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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

As Time Goes By - Georgetown Book III - 3. ATGB III

The end of November approached and the Prospect Street house was again full of friends and relatives. CJ and Owen asked their realtor, Dasan Turner, to walk them through the house they were trying to purchase in the Capitol Hill neighborhood one more time. The owners had removed all remaining furniture and personal items; the place was empty and ready to be shown off to the Illinois and Florida relatives.

Tyler Scott flew in from Chicago in late summer and coordinated his inspection of the property on 11th Street with those conducted by other professionals. Ty e-mailed them a lengthy report with the results of all the others, a detailed analysis of everything wrong with the house, and cost estimates for resolving the problems. Built in 1896 and occupied by the same residents during the previous forty years, maintenance and upgrades were rare during that time. The structure needed substantial work in addition to cosmetic updating. It would require more than refinishing the hardwood floors and slapping a coat of paint on the walls to turn it into what CJ and Owen began referring to as their forever home.

Using the exhaustive list of structural issues and required building code upgrades, CJ and Owen lowered their initial offer by half-a-million dollars. The owner balked, rejected the offer, and the house remained unsold. In early November, the listing agent contacted Dasan, revealed theirs was the only offer made on the property over the long months on the market, and the seller was ready to capitulate. He was willing to reconsider their offer if they could arrange for a quick settlement. Since Brett and César were financing the purchase, there was no need to wait for bank approval of a loan; a closing was expected within two weeks.

 

Ty and his husband Randall Abelló arrived for the Thanksgiving weekend with preliminary plans for upgrades, improvements, and potential pitfalls they might encounter once demolition began. While the family traipsed over the narrow home, the side yard, and the carriage house behind the main structure, CJ, Owen, and their Chicago cousins discussed details of necessary work highlighted by electrical, plumbing, environmental, and structural inspectors. The intent was to breathe new life into the grand old home and the list was long.

“This isn’t my first rodeo, CJ. You know this is what I do for a living.” Tyler headed the historical restoration division of Second Line Construction, the company started by CJ’s uncle Rico. “No matter how thorough the inspections, the chances are real good we’ll discover problems once we start tearing down walls.”

Owen looked confused. “Why would you be tearing walls down? I mean, apart from when the top floor gets turned into a master suite.”

“Let’s see if I can explain this using little words so you can understand.” Randy’s smirk ruined the attempt to sound condescending. “Ouch! What the fuck, CJ?”

“Next time I’ll hit you harder, cuz. Don’t be talking down to my boyfriend.”

“Fine! Fuck you’re getting touchy.” Randy walked over to the nearest wall and tapped on it. “You hear that? It sounds different from what you’re used to. These are plaster walls and we already know we need to deal with lead.”

Tyler paged through the thick bundle of papers he carried. “I explained this in my report. You guys obviously didn’t read the whole thing.”

CJ looked sheepish when he glanced at Owen. “Dude, we skimmed some of it. Neither Ozzie nor I are in the construction business. Some of the details were a bit too detailed.”

“Damn! Ty and I figured since you boys are smarter than the average fifth grader you’d read and understand.” Randy took a step back and grinned as CJ raised a hand in his direction. “Anyway, plaster walls with lead contamination are common in older homes. Lead-based paint was banned years ago. The dust is toxic and kids can get fucked up if they eat paint chips.”

“So we’re not at risk right now? It’s not a problem for me and CJ but it might be if we have kids?”

CJ was reminded of a tennis match. He and Owen stood between their cousins and his head swiveled each time one of the Chicago men picked up the conversation. It was Ty’s turn again.

“Infants and young children are most at risk but it affects adults too. Removing a lath and plaster wall creates lots of dust. It means we have to protect workers and others from inhaling it. Long-term, the dangers include brain and tissue damage. Workers tearing down a plaster wall with lead-based paint have to wear respirators with HEPA filters to keep from inhaling the contaminated plaster shit.”

“So, are we at risk now or not? I swear, getting a straight answer out of you guys is like pulling teeth: painful.”

“Not much straight in this room.” Ever the jokester, Randy was ready when his cousin and Owen gave him threatening looks. “We’re fine, we’re fine, you wusses. Unless we disturb the walls there’s no immediate risk.”

“Yeah, well, no immediate risk is still too much. We plan on having kids one day so we need to get rid of the problem.”

