A Well-Lived Life 2 - Book 4 - Elyse
Chapter 57: Cease Fire

Copyright © 2015-2023 Penguintopia Productions

Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 57: Cease Fire - This is the continuation of the story told in "A Well-Lived Life 2", Book 3. If you haven't read the entire 10 book "A Well-Lived Life" and the first three books of "A Well-Lived Life 2" you'll have some difficulty following the story. This is a dialog driven story. The author was voted 'Author of the Year' and 'Best New Author' in the 2015 Clitorides Awards, and 'Author of the Year' in 2017.

Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   Fa/Fa   Mult   Military   Workplace   Polygamy/Polyamory   First   Slow  

February 26, 1991, Chicago, Illinois

“What a bastard,” I spat.

We were watching CNN on Tuesday night.

“What do you mean?” Kara asked.

“The motherfucker fires a SCUD at a US Marine barracks in Dhahran, kills two dozen Americans, and THEN announces he’s withdrawing from Kuwait? And orders his troops to set fire to the Kuwaiti oil fields? And to cap it off, I bet you anything you care to wager that Bush declares victory and lets Hussein get away with it. All those men dead! For nothing!”

“Nothing?” Elyse asked. “Getting the Iraqis out of Kuwait is nothing?”

“Worth American lives? No. Not even close. I know we disagree on this, but I just don’t see how risking the lives of my friends and their comrades in arms was the right thing to do. And what was really accomplished? Hussein is still in control in Iraq, we destroyed all the civilian infrastructure, and killed a bunch of Iraqis. Not exactly something I’m going to celebrate as a shining moment in Western civilization.”

“Have you heard anything about Aimee?” Kara asked.

“Not for a few weeks, but there haven’t been any attacks on our naval vessels, so I’m sure she’s safe.”

“We’re going to head up to bed,” Jessica said. “I assume you’re with Elyse tonight.”

“If she’ll have me,” I said.

“Was there ever a question?” Elyse laughed.

February 27, 1991, Chicago, Illinois

“I think today has to be my last day,” Cindi said on Wednesday morning. “I’m just too tired and uncomfortable.”

“You’re due next week! Go home!” I said firmly. “You have everything in place. Zeke is up to speed, and Kayla is training Ken. Go home! Tell Chris I banned you from the office, if you need to!”

“He’s been telling me to stay home for a week!”

“Then go! And have Chris call me when the baby’s born, please.”

“Thanks, Steve. See you afterwards!”

I got up from my desk and carefully hugged Cindi. She kissed my cheek and left the office, presumably to let Elyse or Kimmy know that she was starting her maternity leave. I got back to work. Just before lunch Jeri and Zo came into my office to discuss the beta testing reports.

“Everything looks good so far,” Zo said. “The only issues we’ve seen are some minor database issues, but they haven’t caused any database corruption. Greg is working on those issues right now. I have a list of requested changes from Mario in Pittsburgh, as well as a couple of items from your friend Ben Jackson. I wanted to go over them with you now.”

“Has Dave seen them?” I asked.

“He said something about managing my team,” Zo laughed. “I did talk to Cindi before she left and confirmed that there aren’t any issues with the changes that were requested.”

“Then let’s see what we have.”

We sat at the small conference table in my office and went over each change request, estimating how long it would take to complete them, and the order we should do them in. When we finished, Zo assigned me two tasks, and he and Jeri went back to their desks. I decided to get my lunch before I started work, and left the office to head home to have lunch with Jesse and Matthew.

“Thanks for eating with us, Dad!” Jesse said when we sat down in the kitchen.

“Thanks for inviting me!”

“Can we go to a hockey game?” Matthew asked.

“Yes, but the Penguins aren’t going to be in Chicago again unless they play for the Stanley Cup.”

“You like the Blackhawks, too,” Jesse said.

“Yes, I do. I’ll call this afternoon and see what tickets are available.”

“Just us! No girls!” Matthew said.

I smiled, “What about Albert and Michael?”

“They’re too little!” Jesse said. “Just the big boys!”

“OK. I need to check with your moms and get the tickets.”

“Yea!” both boys exclaimed.

We finished our lunch. After I headed back to the office, I checked with Elyse. She didn’t have an issue with me taking the boys to a hockey game, so I went to my desk and called Jennifer at work. She had no issues, so I called the ticket broker I used. He said he had tickets for a game against the Rangers on March 10th. I bought three tickets, and made a note on my calendar. Just as I hung up, Elyse came into my office.

“You called it correctly. Bush announced a cease fire in place today.”

“Of course he did,” I sighed. “The only good thing is that means no more combat.”

“You’re such a pessimist on this whole topic! At least things are moving in the right direction in the Soviet Union! You should be happy about that.”

“I should, and I mostly am, but I still think there’s a risk of a coup. And so does Mary Harrison. And, if I read properly between the lines, so do Tatyana and Vanya.”

“There’s a lovely thought,” Elyse said. “A military or conservative coup in a country with enough nuclear weapons to turn the world into rubble.”

