I woke up with Carlos's arms tightly around me. It was already 7:30, I felt totally devastated after last night, but I had to get up and talk to Francis explaining why I wouldn't be at the office before noon. Carlos was leaving this afternoon, and I couldn't let him go with my emotional mess last night as our last memory.
"Good morning mi Alma" he sent me a loving but tired glance; "Do you have to get up?"
"I need to text Francis, saying I will come in after lunch – I was planning to take you to the airport" I heard my voice, the reliable, proper Alma – but Ice princess? Not really, I had to work on that one.
"I love you, mi Alma – will you marry me?" His morning breath was mortal.
"Not until you brush your teeth," I smirked at him.
He rushed out of bed, and I heard a dedicated toothbrusher from the bathroom. I walked downstairs to fetch some coffee and brought it back up to our bedroom.
"I love you, Alma, will you marry me now – I have brushed my teeth."
"Carlos, we need to talk seriously about us, your kids, and the fact that you are all relocating to New York. I love you and would marry you on the spot, but we have a somewhat more complicated family life to work out" I sent him a begging glance.
"Alma, why do you overthink everything? We have been waiting for each other for six years – My sons are great young men; they are no longer kids. Jorge is 16, and Alessandro is 12. Jorge is as into running as you are, Alessandro is more artistic, he is a very talented pianist – please Alma, give them – and us - a chance." Carlos pulled me down on the bed and started caressing my breasts – not that I really have much to brag about in the milk wagon department, but what I have is extremely sensitive.
"I do want to give this relationship a chance, Carlos, for god's sake, I have been masturbating to your picture for six years. I'm not even 14 years older than your oldest son. Will he accept me as a mum? – You have to understand Carlos, having my own children and bringing them up from infants to adults, is one thing – you have the whole childhood process. Taking over as a mum for two teenaged boys is terrifying. I don't even know if I like children."
Carlos looked at me with an unreadable expression. "You don't want us to have our own children, Alma?"
"Oh, Carlos, I don't know. Yes, I do – I think, but you have to understand. To me, this relationship isn't like an excel sheet with a sum at the end of the column; it's all about emotions and doubt. Do you want to be a dad again in your 40-ies? Can you take late-night crying, or will I have to carry the responsibility? What about my career? If we have children – do I have to give up work? Will you give up work? We reconnected two months ago, I think we need more time to explore each other. I know I love you, and I always have – but I need time and space. What if we leave each other, and I have connected well with your sons – will they feel like they lost their mother all over again? I might seem strong, but I'm frail, Carlos, I want us, I want your sons – but we have to plan together to make this work. Yes, I'm looking forward to the summer with your sons, yes I'm looking forward to growing old together, yes I'm looking forward to having your babies, but we need to plan things a bit better – I hate it when I feel overrun by you. We have to be on the same page to make this work."
"Alma, you make me feel like a moron. I guess I just went too far too fast. I have lived with the fantasy of us together since I left New York six years ago, and as impatient as I am – I wanted it all to happen right here and now – Sorry, Alma, I think we both need time and space, but I need to know – Marry me? Yes or no?"
"Yes, Carlos, but let's wait a bit, this is like a huge jigsaw puzzle; we need the right pieces in the right places. When I fully commit to you, it's for life."
"I can live with that," Carlos hummed as he kissed his way down my belly.
Dad was on the phone. He wanted to know if he should send the driver over to pick up Carlos. I refused. I wanted to take him myself in my 15 years old Peugeot convertible. I hardly ever drove around the city, so even if my car was an old cheap car, it was in mint condition.
"We have to do something about the car situation around here, you're still driving the same Peugeot as you did as a student," Carlos laughed as we entered the underground garage.
I love my car, I mean, we could have traveled in my dads Audi A8, but I prefer my Minnie Mouse car" I sent him a challenging glance.
"Do you love me, your life, or your car more?" Carlos grinned.
"Actually, when I start thinking about it – I think I love my dogs most of all. My next dog will be named Carlos, Carlos sit! Carlos, do not jump on people! Carlos, I said, lay down!" I was laughing so hard.
"I guess the Spanish male chauvinist in me got a bit hurt, but I can see you would love that scenario." Carlos gave me a sloppy kiss, and we got his bags into the car.
It was a beautiful day, and soon as we were through the tunnels, we took the car's roof down.
"I love every quirky part of you, Alma," Carlos snaked his arm around my shoulder. "We need a skype meeting with Francis and Claudia before she and I come back in three weeks. Can you set that up? And are you still cool with the two of us staying at your place?" Carlos tried to act professionally.
"Yes, and yes, darling," I said and squeezed his tight.
Goodbyes are always hard, especially when you know there will be a vast ocean between you and the man you love.
Carlos got on his flight, and I drove back to the Met.
"Alma!" Francis was waving at me from his office door. I trotted down the hall and felt severely tired. Three hours of sleep, saying goodbye to Carlos, and at least four glasses too much last night didn't make me feel any better.