“And we will. As soon as you close, we’ll file for permits and get a lead abatement team in here. Then we’ll start on the electrical updates and the roof.” One could tell Randy and Ty had worked together for a long time; they alternated comments seamlessly.

“Let’s figure out some details.” Randy’s innocent expression made CJ wary. “So, you want to start on top or bottom?” The innocence gave way when he wiggled his eyebrows.

CJ’s groan and facepalm required no explanation; Owen ignored the suggestive remark. “Doesn’t matter. I get both.”

“Wait a minute there! What do you mean you get both? Don’t I have a say?” CJ smiled but realized Owen’s tone meant he was serious.

“Sorry, CJ, but no.” Let’s start at the bottom. The basement is kinda small but I want it divided in two. One room can house all the mechanicals—”

“Mechanicals?” Tyler looked surprised. “Where’d you pick up that word?”

“Back in Australia. We had a huge setup in its own room at the winery. Anyway, one of the rooms down there will house all the mechanicals and the other one’s getting turned into a wine cellar. I’ll give you specifications later. The most important part is environmental control: humidity and temperature. But I want it to look good too. Something we can walk around and share with our friends. Maybe a small sitting area?”

“And a bathroom! With a urinal. Can’t be running up the stairs whenever I need to take a leak.” CJ meant it about the bathroom but he also wanted to make certain he had some input. No way was Owen going to give him 100% control over any of the other rooms. The look his fiancé gave him meant Owen was not fooled.

“So you’re talking about something a little larger than a closet. About how many bottles do you want it to hold?”

Ozzie stared at Tyler as the grin on his own face grew. “Bloody right it’s going to be larger than a closet. And fancier. We’re talking birch paneling, glass walls, brick details, hardwood floors—”

“Okay, okay. I get the idea. We’re not building storage. We’re designing an upscale wine shop. How big?”

The grin remained when Owen gave CJ a quick glance before returning his attention to Randy and Ty. “Oh, I guess big enough to store a thousand or so bottles with a section to serve as a humidor.”

“THE FUCK?”

CJ’s laughter ruined his aim. The backslap intended for Randy ended up swatting nothing but air. “Duuude, you should see your face!”

“You guys are joking, right? A thousand bottles?”

“You forget Ozzie owns part of a vineyard and winery down under? We get at least a case of wine every month. Right now, we drink it all. What with the dads and their friends. Chipper’s mom sends us a case now and then too. But at some point we’re gonna start buying good stuff from other wineries. A few we’ll drink but some I’ve been told need to be laid down for the future. This is his department so whatever he wants he gets.”

“You’re so dick whipped it’s pathetic, cuz.”

“Keep it up, Randy. You’re gonna end up drinking Two Buck Chuck the whole weekend.”

Tyler extended both hands out and pushed CJ and Randy away from him. “You’re dismissed. Owen seems to know what he’s talking about so I’ll chat with him. You two go out and play in traffic for a while.”

“Asshole!”

“Okay, Ozzie, we’ll talk details later and then I’ll do a little research. You said you also wanted to deal with the top. Are we talking about the space you wanna turn into a master suite?”

“Nope. I was referring to the roof. The inspection report said it was in bad shape and we would have to replace it in a couple of years. I want to do it now.”

“Oh, so that part you read. You don’t have to, you know? Nobody can stay in the house while we do the interiors but the roof’s a different story.” Tyler and Owen were in their own space, ignoring CJ and Randy who stood listening to their respective partners discuss the Australian’s wants. “A new roof won’t take but a handful of days and there’d be no need for anyone living here to leave. It can be done at any time.”

“Yeah, see, that won’t work because what I want’s a little more involved. I know it’ll need extra approvals because of the house being in the National Register of Historic Places. And a sparky.”

“That’s an electrician, right?” Tyler’s smile suggested he was happy guessing what the nodding environmental attorney wanted. “You want to put solar panels up?”

“Kind of. I want a Tesla solar roof.”

 

Overeating was not something any of the house residents engaged in on a regular basis but Thanksgiving dinner pushed them all against the edge of gluttony. Although the temperature hovered near the freezing mark, the Abelló men and male spouses gathered on the side patio around the blaze in the fire pit, smoking cigars and complaining about the amount of food consumed. The women called them fools, opened another bottle of wine, and remained inside.

