A Presidential Closet: Going Boldly Where No Gay Has Gone Before Read online

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  Part One

  A Presidential Closet: Going Boldly Where No Gay Has Gone Before

  July the fourth! A yearly milestone for most Americans. And this year, as with all other years, it just happened to coincide, luckily, or unluckily with Daniel’s birthday.

  And so it was, that this year, as he cringed at the sight of “happy 35th” on his oblong cake, his family and friends pointed at the large table bearing wrapped presents.

  He eyed them carefully. Mother always used the bright neon colors with over the top bows. Not hard to spot her gift. His sister Marsha had bought an entire industrial sized roll of yellow daisies and golden daffodils at ninety percent off, and was getting her money’s worth. Not hard to spot her gift either. Dad hated wrapping, and wouldn’t do it for life or limb. His childish ‘fairy tale’ theme bag was easy enough to spot.

  Daniel wondered if part of the reason he’d turned out gay was because he had a father still giving him ‘fairy tale’ gift bags at age thirty-five. He bristled at the thought, but still took immense pride in the fact he’d managed to keep such an orientation bombshell so very secret from everyone on the planet for so very many years.

  He quickly regrouped his thoughts, and spotted what he was certain was his younger brother’s poorly wrapped printer. Daniel had suggested to him that he badly needed a new printer, and he had even pointed out the make and model, knowing he would be only too happy to buy him something useful. It had been an expensive purchase as far as printers went, but then again it had a lot of really nice features and gadgets. His brother had obviously run out of his fancy striped paper, allowing the picture of a printer to poke through the left corner.

  There was, however, no chance of spotting similar sized gifts from his ten co-worker lawyers and politicians in attendance. He had already heard from the grape vine that they had put together to buy him an all-expenses paid trip to the Bahamas, to soak up the sun at a five star hotel and have some real fun. A lone beige colored envelope leaned inconspicuously against the wall. The first class plane ticket and exclusive hotel deal were neatly tucked away inside of it, just waiting for him to act surprised and excited when the time came.

  Billows of yummy smoke spiralled upward in the background. His dad was using his famed hickory BBQ sauce to enrich the already super succulent flavor of rib-eye steaks and marinated chicken breasts. Bowls of assorted salads waited in the background.

  He glanced at the two ice buckets on a picnic table, one sporting water and soft drinks, and one full of beer.

  A case of his favorite wine coolers was sitting next to them, with some of the bottles already packed in ice.

  “Before we eat,” Dad announced, and in a tone that was eerily similar to identical proclamations made on his previous birthdays, “I’d like us to raise our glasses in a toast to an amazing and talented son who has graduated Harvard, is a self-made multi-millionaire, and who is not only a lawyer, but a sitting second term congressman.”

  Daniel winced at the declaration. As successful as he was, and as handsome as he was, the implication was crystal clear. He had a long list of impressive accomplishments which unfortunately did not include finding a suitable lady to tie the knot with. He was still single and childless at thirty-five, with no girlfriend in sight with which to nurture a relationship that might give his anxious, impatient parents, grand-children. He hadn’t the heart to tell dear old dad that his dream son was gay. Neither would Daniel wish the uncovering of such a secret upon his doting mom. As far as Daniel’s parents were concerned, he was the salt of the earth, an extremely handsome and buff genius who could have any woman he wanted, and who, in time, probably would. Or so they thought.

  Daniel smiled coyly. What his parents didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. Although it might prevent him from marrying his long awaited dream bride. Or would it? Being married to a woman was one way to deflect the growing suspicions among snooping reporters that he was secretly running the gauntlet of certain private clubs that were famous for being protective of the identities of their gay members.

  He tried not to listen to his dad continue to fumble through a rambling monologue that mentioned his thirty-five year milestone yet again, while gingerly, yet awkwardly, side stepping the fact that he had garnered no luck finding a woman nor keeping a woman. To Daniel’s way of thinking, it was one of those catch 22 situations whereby he had become a victim of his own success.

  Men who aspired for greatness generally did get married young, and raised a family that could be bearers of the proud family name and collect a waiting inheritance. Daniel seemed to have everything but a wife and kids. He was very wealthy, with his businesses and congress job pulling down a seven figure salary. He had sizable investments, two stunning high end sports cars and a paid off luxury condo.

  He as well had a brilliant mind, and a no-nonsense personality. He was also being hounded by all his colleagues to run for the United States Senate. They felt he was underachieving as a mere congressman. Little did they know that Daniel had even greater aspirations. Recent polls he’d secretly commissioned told him the startling news that he was astonishing high in the polls when held out as a possible candidate for president of the United States. As such, he was determined to stay firmly locked in the closet.