“You know my position on nukes,” I said. “They can’t be uninvented and they function as a deterrent. I’d love to be rid of them, but there really isn’t a good way to be sure that nobody has them.”

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to visit this summer?”

“I can always cancel the Russia portion of the trip if things look dicey. I guarantee that the Anderssons will be happy to have me stay a few extra days, or I could go to Göteborg, or even Helsingborg.”

“Have you heard from your friend that went to Amsterdam?”

“Pia? Not for a long, long time. I have her parents’ old phone number, and if that doesn’t work, I could probably find her family through the Anderbergs. I might do that, just to see what happened with her.”

“You don’t keep in touch with the family you stayed with, do you?”

“No. They weren’t exactly the model of a good nuclear family, and once Anders found out that I’d slept with Suzana, that sort of put an end to things. No great loss, really, except for Suzana. But Sofia keeps in touch with her, so I know she’s living with her boyfriend and has two kids.”

“Anyway, I’ll let you get back to work. I just wanted to let you know the news.”

She left, and I got back to coding.

March 3, 1991, Chicago, Illinois

“Do you think the Soviets will simply allow the peaceful dissolution of the USSR?” Elyse asked as we watched CNN on Sunday after lunch, before the Rap Session started.

“I don’t see that they have a choice. Obviously, the risk of a coup is always there, but I don’t see Gorbachev using troops to force the Estonians and Latvians to stay in the USSR when they just voted by 3-1 margins against it in referenda. If they didn’t use the Red Army to keep Germany and Poland in the East Bloc, I just don’t see them using it against the Baltic States. The southern republics are a different story. Ukraine provides a lot of food, and there’s a lot of oil in some of those areas as well.”

“You’ve mostly been right so far about that. I guess it pays to have your Russian connections.”

“It does. Which is why the FBI was after me when I was dating Tanya.”

“Ugh. Don’t remind me. I was worried that they might actually try to seriously pressure you by using your family or business.”

“The only time I was really worried was when they busted John Walker and his spy ring. The FBI was almost frantic at that point.”

“They were pretty embarrassed by that whole thing.”

“And we have ANOTHER plane crash,” Elyse sighed.

CNN was reporting that a United 737 had crashed. Flight 585 was scheduled to fly from Peoria to Colorado Springs, and had crashed on final approach, with no survivors.

“That plane was mostly empty,” I said. “25 passengers and crew is no more than a quarter full for a 737-200, depending on the seat configuration.”

“Well, thank the aeronautical gods for small favors,” she said. “How many crashes do you think we’ve heard about since we moved to Chicago?”

“It has to be at least thirty, and probably more. And that doesn’t even include the DC-10 that crashed here in Chicago in May of ‘79, right before I left for Sweden.”

“I remember that one. And the one in the Canary Islands in ‘77.”

“The two 747’s. That was unreal. It’ll be hard to top that in terms of single-accident death tolls.”

“They keep building bigger and bigger planes, so you never know.”

“True,” I agreed. “I think it’s time to get the snacks out. Our students and friends will be here soon.”

March 5, 1991, Chicago, Illinois

Dave came into my office on Tuesday morning to discuss hiring two programmers in May or June. We agreed that we’d interview at UofC, IIT, Loyola, and Northwestern. He’d also send job descriptions to the City Colleges to be posted in their placement offices. It was going to be a bit of a juggling act, but between Dave, Zo, Tasha, and me we’d be able to cover all four schools. While we were mapping out the plan, Keri buzzed me over the intercom.

“Chris Eggert is on the line! Cindi had her baby.”

“Excellent! Did you get the details so you can send flowers?”

“I did. Let me put him through.”

She did, and I put the phone on speaker so Dave could hear as well.

“Hey Chris! I have Dave in my office. You’re on speakerphone.”

“Hi guys! William Charles Eggert was born this morning at 8:03am! He’s just a hair under eight pounds, and mom and baby are doing fine!”

“Congrats!” I said.

“Many years to all of you!” Dave said, giving the usual Orthodox blessing.

“Thanks again! I have a few more calls to make. Keri was going to spread the word to the staff, but Cindi wanted me to tell Mario. Do you have his number in Pittsburgh handy?”

I gave him Mario’s cellular telephone number, and said goodbye.

“That’s it for the old gang, isn’t it?” Dave observed. “Cindi was the last one. Well, except for Katy.”

“And Stephie,” I sighed. “But she never had a chance.”

“She was a great girl, no question about it. How is her husband doing?”

“Jason is fine. The team has trouble after a big name in the sport stole their new sponsor. They ran with the US Army as their sponsor for the Daytona 500, but two Sundays ago at Richmond and last Sunday at North Carolina, they ran a blank hood with no sponsor. Kulwicki is funding the team out of his own pocket at the moment, but it’s not clear how long that can go on. He did pretty well two weeks ago, but yesterday he was 17th. Hhe only pulled in about $30,000 in winnings. He has a bit more coming in from a few minor sponsors, but his winnings won’t cover his costs.”

“That sucks. How is Bill doing?”