“I guess we’ll be in Washington twice next year. The wedding and Thanksgiving.” Ricardo Abelló, César’s older brother, spared a quick glance at his sons before returning his attention to his brother and Brett. “I’m warning you, it’s going to be weird. Lynne and I sometimes feel like we’re rattling around our house now that Randy and Rod are both permanently out.”

Brett cringed for a moment. Although he was on board with his oldest son getting married and moving out, everyone knew he was dreading the day. “Hopefully we’ll have those two”he pointed at CJ and Owen“here all the time. It’s an easy walk from the apartment to the house.”

“It happened a long time ago, but think how Rosario and I felt.” Sebastián tilted his head back and slowly expelled a plume of bluish smoke. “Rico and César not only moved from the house, they both left Miami!”

CJ was the only one without a cigar; he declined one and wiggled his eyebrows when he mentioned he and Owen were meeting up with Harley and a couple other friends later. “You could always move up here, Abuelo.”

“Nah, I’d get tired of the cold weather. But I may be coming up a few more times in the future. You know that restaurant we go to all the time in Miami? The owner’s son wants to open one here in Washington. We talked right before we left and he asked me if I knew anything about real estate in the area or someone who might help them find a location.”

“Really? It’d be great to have a good Cuban restaurant in the hood. Did you tell him about Papa?”

“I did. So, do you have anything in the works that could house a restaurant, Rubio? If not, I may ask that nice realtor friend of yours to start looking for something.”

“Hey, Papa, what about the ground floor of the Valero building?” Brett had purchased an old gas station on the edge of Georgetown and was developing a small residential building with retail on the ground floor. “And why would you be up here more often if he opens a restaurant, Abuelo?”

“Because they’re looking for investors and I committed to being one. He also asked me if I knew anyone else interested in gambling on the food business. I’m not sure

“I am!” CJ was excited about the possibility of Cuban food within walking distance and being an owner. “How much do I need to come up with?”

“Hey! Slow down, Mr. Investor.” Brett used his Cohiba to point at his son. “Before you go throwing money away, you may want to know what the heck they plan on doing with it. As for the location, yes, the ground floor of the old Valero gas station place would be perfect for a restaurant. Maybe we can go take a look at it tomorrow.”

 

CJ decided to go with his dads and his grandfather to check out the new building and was getting dressed when his phone rang. “What up, Dash?”

“We have a little problem with the house, CJ. Is Ozzie around? He may want to be in on this.”

“What kind of problem?” The last thing CJ wanted was a snag in the purchase. Now they had a signed contract, he figured nothing would go wrong. “Oz went upstairs and I’m climbing the steps as we speak.”

“I had a call from the listing agent this morning. The seller wants to back out.”

“WHAT?” CJ stopped on the last step and felt his anger rise. His shout made everyone in the kitchen turn in his direction. He looked at Owen and signaled for him to walk outside to the garage. There was no need for half the family to hear this. “Okay, you’re on speaker, Ozzie’s with me, and we’re out in the garage. What do you mean they want to back out?”

“Based on what the listing agent said, there’s a German conglomerate with some kind of contract in Washington for two years. They want to rent the place as is to house rotating executives.”

“Dash, this is Owen. He can’t do that. We have a valid contract.”

“I’m gonna kill the motherfucker. He was the one who came crawling back to us after he rejected our offer the first time.” CJ was fuming. “I’m not letting him get away with this shit.”

Owen slowly rubbed CJ’s back and it calmed the man for the moment. “Let me handle this one, babe. Dash, call the agent back. Explain to them one of us is an attorney. Make sure his client’s aware we’ll file a lawsuit that’s going to cost him lots of time and money. We might not care about something like that but most people will. Let him know I’ll be requesting an injunction to prevent him from leasing the house. Even if we lose, he’ll be tied up in litigation for a while and it’s going to cost him. And we won’t lose.”

“Yeah! You tell him that. And if he’s still an ass, tell him I’m nuts and own a gun.”

Owen’s hand connected with the back CJ’s head harder than a love tap. “Shut the bloody hell up, CJ. Don’t even kid about that.”