  People might continue to vote for a sitting congressman, or perhaps even a senator if he were limp wristed. But as a presidential candidate? He sighed wearily at the thought. Even if he were wrong in thinking that the American people were not quite ready for a gay president, there would be no way to capture a Democratic nomination. His peers would be afraid of potential November voting backlash. If he tanked, then their supported Congress and Senate runs would tank as well.

  People had shown they were ready to vote for a black man as president. And had almost voted in a woman to the post. But someone who was gay? He took a somber moment to ponder his fate. If he did run for the oval office, then his life would be dug into and scrutinized from every possible angle. That would make him vulnerable to blackmail, scandal, and of course, the possibility his parents would find out in the news that their cherished son loved men far more than he loved women.

  He sighed at the weight of the problem. Such was life, and yet, he had never let such dangers stop him from achieving his lofty goals before. He was always wildly successful in anything he put his hand to, and running for president, in his mind, although extremely risky, held great rewards.

  He was therefore smart enough to know that the time for him to run was definitely now, but only if he could manage to stay locked firmly away in the dreaded secret closet. The time was not yet ripe for a gay man to go all the way. Even as a staunch Democrat, and even in a country where left wing politics were seemingly coming to the fore, being ‘outed’ as a gay candidate would certainly spell the death of any presidential campaign he dared to make. And so the question remained. Could he make a run for
the presidency and not be outed?

  This was an especially important question since fellow men tended to feel intimidated by his success and uncanny popularity. Everyone was in awe of his smarts, both academically and streetwise. And he seemed to be a sensational money manager, building an impressive wealth. Still, he had also built a resistance to romantic tom-foolery with members of the opposite sex, so much so that people were starting to wonder if he actually liked women at all, even though he insisted that he did.

  Most in the media and social circles rejected the notion that Daniel must be gay, and offered the explanation that he was far too busy, practising law, making money and representing his constituents in congress to bother with girlfriends. Others supposed he was simply one that guarded his heart extremely carefully, keeping his senses on high alert, not wanting to get mixed up with the wrong woman, and protecting his feelings with even more scrutiny than the security forces at Fort Knox.

  Some others were of the opinion that he merely loved to sow his wild oats, and that he wasn’t quite ready to settle down with any one girl as yet.

  Others felt that he was not an easy man to romance or win over, and that for that reason, most women couldn’t be bothered going after him. They surmised that women would simply rather throw up their arms in despair and give up trying, rather than run their mind’s ragged trying to get his attention and keep it. All he seemed to care about was politics and making money. And yet, just like any successful gambler, he kept his cards close to his vest.

  Some of his tight knit friends had their suspicions, and their fair share of internal systems of cautionary scrutiny which had kept him suspect as perhaps being gay and still in the closet at such a lofty age. Some of his friends had to wonder if Daniel was the only impeccably handsome thirty-five year old male on the planet that had not been spotted tasting the pleasures of female flesh. He had told them he was drowning in women, and yet they never saw any.

  Daniel now frowned at his own thoughts, and tried not to listen to his father still continue his well-meaning but insipid ramblings. Like everyone else in Daniel’s life, dear old dad had been carefully lulled into a false state of believing his son could never be gay. Nowhere was it etched in stone that all men had to be married or at least engaged at thirty-five, or even ever have had steady girlfriends at all. And nowhere was there a law saying that a man had to make it his duty to ask any of his one night stands to sacrifice her world class, hour glass figure to produce a slew of ankle biting, poop filled diaper wearing, snot nosed brats that would wreak havoc on her pristine, gravity defying breasts.

  Daniel often would use the excuse that he was from that rare breed of men that honestly preferred never to be a father and thereby never have children if that were possible. And although he had to lie to his friends that he did indeed get unbearably horny for women at times, he also had to lie to them about having an imaginary little black book that he could flip through whenever he got the urge for some vaginal company.

  What Daniel conveniently left out, was the tidbit of information that he did own a rather efficient vibrator with which to quench the rabid desires of his own rear end whenever the need arose.

  Daniel gave off an aura of superiority towards women, and even other men, letting them know he wasn’t afraid to compete on any playing field they chose, and that he could beat members of the so called ‘normal’ heterosexual sex on absolutely any of those playing fields. But it hadn’t come without a price. As sexually endowed as he looked, women were afraid to go near him. The fear of rejection and being scorned was prevalent in the people he met socially, so much so, that many tried not to get involved with him.

  His ears suddenly picked up on the customary tingle of glasses. Seeing as how it was the fourth of July, they were giving him a well-deserved toast on a day they would have been celebrating whether he had been born on it or not.

  Born on the fourth of July! He wondered if that had been part of his problem in attracting token women on his arm, the fact that fate had put him under a rather auspicious sign that was going to call for glasses raised whether he was around or not. Perhaps it had always been ingrained in him that he had to try harder to get noticed, and harder to get his due.

  “Speech…speech…speech,” everyone began chanting.

