Shorty whistled as he walked into the stables. His morning
work load had been light and now he was looking forward to a quiet lunch with
Bo and the twins. He ducked his 6’2” frame out of habit as he entered the
shorter side door. He’d bumped his head more than a few times before habit took
hold. Shorty fully expected to see Jacob or Jarrod but neither twin was in
sight. It was clear that they had been here as a pitchfork was dangerously
tossed on the floor of the stall in front of him with its tines waiting to
injure anyone not paying attention. Shorty picked up the fork and leaned it
against the wall. He headed to the bunkhouse to have a word with the boys.
As he walked in the door he heard
drawers being slammed and someone cursing under his breath. He followed the
sounds to find Jacob in his room. His shirt sleeve was torn and bloody.
"Damned slacker," Jacob growled, tossing aside another shirt and
slamming another drawer. "Jerk!"
Jacob heard a sound behind him and
he turned with an angry expression on his face, until he realized it was Shorty
behind him. Suddenly he went very pale and as still as stone.
"What happened to you, Jacob?”
Shorty demanded as he gently pushed the boy down to sit on his bed before he
passed out. “And where is your brother?"
"Um, I um, I tripped. Fell
against that raw outer corner of Rummy's stall and scraped my arm." Jacob
finally said. "I was just looking for another shirt."
Shorty watched Jacob carefully as he
answered. Something didn't sound right with the explanation. "Let me look
at your arm. And while I'm doing that maybe you can answer the other
question."
"Other question? What was that?
Ow! My arm is fine, Shorty, really. I just scraped it. I'll be fine in no
time."
"I asked you where your brother
was, Jacob." Shorty repeated. "And your arm isn't fine, little boy.
You did more than just scrape it; I can see splinters in there. Did you
show your arm to Bo?"
“No, he’s out on a morning trail
ride with some of the guests.” Jacob answered. He tried to pull away but
got a light slap to the thigh for his troubles.
"Sit there and try to come up
with an answer to my question while I get the First Aid Kit." the
veterinarian said.
Jacob sat quietly and squirmed inwardly,
trying to figure out what he was going to say. Shorty wasn't one to put up with
lying, as he and his brother had both found out early on. He thought wildly of
what he could say that would be close enough to the truth to keep the two of
them out of trouble and looked up guiltily as Shorty came back into the room
with the first aid kit. He swallowed a hard lump when he saw the look on
Shorty's face.
From the expression on Jacob's face
Shorty knew he had somehow let Jarrod talk him into another bad idea.
"Jacob," Shorty quietly said. "Have you given any thought to my
question?"
When the boy didn't answer Shorty
knelt down and carefully cleaned the wound before pulling a couple of splinters
out. He was giving Jacob time to think as he dabbed the antiseptic cream on and
then bandaged the arm. "There, all done but after lunch I want you to go
see Heath just to make sure I got all the splinters out."
"Thank you." Jacob said
quietly, doing his best to avoid looking directly at Shorty. "Um, Jarrod
isn't here. He, um, went out, um, a little while ago. He, um, said he had
something to do." Jacob said evasively.
"Did he tell you what he needed
to do?" Shorty asked as he stood back up. "Or say when he would be
back?"
Jacob took a breath, stalling for time
he tugged at the bandage on his arm. "This feels a little tight, Shorty,
mind if I loosen it a bit?"
"Here let me check it,"
Shorty replied. He chuckled to himself knowing that his own irritation with
Jarrod had caused him to wrap the bandage too tight. Loosening the wrap he
asked, "Is that better?"
"Yeah, thanks. I, um, well, if
lunch is going to be ready soon I need to take a shower or something, so,
um," Jacob shrugged, “I'll go get washed up."
"Jacob, I just wrapped your
arm. You are not going to get in the shower. But I'll tell you what is going to
happen,” Shorty said as he pulled the boy to him smacking his butt hard enough
for Jacob to know he meant business, “if you don't tell me where Jarrod is
you'll find yourself across my lap."