 

The threat of litigation worked. Once the visiting hordes departed Washington, CJ buckled down to study for upcoming final exams. A day after his last one, and two before his twentieth birthday, they met at their attorney’s office in the morning. The closing was simple since they had a cashier’s check for the balance of the price.

At the same time, they signed private-mortgage documents for the loan César and Brett made to them. They owed the dads a lot of money but they were homeowners.

Leaving Rachel Stout’s office, the young couple called utility providers to ensure service was on and stopped by the cable company’s store to collect a decoder box, modem, and router. They detoured by a liquor store and then a sandwich shop before heading to their new old house.

“Maybe we should forget about moving to the apartment after the wedding.” They were in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with half-eaten subs and a half-empty bottle of champagne in front of them. “We could have the top floor remodeled and move in here then.”

“No bloody way! What the hell do we need all this space for right now?” Owen furrowed his brow before a thought seemed to relax him. “Too late anyway. We have a signed lease with the Germans. They take over on January first and return it to us in 2019.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I’m sure you could get us out of the contract.” CJ decided he liked teasing his boyfriend. “It was hot watching you deal with all that legal shit. It gave me a boner. And as for this place being too big for the two of us? We could rent out rooms. Or Airbnb the place.”

“Nope. This one I’m putting my foot down on. We don’t move in here until the Germans leave. Even your dads were impressed we negotiated a triple net lease. They pay for everything and we reap the appreciation.”

“Damn! I’m getting turned on again. A lawyer with all that business knowledge… I think I hit the jackpot when

“HELLO! ANYBODY HOME?”

“Fucking A! Our first visitors!” CJ ran out of the room towards the front door dragging Owen by the hand. The two jostled each other trying to be the first one to greet their guests.

Just inside the second set of doors, they found César, Brett, and Ritchie smiling at them. Wingnut made himself at home after licking CJ and Owen’s hands. Before they could say a word, Dasan knocked on the outer door’s glass and let himself in carrying a bottle of champagne and a Tiffany bag.

“What’s the bottle for, Dash?” Brett placed a box he carried in on the staircase and hugged his son and future son-in-law hello. CJ wondered what people were bringing since he and Owen had not told anyone they were going to be here.

“A little something for the guys to celebrate becoming homeowners.”

“I think you forgot my son’s nineteen. He’s not allowed to drink alcohol.”

“Fuck you, Papa. I’ll be twenty in less than forty-eight hours. And for what it’s worth, Ozzie and I have another one in the kitchen. If you behave, we may let you have some. We’ve already been toasting.”

“Yeah, but what we’ve been drinking’s rotgut compared to this.” Owen held the bottle their realtor brought with a reverence bordering on religiosity. “Where the heck did you find a bottle of Salon 2002 Le Mesnil Blanc de Blancs Brut, Dash? This stuff’s rare and expensive. If I remember right, it has a 100 rating from one of the wine magazines.”

Dasan seemed pleased with the praise. “I have my sources.”

“Hey, CJ. Which bedroom’s mine?” Ritchie tried to be part of the conversation while keeping an eye on the golden retriever sniffing everything in sight.

“None! If you think we’re going to let you move in here with your brother and Ozzie you better think again.” César coupled the stern admonition with a smirk.

“Awww, come on, Mr. A. What about when you and the captain want to go away for the weekend? Or are you going to let me stay home alone?” Ritchie’s teasing tone earned him a raised eyebrow from Brett and a roll of the eyes from César.

“The top three floors are all the same, Ritchie. A sitting area in front and two bedrooms separated by a bathroom. You can have whatever room you want on the second or third floors. The top one’s ours.” Owen gave his boyfriend a conspiratorial wink.

“It won’t matter anyway, bro. As I was just reminded, we’re not moving in here for a long time.” CJ’s brow furrowed when he turned his attention to the fathers and Dasan. “How did you guys know we were here anyway? We didn’t tell anyone what we were planning.”

“GPS.” Ritchie chuckled and pointed at Brett. “He remembered they could track the Jeep through the navigation system.”

“Shit! I forgot you could do that. Ozzie, remind me to disable the fucking thing as soon as we have a minute.”

Dasan handed the light blue bag he carried to CJ. “I stopped by your dads’ place to drop this off and they told me they were meeting you here. There’s a little present inside the bag for you.”

“Awesome! My first birthday present two days early.”