  It was now Daniel’s time to spit out some speech, but he fumbled with words that, although rehearsed, and with high expectations, now seemed like sawdust in his mouth. He thanked his maker, a must since his parents were staunch Christians. Then he thanked his loving parents, his cherished goofy brother, his savvy sister, and his ten fabulous friends and co-workers who shared his passion for politics and law. They often worked alongside of him in his congressional office. He was careful while speaking, not wanting to give away the fact that he knew they had put together for the secret vacation. He also thanked his friends and co-workers for coming out to spend some time with him on his birthday when it would mean taking time away from their own families on such an important celebratory day of the year.

  They clapped politely as he finished, and he filled in the time by mentally counting them one by one just to kill the embarrassingly long clap they always gave him on his birthday. And he’d had thirty-five years at practising it. But that was when he noticed him, an extra person in the mix. An eleventh worker? He knew for a fact that all ten of the lawyers and assistants that worked under him, were in attendance, so who was extra? An eleventh worker? Really? How could he possibly not know a guy that worked for him?

  He slipped on the eye glasses he had been holding in his hand, and saw more than just eleven vague outlines. He saw the new smiling face in the background. And suddenly he recognized that new face. It was Andrew Jackson. His heart skipped a beat.

  Andrew was not a fellow political enthusiast, working in the congressional office. Nor yet was he another political lawyer, nor even someone that worked for him in one of his businesses. Rather he was the owner of the building that he rented for his congressional office.

  Daniel now eyed him up and down carefully. Andrew was a landlord who would generally come by to allay their concerns over such things as faulty wiring, malfunctioning air conditioning, or peeling paint that needed to be replaced. At one point they had picked up an infestation of mice, but Andrew’s fast thinking hire of top notch exterminators had nipped the scourge in the bud.

  Now that Daniel thought of it, Andrew had always seemed to manage to stop by his office to say hello, and his bright cheery smile was something he got to look forward to whenever they met on the ground floor elevator. They would exchange pleasantries on the way up, and he would always seem to be just one step short of asking him out. Daniel fought against that last thought. As a congressman Daniel had always pretended to be straight for re-election purposes. But did Andrew suspect he was actually gay? And if so, how? And might that mean that Andrew was gay also?

  Daniel had heard from other building tenants through their grapevine that Andrew was deliciously single, loaded to the gills with paid off buildings, and saddled with far too much cash for one person to hope to ever spend in a hundred lifetimes.

  Andrew always made the obligatory small talk, yet seemed very discerning in who he talked to on a broader scale, and what information he shared. Yet he did come across as extremely well mannered, polite and friendly. He didn’t act pretentious, overbearing, self-absorbed or full of himself, a refreshing change from most of the other rich males that frequented the prestigious building.

  Andrew eyed him once more, seeming to recall he’d had light brown hair. Only now, he found his new stylish shock of coiffured dyed blond hair to be cute, and his piercing blue eyes gorgeous and purposeful.

  “I’d also like to thank my landlord Andrew for stopping by. I don’t recall that we’ve ever met on a social note before, so it’s a nice development.”

  Andrew smiled and raised his glass. Daniel cringed at his use of the word ‘development.’ Why had he sounded so damn formal? It irked Daniel that he seemed so
verbally clumsy in social environments around family and friends, and yet was such a powerhouse when making speeches either on television or from the congressional floor.

  “There are rumors you’re running for the U.S. Senate next fall,” Andrew said, his face beaming. “I just wanted to get to say hi to you again before you become far too busy for us little folk.”

  The crowd suddenly eyed Daniel in earnest. He was going to run for Senator? Really?

  Daniel’s dad was the first to try and flesh out the new rumor as being mere gossip or reality.

  “You’re going to try for a Senate seat? Really son?”

  “No, not really,” he shot back.

  The room was suddenly deflated. It was as though his denial had let the damn air out of everyone’s tires. Daniel quickly sought to re-inflate the mood. It was time to float an even bolder idea he’d had smoldering around in his mind for some time now.

  “Actually, I was thinking to toss my hat into the presidential ring.”

  There was suddenly stunned silence in the room. Daniel? Running for president? Skipping over the next logical step as Senator to try and become the President?

  Daniel explained his visions of grandeur further. “If things flesh out over the next couple of months with financial backers and political endorsements, then I will be running to be the Democratic nominee for president in next November’s election.”

  Thus ends Part One of the Series, A Presidential Closet

  “A Presidential Closet: Boldly Going Where No Gay Has Gone Before.”

  Part Two, of A Presidential Closet will begin shortly.

  It is titled, “A Presidential Closet: Attack of The Homophobes,” and it will be uploaded February 14th and be free for you to download from February 10th to February 19th/ 2017.

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  For your continued reading pleasure, Amy Stranhouse would like to thank you for your patronage by including two free gay romance stories in this offering.