Jacob swallowed again. It had always
been him and his brother against the world and they had never given each other
up, even to their parents. But was he willing to get his backside heated up to
protect his lazy brother? The answer was, yes. He couldn't give Jarrod up, no
matter what happened.
"He's, um, he's out. He'll be
back soon, I'm sure." Jacob found himself praying that Jarrod would walk
in right then. He glanced at the door, then back at Shorty pleadingly.
Shorty watched the emotions in
Jacob's face. He knew it wasn't fair to ask Jacob to betray Jarrod but it also
wasn't fair for Jarrod to put his brother in this position. "Let's have
lunch, little boy, and if Jarrod isn't back by the time we're finished I'll
call James and let him know we have a missing twin." He walked out of the
room knowing Jacob would follow.
Jacob took a breath and let it out
slowly. He knew that Shorty could very well have carried out his threat, but he
also knew that Shorty was a fair man and wouldn't ever punish him for something
that Jarrod had done.
He rubbed at the spot that Shorty
had already swatted and felt the lingering sting. He was very grateful that the
bigger man hadn't done worse. He wiped the nervous sweat off of his
forehead and followed Shorty down to the kitchen.
"Grab the bread and I'll get
the lunch meat out," Shorty instructed. In a long practiced dance, Shorty
quickly got the meat, cheese, lettuce and drinks from the fridge while Jacob
got the bread, plates and glasses out and onto the table. "Set a place for
Jarrod and Bo, too."
"Yes sir." Jacob replied,
glad that Shorty wasn't asking him questions anymore. He set four place
settings then went to the drawer where they kept the napkins. He took a stack
and put them on the table next to the mustard and mayonnaise. He looked to
Shorty for further instructions.
"Thank you, Jake," Shorty
said then pointing to a chair, "Come on, let's eat."
Jacob sat down but didn't move to
make a sandwich, his appetite gone.
Shorty simply nodded toward his
plate and said, "Eat."
Jacob knew it was better to do as he
was told, so he made his usual salami and cheese with mustard and took a
reluctant bite. He chewed slowly, his eyes glancing from the door to the clock
and back to the door while they ate.
Shorty didn't say anything as he
watched Jacob. He hoped Jarrod would show up before Jacob fretted himself in to
being sick. When Jarrod did get back they were going to have a very long talk.
Finishing his lunch well before Jacob had, Shorty stepped into the laundry room
to drop a load of clothes into the washer.
Jacob was having a hard time
swallowing his sandwich, but he knew that Shorty would insist he finish what he
took, and would be upset if he found the half eaten sandwich in the trash.
Just then Jarrod came through the
door, a wide smile on his face, a fishing pole in one hand and a wicker basket
in the other. "Check this out little brother! I got us a whole mess of
fish! We can have a fry tonight! Or maybe we can grill 'em. I could go for
that. How about you?"
Jarrod finally realized that Jacob
wasn't moving. He saw the two unused place settings and the one used plate. He
looked at his brother inquiringly and noticed the wide brown eyes, so much like
his own, glancing between him and something behind him. He slowly turned and
saw a large, angry Shorty behind him. He tried to gulp and speak at the same
time and ended up having a coughing fit.
Shorty waited for Jarrod to stop
coughing. "Drop the fish in the sink then get over there and plant your
butt in that chair, Jarrod." He turned to Jacob, "Finish your
lunch."
"Yes sir," Both boys
replied. Jarrod placed his fishing pole near the door, put the basket of fish
in the sink and sat without another word. He looked up at Shorty, not sure what
the man would do or say next. He was relieved when all Shorty did was turn
toward the basket of fish. The older twin had already cleaned them so he
wrapped them deftly and put them in the refrigerator so that they wouldn't go
bad.
Jarrod turned his attentions to the
food on the table. It smelled good and he was very hungry. He reached for some
bread and began to make himself a sandwich, taking bits of the meat and cheese
and gulps of soda as he made it.
He looked questioningly at his
little brother who shook his head slightly. They both glanced over at Shorty
and continued their silent conversation.