“Sorry, CJ. No birthday present. Heck, as long as I’ve known you, you’ve always said no gifts. This is something for you and Ozzie. Consider it housewarming trinkets.”

“I think we need to buy stock in Tiffany’s.” César chuckled while CJ retrieved two small boxes from the bag. The traditional light blue packaging tied with a white ribbon was the same as the two flat boxes Brett took out of the larger kraft-tone one he carried in. “If everyone brings you housewarming presents from the same store, we can make a killing.”

Owen accepted one of the small boxes when CJ held it out. “I like pressies!” The men opened the containers at the same time and retrieved identical sterling silver key rings.

“Figures I’d end up with yours and you with mine.” CJ snatched the one his boyfriend was holding and traded it for the other one. The engraved round tabs dangling from the rings had their initials; one had a C and the other one an O.

“I didn’t put keys in them since I’m sure you’ll change the locks when the tenants move out. Hope you like them.”

“Mate, these are awesome. Thank you!” Owen hugged Dasan before turning to Brett. “Okay, Captain. Hand them over.”

Brett gave him one of the packages and handed the other to his son. “Dash helped us out by providing the picture. We had them engraved this morning when we knew the closing was a go.”

CJ found a picture of the house he and Owen had just purchased in his box. The silver frame’s inscription had CJ & Owen at the top and the address and day’s date at the bottom. “Thanks, dads. I love it. Look, Oz.”

“I have the same thing here, mate. Just a smaller version.” Owen hooked a finger through the ribbon loop attached to an eyelet on top. “This is a Christmas ornament! Thanks, dads!”

“There’s one more thing we need to discuss.” Dasan’s shifted his gaze from one new homeowner to the other. “On my way over here I had a call from the woman representing the German company renting this place. The cleaning crew they hired will be here on the second. However, they’d like your permission to paint inside even though the contract specifies no modifications are allowed. As an incentive, they’re willing to pay the first year’s rent in advance.”

“Hell yeah!” Owen endorsed CJ’s enthusiastic response with vigorous nodding.

 

Nadine ran a hand over the chipped bathroom sink and looked at Owen. “So you’re tearing the whole bathroom out?”

Following the closing on the house the previous day, Owen contacted Squad members in town and invited them to their new place to help celebrate CJ’s twentieth birthday. “Yeah, that’s what we’re thinking. The house didn’t have indoor plumbing when it was built. The Jack-and-Jill bathrooms on each floor were added at a later date. They told us the newer walls aren’t load-bearing so it should be easy. We’re getting rid of everything in here, blowing out the wall, and taking a few feet out of each bedroom. That’ll give us room for a gigantic walk in closet and the spa bathroom we want.”

“That’s going to make the rooms on this floor tiny compared to the others.” Thiago peered into the space through the connecting door. “What are you gonna use the back one for?”

“Ozzie and I think it’ll be a nursery first. Later, it’ll be a home office slash library for us. We’re going to have custom shelving, cabinets, and wainscoting installed.”

“Isn’t your bed too big for the smaller sized rooms?”

“Nah, a king will fit even if it’d be tight. But it doesn’t matter. We’re also taking down the wall separating the room from the sitting area in front. We’ll end up with a massive master suite taking up the entire top floor.”

“Bruh! You guys already planning on having kids?” Harley had flown in from Orlando the previous day and was quick to accept Owen’s invitation. He borrowed his mother’s car and arrived with his two sisters and Kim Hoang in tow.

“I hope they do it soon!” Ritchie’s attention was riveted on Lucy Wilkinson up to that point. “I can’t wait to be an uncle.”

“Your house is beautiful, CJ. I wish you and Owen a long happy life in it. Full of family, friends, and laughter.” Kim bowed in their direction leaving CJ wondering if her words were some sort of traditional Vietnamese blessing. He would have to ask her later. Right after he grilled Harley on what the heck was going on between him and the woman. His friend had been uncharacteristically quiet about the relationship.

“Thank you so much, Kim. I hope you and Harley will be frequent visitors whenever we do move in.” Owen’s acknowledgement of them as a couple made both Harley and Kim blush. “And Ritchie, you’ll be an uncle in due course. We’re not rushing kids just so you can brag about being one.” The chiming of doorbells interrupted the conversation. “I think the pizzas are here. Come on down to the kitchen, people. We stocked the refrigerator with drinks this morning.”

