Man to Man

I am lead from the front hall down a long hallway and into a study. Unlike the eclectic entryway the study was as classic as you could get with polished oak and leather everywhere I looked. There were floor to ceiling bookshelves along two walls filled with books new and tomes that looked as old as America herself. There was something about those worn spines that told me that these were not for show but got read and referenced on a regular basis.

Roger directs me to a pair of leather armchairs that sat side-by-side in front of a big stone fireplace that was currently cold and empty, between the chairs was a small table. I wondered how many big deals or negotiations had taken place across that table, how many great men and women had sat in those chairs. I get a clue when I spot a picture on the wall that showed a younger Roger shaking hands with Obama.

He motions me to sit on one of the chairs. “Take a seat, son.”

I pause at his use of that name again. Son. Nobody had called me that since…Dad. With another man I would have bristled, with another man the wounds inside me might have started to bleed again, yet with Roger it rolled off of his tongue so warmly and naturally it was impossible to take offense. I think it also helped that having Heather in my life had begun to help heal some of those wounds that had stayed perpetually open all these years. Sitting down I settle into the chair and feel the sumptuous leather against my fingers.

“So, what’ll it be?” He asks from a little mini bar between the two large windows that bathed the room in tree dappled light. “I’m a scotch guy myself. Islay’s.” He chuckles. “If it doesn’t taste like the inside of a chimney I’m not happy.”

“Uh, yeah. They’re pretty smoky huh?” I say. “Um, I’m driving so I’d like to keep sharp.”

“You are good boy.” He says. “Heather wouldn’t have chosen anything else. Some lime and sparkling water?”

“That sounds great.”

“I think I’ll have one myself.”

As I look at the pictures and paintings of old landscapes and old men I hear the plink of ice in glass and the fizz of sparkling water being poured. Before long Roger comes to join me. As he sits he hands me my glass. We clink tumblers and sip then settle back into our chairs. In these chairs, in these august surroundings, I felt very, very small.

Roger does not speak to me like I was small though, or beneath him, he just…talks. “First things first, welcome to the family.”

“Thank you, Mr…um, Roger.”

He crosses his legs and folds his hands over his thighs as he studies me. “I hear you’re getting into construction.”

“Oh, uh, yeah.” I say. “I’m already working, and I’m gonna start working on my certifications and stuff right away.”

“I imagine that is satisfying work.”

“It is.” I smile. “Honestly, it’s the best job I’ve ever had. By quite some distance.”

“Nice!”

“Um…you are a…judge?”

“Justice technically.” He says. “As I sit on the state Supreme Court.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Mister Justice, your honor.” I cringe. Idiot!

Another warm chuckle. “It’s okay, Elliot. Please, relax. I’m just Roger.”

I nod and take a deep breath. “Sorry. Everything is so…new.”

“And a bit scary?”

After a few seconds I nod. “It’s not Heather or the family, it’s just…”

“The lack of control.”

Another pause, then I say. “Yeah. You get it. I mean, I have no regrets.”

“You couldn’t have them if you wanted to.” He says with simple, direct clarity. “We’ve traded true freedom for eternal happiness, as long our Mistress’s keep us in their hearts. That’s the deal. But it does make you think sometimes.” He swirls his drink and takes a sip. “Heather warned you first, yes?”

“Yeah.” I nod. “She was quite explicit. In fact she tried to push me away, for my own good. But…our bond had already begun, and I’m not talking about honey. There were no tricks.”

“I didn’t think so. We’re very blessed to have Heather as our Matriarch.” He says. “She keeps this family grounded. So many get distracted by the network and the cause and the politics, Heather keeps things simple. Beautifully simple. She keeps us about us. Just a family. I love that woman. I was so…so worried about her after Alexander passed on.”

“Yeah. Everybody talks about that. Heather explained about the bond. Um…” I take a sip of my fresh and citrusy drink. “May I say something and you won’t get mad?”

“I won’t get mad, Elliot.”

“Um…Rebecca is a bit of hypocrite.”

