Advent Calendar - Day 11 Fiction by Byron Beach

 

I--we--are so lucky to have so many willing victims contributors to this year's Advent Calendar. The generosity of reader-friends with their time and talent is truly one of the nicest things about the calendar. 

This morning we have another coda from Byron Beach. This time we're taking a sneak peek at what Adrien English and Jake Riordan just might be up to... 

Young Mr. Gracen Explains it All.

 

The staccato rhythm of Jake's fingertips tapping nervously against the steering wheel filled the car, pricked at Adrien like a persistent mosquito. Adrien knew his husband better than anyone, he understood that Jake’s thin veneer of tranquility was in danger of cracking.  This meeting had kept getting delayed and pushed off. First for Jake’s work, or his travel then for any number of vague excuses but after more than two months, time was running out. Christmas was next week and nothing in the legal world ever happens in the week before New Year’s, so if they were going to get their documents in place Adrien had to force it to happen. A key to their relationship was their ability to navigate each other's boundaries. Knowing when to push, when to gently nudge the other outside their comfort zone, and when silence was the best medicine.  Adrien had pushed, but now, this was a time for silence with Jake.

They exited the 210 East and Jake guided the Subaru past the holiday decorations on Lake Street. Turning at a 30-foot gold modernist Christmas tree with stainless steel and gold balls, and he dived down into the concrete darkness of the Union Bank building's underground parking lot. The dimness momentarily stole Adrien's sight, a niggling reminder that maybe it was time for glasses. They say the forties were the starting point of failing eyesight. Well, better eyesight than the heart, he mused. Adrien felt fitter than he had since he was a kid. He swam regularly, and his personal trainer, Scout, ensured his cardio sessions were punctual. Plus, Jake had evolved into an ardent health freak, championing the cause of green smoothies and disturbingly frequent vegan meals.

As they exited the car, Jake muttered in a curt tone, “You'd think they'd have better parking facilities. It's so cramped; our doors will get dented.”

Adrien cast him a glance, a hint of grin on his face. They were just here to discuss some paperwork, not make definitive decisions, it should be easy, but Adrien knew that Jake didn’t grow up with this and probably didn’t understand in a meaningful way what he was walking into. As they moved around the car, Adrien slipped his hand into Jake's, squeezing it reassuringly. "Thanks for driving, my mind is preoccupied," he said, peppering a quick kiss on Jake's neck.

"Anything for you, baby," murmured Jake, "Let's go check the fallout." Adrien, shook his head in amusement. 

“Adrien, thanks for coming in. And I presume this is your husband, Jake?” Stanton Gracen, Old Mr. Gracen’s movie star handsome grandson and the new managing partner at Hitchcock & Gracen, greeted them. He gave Adrien a warm smile that echoed their first meeting and reenforced Adrien’s feeling that the family law firm was now in more progressive and friendly hands for couples like them.  Shaking Jake's hand, he remarked.  “Jake, I’ve heard plenty about you from Lisa. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

 “Nice to meet you, Mr. Gracen. Considering what Lisa might have shared, I assure you it wasn't all my fault,” Jake replied, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

 Gracen laughed, “Call me Stan. And you're underestimating Lisa's admiration for you.”

 He led them into the modern conference room, with its avant-garde lighting fixtures and a panoramic view of the San Gabriel Mountains. "Would you like any coffee or water?" Stan offered gesturing to an oddly lavash spread of coffee, tea, muffins, fruit and sugar cookies in H, G and & shapes covered in red and green sprinkles.

“How many lawyers are we expecting?” murmured Jake looking over the table.

Adrien, shook his head then thanked Stan, requesting only water, knowing that Jake would need something to fidget with during the ensuing conversation. While his administrative assistant brought in bottles of Hint water, Stan produced a hefty pile of folders as Adrien and Jake took their seats at the sleek glass table.

 “Today should be straightforward, although there will be quite a few signatures required. Based on our discussions, Adrien, I've prepared all the necessary documents. But before we delve into them, I suggest we discuss an overall view of everything. Does that sound okay?”

 “That sounds fine," responded Adrien, casting a reassuring smile at Jake, who seemed be sizing up his chances of escape by making a desperate run from the room. Adrien squeezed Jake's hand under the table, feeling him relax slightly, while Stan looked on with a knowing smile.

 Stan resumed his professional persona. “As you know, Adrien, your grandmother left her estate to you with the final half to be disbursed after your 40th birthday. Just to clarify, this only pertains to the trust fund set up by your grandmother and has no relation to the irrevocable trust your father established for your mother, for which you are the residual beneficiary." 

Adrien nodded his understanding as Stan continued his overview. But Jake, visibly tensed, stiffened further in his chair.

 "Since your first disbursement, twenty years ago, the funds have been wisely, and I might say, quite successfully, invested in a diversified portfolio," Stan continued in his soothing tone. "The portfolio includes blue chip and technology equities, bonds, industrial real estate, and some legacy investments, such as the ranch in Basking. The only liability is the note you signed when Lisa transferred ownership of the Porter Ranch house. Today, we will resolve that note and transfer the ownership to both of you."

 Jake cut in abruptly. “No, that's Adrien's house; it should be in his name.”

 Adrien interjected, "Jake, we've discussed this. It's ours — well, ours and Scout's and Tompkins'. No point in distinguishing when our lives are intertwined." He added, "In fact, that's the main point of today. We make decisions together. This is an equal partnership, with no reservations."

 Jake started to shake his head, but Stan chimed in with a softer tone, "Jake, in this, I agree with Adrien. Adrien has always been adamant that he wanted to share this inheritance as community property. Having dealt with numerous estates and sadly complicated family dynamics, I can assure you the most successful and happy couples work as teams, with neither partner holding the financial upper hand."

 "So buckle up, Riordan. I'm doing this for both of us. We're in this for the long haul," Adrien said, laughing, as Jake closed his eyes in disbelief as if that would make it all go away.

 Stan, reverting to his formal tone, proceeded with the estate details as Jake listened in tense silence. “We’ll start with the industrial distribution warehouses in La Verne, which are part of a limited partnership” Stan’s tone turning almost gleeful “And this is the neat part, as a passive partner your income from these can be quite happily is offset by depreciation and losses from other investments decreasing the tax-load on the current year’s net profit.” Stan smiled like a kid opening presents as Adrien nodded in agreement and Jake froze closer to absolute zero. He continued “The current value of your partnership share is around sixteen million, but more to the point the after tax distributed cashflow is ___”

 Later, deep into their second round of double frozen margaritas at Mijare’s, Jake's petrified expression began to thaw. "You should've told me,” He repeated shaking his head. "You really should’ve told me. My parents scrimped and saved to buy their house for $59,000, even taking a second mortgage for Danny's college. Who am I to have all this?" 

"You're the same gallant man I fell for when you strutted into my bookstore, convinced I was a killer," Adrien said gently. "Money doesn't change anything, apart from being able to finish the remodel of the ranch and building you a true and proper workshop at Porter Ranch." He paused for a moment, and with a soft kiss and a raised eyebrow, adding, "We could also consider a New Year’s vacation? Just you, me and a feather, in an overwater bungalow in Tahiti, with no swimsuits or commitments?"

As reluctant smile spread across. Jake’s face he leaned in for a kiss whispering "Merry Christmas, Baby.  Anything you want--just ask your millionaire hubby."

*Apologies to Byron! I accidentally cut off his last line. OUCH.