Picking up on the communication
between the boys Shorty all but growled. "No, Jacob didn't tell me where
you were, Jarrod. He's a loyal brother even if you used his loyalty to get your
way again."
Jarrod smiled a charming, engaging,
infectious smile. "Aw Shorty, he knows I love him like the brother I never
had." He joked. "I'd never throw him under the bus any more than he
would me." He looked back at Jacob and shined his smile on him. "One
for all..."
Jacob grinned shyly back and leaned
forward to give his big brother a hug. "And all for one."
"You might think this is funny,
Jarrod, but leaving your brother to do your work so you could go enjoy yourself
fishing is not funny or acceptable. What do you think James or Jeff will say
about you leaving the job to go fishing?"
"They'd ask me how the fish
were biting." Jarrod joked.
"Maybe I should call him and
see if that would be his response."
"You don't have to call James,
Shorty." Jarrod said, smiling the smile that had so often gotten not only
him but his brother out of trouble with their parents.
"No, I don't have to call him
because I can handle this myself," Shorty assured Jarrod. "Jacob, why
don't you go over to the infirmary and let Heath look at your arm? You might
need a tetanus booster."
For the first time Jarrod noticed
that his brother's arm was bandaged. "What happened to your arm,
bro?" he asked concern finally showing in his voice.
"I just slipped and fell, I'm
all right." Jacob said, self-consciously hiding his injured arm under the
table.
"Let me see it." Jarrod
demanded, putting a hand out.
"No, really, it was just a
splinter. I, um," he faltered seeing the expression on Shorty's face and understanding
what the older man hadn't said, “I'll just go see Heath now, shall I?"
"Jake..." Jarrod said, a
plaintive note in his voice, "I'm sorry, man..."
"It's ok, Jare. I'll be ok.
I'll be back, um, in a little while." Jacob said, getting up with another
glance at Shorty and looking away quickly as he saw the determination on the
older man's face and knew what was in store for his brother.
"Go on Jacob,” Shorty said.
"We'll be ok."
"Yes, sir." Jacob replied,
turning quickly to get out of the bunkhouse as quickly as he could. He didn't
want to hear what he knew was coming next. No matter what his brother had ever
done, Jacob had always hated to hear his big brother cry.
Shorty pulled out one of the chairs,
turning it away from the table. "I thought the last time we addressed the
problem of you taking advantage of Jacob you promised me it was going to be the
last time." He said watching the guilt spreading across Jarrod's face.
"But I guess you weren’t as serious as I am about this." Shorty held his
hand out to the young man who was like a son to him.
Jarrod flushed with guilt and looked
down at the floor. He knew he had it coming and he knew he deserved it. He had
to admit to himself that he did have a tendency to take advantage of his quiet,
little brother's loyalty. He held out a hand to Shorty and allowed
himself to be drawn closer to the big man. "I'm sorry, Shorty." He
said quietly.
"I'm not the one that needs to
hear that, Jarrod," the big man explained. He reached out and opened the
front of the jeans hanging loose on the young man’s hips then pulled just the
jeans down and guided him over his lap.
Jarrod gripped the legs of the chair
and waited for Shorty to begin. His heart was pounding and his breathing was
already shallow. His shoulders and back tensed, dreading the first of many hard
smacks he knew the grizzled veterinarian would deliver.
Shorty felt the tension under his
hand. He smiled hoping that maybe this time Jarrod would understand what he
did. He hoped that maybe he wouldn't need to repeat this lesson even if he knew
the spanking would only delay Jarrod's thoughtlessness not eliminate it. Shorty
raised his large hand and smacked both cheeks across his lap.
Jarrod nearly levitated at the
sharpness and sting. He never wanted to feel that hand on his bare rump.
His hand automatically went back to cover his backside. He fought down a cry.
Shorty gently pushed the hand down and away and continued what he'd been doing.