His bushy brows raise. “Oh?”

“She gave Heather such a hard time about me not being the right age and, well, respectfully…”

“I’m an old man?” He laughs his soft laugh. “I’m not THAT old I’ll have you know. But I take your point.” He sighs, his eyes drifting to a photo of his family above the fire. There he stood between Rebecca and Mia smiling like the happiest man in the world. “My Rebecca knew what she was doing. As Heather did with you. She made that sacrifice…for us.”

“Because you were powerful?”

“Because she loved me.” He says. “And yes, also because I had a trajectory she saw as valuable.”

“And when you pass away?”

His eyes dim, a look of plain flashing across his face. “She will…come with me. She’s already arranged it.” He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “I would prefer to speak of other things, but if you have questions I understand. Please continue.”

“No. No. I’m sorry.” I say, knowing in my heart the agony I just caused him. The thought of Heather dying… I blink the tears that threatened to gather away. “Let’s talk about something else.”

Roger opens his eyes and gives me a nod, a little spark of understanding passing between us. With effortless deftness he moves to topic back to me. Before I knew it he had me telling him about my career plans, my ideas of improvements around the house, and how I was enjoying my new sport. As we spoke he laughed and gave gentle advice and cracked corny ‘Dad’ jokes and most important of all…he listened. He really listened. Him, one of the justices on the highest court in the land, sat and gave his time and his undivided attention to me, the kid from nowhere.

The more he talked the more fascinated by him I became. There was no bluster, no machismo, and no expectation that I measure up to some standard that had been put on me by society. He wasn’t tough like a cowboy or a fighter, he didn’t offer opinions as if his cock and his age gave him some divine access to the truth, his masculinity came from within. Never had I met a man who held his manhood so easily and so comfortably. He had nothing to prove to anybody and he let me know that I didn’t either. To me, he was everything a real man ought to be.

I had him laughing about Coop when he says. “Well, I hope you stick with this sport. Rebecca’s taken an interest now and she would most displeased if you quit. She stewed for a month when Liam dropped out of his MMA thing to go gallivant across Europe.”

“Yeah.” I say. “I can’t believe she got my team a sponsor.”

“Oh, son.” He laughs. “You don’t know the half of it. She’s plugged you into the network now. It’s not just your team who is going to benefit, it’s the whole league.”

“What?” I laugh. “You’re joking.”

“No joke.” He looks toward his family picture. “There are wheels turning that you will never see.”

“That’s…a lot for somebody who barely knows me.”

“You’re family.” He says simply. “Our bond is forever. Not just you with Heather, you with us.” He leans forward. “Even if Liam does end up causing a schism, and leave it to that boy to do just that, Rebecca will still be helping you from afar. You are her Prince now, that means a lot to Rebecca. Family is everything to her.” He grins. “She was bragging you up at a dinner party just last night as a matter of fact.”

“Me!? Rebecca!? Serious!?”

“A diamond from among the common coal, something to that effect.” His smile fades, though his eyes remain friendly. He tilts his head, gives me a long look, then says. “I hear you have taken the role of Prince in more than just name.”

“Oh! Uh…you heard about that, huh?”

“Julie would talk about little else.” He says. “You’ve made them all very happy, you know. Not every Matriarch shares. Even fewer leave it to their bonded to mate to freely choose who he couples with among the clan. With their limitations and their appetites any sustained male attention is treasured. Male sexual attention? Well, as I said, you’ve made them all very happy.”

“Yeah.” I whisper. “Ahem. So, when you say…I made them ALL very happy by being prince…you don’t mean…”

“Yes. Rebecca too.” He says. “She is quite looking forward to spending time with you. I can’t offer her the things I once could. And she has needs that require…a younger, stronger, healthier man.”

“Ahem!” I squirm.

“You won’t find any jealousy here, son. I am hers, she is mine. No sex in the world can change what we have.” He leans closer, eyes narrowing. “It is not my wife I worry about, however. Elliot, what exactly are your intentions with my daughter?”