“28th at Daytona because of the stupid pit rules I told you about, and 30th at Richmond. He managed 5th this week, but he’s not even in the top 20 in points. If they don’t do something about the stupid rules, I’ll probably stop watching or caring.”

“Your Pens seem to be heading for the playoffs, and they look at lot better now that Lemieux is back.”

“They do. In fact, after the huge trade yesterday, I think they have a really good chance to win the Patrick Division. I already have Mario lining up tickets for at least one home playoff game. The only complication is that the playoffs start during Holy Week, and I don’t know if the Pens will play at home or away for their first two games.”

“Huge trade? What did I miss?”

“A blockbuster deal. I only know because Mario called me. He suspected that the Trib wouldn’t have much to say about it, and he was right. The Pens traded John Cullen, Zarley Zalapski, and Jeff Parker to the Whalers for Ron Francis, Ulf Samuelsson, and Grant Jennings. I think that gives the Pens a major boost, and it’s not like they’ve been playing poorly since Lemieux came back. They just have to overcome their lackluster performance while he was injured. This should seal the deal.”

“Wild,” Dave said. “It’s awfully late in the season for that big of a trade. I guess you have an interesting dilemma on your hands. You like to go to church during Holy Week and your Penguins are in the playoffs. So?”

“If I were Orthodox, it would be an easy choice. I’d go to church. But given my situation, I think I’ll go to the hockey game. Maybe it will work out and they’ll start on the road, which might push game four until after Holy Week. But I’d rather they had home-ice advantage, which according to the speculative schedule in The Hockey News would mean Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, or Saturday, depending. I want to try to be at church at least for Pascha, if possible.”

Dave nodded, “I understand. It really isn’t going to be possible for you to ever be received into the church unless you make some radical changes in your relationships, and I don’t see that happening, and I’m sure not encouraging it! Even your relationship with Archbishop ALYPY can’t overcome something like your marriage.”

“No, it can’t. And I’ve accepted that. So hockey it is.”

“The Penguins only play the Hawks if they both reach the finals, right?”

“Yes. That actually works out well for me, given that my top two teams only play a few times a year and then can only meet for the Stanley Cup.”

“Count me in for seats if that happens!”

I chuckled, “I should look at getting a box at the stadium, but somehow I don’t think Elyse will allow that expense!”

“Probably not! You’re talking hundreds of thousands of dollars, if not millions, if you could even find one for sale. Maybe when they build the new stadium they’re talking about! Anyway, back to NIKA. We’re on the same page for hiring?”

“Absolutely. And don’t let Doctor Bauer pressure you. I’m lecturing in Doctor Driesson’s class in April, and I’ll scout the students, but he’ll hear the same thing from me - we hire the best, no matter which school they come from.”

“Amen to that!”

That night at home I raised the issue of the potential conflict with Jessica and Kara.

“We know what’s important to you!” Jessica grinned. “The First Church of the Pittsburgh Penguins!”

“With only being able to count on four games in a single series, I don’t want to miss the chance.”

“You think they’ll get knocked out?”

“No, I think they have a chance to win it all with Lemieux and Jágr, but I don’t want to miss out on a chance to see a Penguins playoff game. It’s just unfortunate scheduling.”

“So what would you miss?”

“I don’t know just yet. I won’t know until the season ends in about three weeks and we see where all the teams finish and what their records are. It’ll be relatively short notice. I’m really sorry about this.”

“Don’t apologize Tiger, this is important to you. And we know there isn’t any way we can join the church.”

“I’m concerned about Jesse,” I said.

“We’ll take him,” Kara said. “And I think he’ll understand. Besides, he’s not going to do anything to upset you! You’re taking him to Russia again!”

I chuckled, “And that will cover many sins with my eldest son!”

March 7, 1991, Chicago, Illinois

“Do you believe this?” Elyse said, as we all sat in shock watching CNN on Thursday night.

“The LA police have a pretty bad reputation already,” I said. “This is going to make it worse. That guy didn’t appear to do a damned thing to warrant them beating the crap out of him!”

A videotape shot by a bystander showed four white officers beating a prone and defenseless black motorist named Rodney King. It was, to say the least, disgusting.

“We didn’t see what happened just before the beating,” Kara said. “Maybe he did something?”

“Let’s assume he did,” I said. “In fact, let’s assume he punched an officer or even threatened him with a gun. He was tasered - you can see the wires - then the tape shows him being hit with batons at least two dozen times and kicked a bunch of times. I don’t care WHAT he did, once he was on the ground, that was when it should have ended.”

“That does seem excessive,” Kara agreed.

“Four white officers beating up a black man isn’t going to play well in LA,” Jessica said.

“Or anywhere else, for that matter,” I said. “Let’s just hope the politicians handle this correctly. Mayor Bradley is black, and a former LA police officer, so maybe that will keep this from spiraling out of control. My dad had businesses in LA during the Watts riots in the 60s, and had to be escorted by National Guardsmen.”

“Really?” Jessica asked.

“Really. I don’t know a lot about my dad’s past, but that’s a story he’s been willing to tell. He promised to tell me more one day, but that day hasn’t come as yet.”

 
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