul corrected him.  “You’re in my blood.  Accounting and joint tax returns will never be as important as you.”

Posted: 09/02/2022