"We have the interview with the Times tomorrow – should we do some joint preparations?" Francis looked excited – "By the way," he said, "your party Friday night was magical. Everyone was so happy."
"Francis, I'm really in a terrible shape today; why don't we do that in the morning before we go – I really want to go home and sleep."
"Go home and sleep Carlos off," Francis pushed me out the door. I went to the parking lot, got into my car, and dreamt of my lovely, soft bed -still smelling like Carlos.
I was woken up by Mick. Shit, it was already 6 pm. I looked at my phone; I had eight missed calls. "Alma, dad fired Stuart today and told me to transfer all my cases to other lawyers" Mick looked totally broken. "He said the board decided that Stuart and I had to get the hell out of the company as soon as possible."
"What???" I looked at my missed calls; two of them were from dad, the rest from Stuart.
I called dad and told him what Mick had just told me. He confirmed that the minority shareholders had gone with Sam at the extraordinary board meeting that Sam had called for today.
"What does that mean, dad? You said you were protecting them," I yelled into the phone.
"I'll come over to your place and explain" dad hung up, and fifteen minutes later, he and mama were at our door.
"Care to share, dad?"
Dad looked like a beaten dog. Old, tired, and disillusioned, as he climbed the stairs to the roof garden.
"Alma, get me a drink" dad rarely asked for wine, that was mamas thing. I got out a bottle of white wine, and we all sat down.
Dad sipped his wine in silence, just looking at Mick, Stuart, and me.
He shook his head, "I'm too stupid for my own good. I used to read people, but what happened today" he swallowed a few times. "Honestly, I didn't see it coming. I'm so sorry, Mick and Stuart." His voice was but a whisper.
"I don't understand, dad, you have 51% of the stocks, Mick has 5% - surely 56% is enough for a majority vote?"
"I am on the board but wasn't even invited to the board meeting," Mick looked angry.
Dad cleared his voice. "Last night, when we were all sitting here having happy family time, Sam called all the board members, except Mick and me. Luckily, I'm an old man and wake up early, so I checked my mail at 7:30 this morning and found an emergency board meeting invitation. Sam was running the show, using Trump rhetorics about Mick, Stuart, and me. He said I had an agenda that was way too liberal and would break down the company's good reputation. In fact, he claimed that Mick and Stuart were bad people – he even called Stuart nasty. All the old conservative board members agreed with him – God knows what he told them on the phone last night. Several partners threatened to leave if Stuart wasn't removed, and Mick's cases were transferred to someone trustworthy. How can you do things like that to your own son and your oldest friend? Sam even used against me that I have colon cancer; as you all know, I have lived well with it for several years, and it is under control. He claimed that my chemotherapy had made me dilutional – He offered to buy me out of the company."
"What the fuck!" Mick started pacing the floor. "I felt things went more smoothly than I had feared last night. They obviously didn't – Josh, what will you do?"
Dad looked at Mick. "I don't know yet. But I'm not selling out, nor should you Mick, at least not yet. I still want you on the board; I just need to talk to the more liberal board members and the younger partners. The company makes good money, but unlike Sam, I'm not in this for the money. This is a company my father built. I will pay for Stuarts law school, regardless if it is company funds or private funds. I want you both to take some days off work till it quiets down a bit. My god – I'm so sorry that things ended like this."
Mama pulled dad into a hug. "I love you, Josh – regardless of what Sam does, and we will fight this together if you want to fight. If Sam wants out or rather wants you and Mick out, he will have a tough struggle, because you own the company building and 51% of the stocks – he has no right to fire Mick and Stuart or threaten you." My passionate mama came to dads rescue.
Stuart had been quiet through the entire ordeal. "I can sue the company for discrimination" several supreme court rulings are stating that you can not discriminate because of sexual orientation."
"Don't do it, Stuart," dad said quietly. "You will just make the fronts at work even more poisonous than they are at the moment. Sure, you will be paid well to keep quiet, but I think working from the inside is a way better strategy. Who are your friends at work? Let us get them on our side. As the most senior partner and the majority shareholder, I will stand by you – people tend to listen to me. What happened today made me see the true colors of quite a few people I considered friends, and I wasn't prepared for it. I have a big job to do here in New York. Mick, you have a case coming up in France, don't you? Do you want to run it as your last case for now, or do you want me to transfer it to Steve Grant?" I saw dad's mind working overtime.
"I start at the DAs office on July 1st – I don't know, what do you think, Josh? Stuart and I can prepare Steve to take over, and we actually have two gay lawyers in Paris, so I guess the climate there is less toxic. It's really up to you" Mick kept pacing the floor like he was preparing for the New York marathon.
"I want you to finish the case, and I also want to know who your friends are among the lawyers in the office, both here in New York and in Paris. I need to turn this ship around before it hits an iceberg" dad looked confident but worried.