Tanix Janda threw an arm over Patrick Kennedy’s shoulders and guided the high school senior towards the staircase. “Come on, Paddy. You and I need to stick together. We’re the only single guys in this place.”

“Ritchie, go sign for the food. I already paid with my credit card.” Owen turned his attention to his rugby club teammate. “And you, get your hands off my cousin. He’s off-limits.”

“Screw you, Ozzie. I’m just being friendly. Anyway, when do you and CJ plan on moving?”

Owen replied while they all climbed down the stairs. “Not for a while. We’re renting it out for two years starting on January first. Then we’ll do all the remodeling.”

“It makes no sense for me to move before then, Tank. It would mean a real commute to go to school. I figure we rent the place out for a couple of years. Then, after I graduate and get a job, we can have the rest of the house done before we move in. I’m thinking we’ll live in the apartment above the old theatre until then.

“One other thing’s that it’s going to take a while to make all the changes we want. Since the house’s part of the Capitol Hill Historic District, which is in the National Register of Historic places, permitting is a bitch. Papa thinks he can get things through quick, but plans have to go through regular approval and also through the Historic Preservation Board and the Historic Preservation Review Board.” CJ reached for a slice and bit into it.

“Sounds painful, homie. You’re not making changes to the outside, are you?” Thiago looked around the kitchen for a moment. “What about this room? Are you doing it too?”

Owen replied since CJ’s mouth was stuffed full. “We will, when we get the house back. But first, we’ll have to deal with major repairs. The inspections showed a bunch of things wrong which is why we were able to get the place for less than list price.”

When Owen lifted a pizza slice out of the box, CJ finished the explanation. “We’ll have to deal with lead abatement. The entire house needs rewiring and the plumbing needs updating to copper pipes. We have to make sure the place’s safe if we have kids.”

“Aside from what we already agreed to do on the top floor, the other details we’ll figure out when we’re ready to have the work done.” Owen pointed at the old refrigerator that had seen better days but still functioned. “I need a beer. Anybody else?”

“Hey, Lucy, wanna come upstairs and check the middle floors? One of those bedrooms’ gonna be mine. I’m gonna stay over all the time.” Ritchie’s brazen invitation brought immediate silence. “What? We skipped those floors when we went up. Then we came back here to eat. I just want her to see how big the house is.”

“Mate, what are we gonna do about him?” Owen was trying not to laugh but a chuckle escaped CJ.

“Leave him behind next time we go somewhere? Go ahead, Ritchie. You can show Lucy the upstairs rooms and then we’ll all go explore the carriage house.” CJ looked at the youngest of the Wilkinson siblings and smiled at her. “You go with them, Charlotte. Maybe you and your sister can pick out which room you want if you ever spend the night here.”

“Make sure it’s not on the same floor as Ritchie’s!”

div>
Thank you, Mann Ramblings, Kitt, and Reader 1810 for your hard work.
This story would not be possible without your assistance.
Reader feedback is welcome and encouraged.
C A Hazday
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

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Welcome to the discussion thread for CJ’s series. All things CJ are fair game, I simply ask you be respectful of others. I will actively participate in the discussion. Ask questions, speculate about what’s coming, or bitch about what happened. We’re now open for business!    
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1 minute ago, Carlos Hazday said:

 

Bingo! I've taken my time getting to this point but Ozzie had to be comfortable with the money or their relationship couldn't have worked out. He may not spend it as fast or easily as CJ but half of it is his. That's what all the prenup hoopla was about. I'm sure seeing how CJ stood by him against the dads had to give him a warm feeling and the realization they would be real partners.

 

2 minutes ago, Carlos Hazday said:

 

Bingo! I've taken my time getting to this point but Ozzie had to be comfortable with the money or their relationship couldn't have worked out. He may not spend it as fast or easily as CJ but half of it is his. That's what all the prenup hoopla was about. I'm sure seeing how CJ stood by him against the dads had to give him a warm feeling and the realization they would be real partners.

Sir, what i did not get: CJ is César and Brett heir,  the parents paid for the house, what's the point in the boys having to sign papers along with the deed, related with a private mortgage, if the mobey CJ  and  Ozzie are going to pay it with César and Brett's own money. 

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