Jarrod was crying quietly when
Shorty heard a boot scrape behind him. He looked over his shoulder and saw
that Bo had come into the kitchen. Without missing a beat, he turned his
attention back to Jarrod. "I'll explain in a minute, if you have any
questions, Bo." He said conversationally.
Bo stood still, uncertain as to what
to do. Shorty had made him reread the contract and had explained the DP
aspect of the resort, but being so new he'd never seen it in action. He
realized that if it had been him he wouldn't want an audience, so he quietly
turned to go upstairs to wash and change, hoping that by the time he got back
it would be over. He winced as he heard the cries that were coming from Jarrod.
He showered and changed and then
went back toward the kitchen. He listened closely before walking back in. He could
hear Jarrod sobbing quietly and Shorty murmuring words of reassurance. He
looked in through the door and saw Shorty holding the young man, and rubbing
his back. Jarrod was holding on to Shorty as though his life depended on it.
Shorty held onto Jarrod until the
younger man's crying had more or less stopped. "Normally I'd send you
upstairs to take a nap, but I think you've had enough leisure time today, don't
you?" He asked gently.
"Yes sir." Jarrod replied.
He turned teary eyes up to look at Shorty and said, "I'm really sorry,
Shorty. I'll apologize to Jake when he gets back."
"Atta boy," Shorty
replied, giving Jarrod another reassuring hug, “Now, you get into that stable
and take over where Jacob left off. I'll be in in a few minutes to sand that
rough spot on Rummy's stall, just be careful in the meantime."
"Yes sir." Jarrod said
once again before turning to leave. He smiled bashfully at Bo before heading
toward the stable.
Bo wasn't sure if he had the right
to ask so he sat down at the table and began to make a sandwich, thinking about
what he'd seen and avoiding looking directly at Shorty.
Shorty cleared the used plates and
washed them, allowing Bo time to process what he'd seen. When he finished he
turned toward the stable master and asked, “Do you have any questions, Bo?
Anything you'd like to discuss?"
Bo swallowed the mouthful of
sandwich and took a drink before looking up at Shorty. "I don't know. My
mind is kind of whirling right now. Am I allowed to ask what happened?"
"Yes, you can ask." Shorty
replied, leaning casually against the counter. "Jarrod has a bad habit of
taking advantage of Jacob's quiet nature and loyalty, and takes off to go
fishing or swimming when he's supposed to be working. He did it again today. Granted
we'll have a great fish dinner tonight, but that doesn't excuse what he
did."
"If he does that so often,
why... I mean..."
"Why doesn't James fire
him?" Shorty smiled understandingly.
"Well, yeah. I guess." Bo
replied.
"Jacob and Jarrod are a package
deal, so to speak. They're very close and the best of friends. If we lost one
then we'd lose both, and despite Jarrod's penchant for slacking on occasion,
he's a good worker, they both are. They're loyal to James and the resort, and
they're usually dependable, that is until Jarrod gets one of his great ideas
and convinces Jacob to go along with it. Jarrod is ten minutes older than Jake,
and has the more outgoing personality. He sometimes makes rash decisions, like
he did today, but he's a good boy. They both are. They're like sons to
me." He said fondly. "They just need a little correction now and
again, as you saw."
Bo was silent for a minute, taking
in what he'd heard. He wondered if he would fall into the category of 'son'
once he'd been at the resort long enough for the two of them to become better
acquainted but was afraid to ask.
Shorty patted the stable master on
the shoulder feeling a tingle where his hand rested. He wondered if Bo felt it
too. "We can talk more later if you want. In the meantime, finish your
lunch. I have to call Heath to find out how Jacob is doing, all right?"
"Yes, thank you." Bo
replied softly.
Shorty smiled understandingly.
"I'll be right back." he said before going into the living area to
use the phone.
Bo sat and took another bite of his
sandwich, chewing slowly as he thought about what he'd seen and heard as he
absentmindedly rubbed his shoulder where Shorty’s hand had been.
<<<<>>>>
Knowing how important this get
together was for Jaxon, Mutt made short work of the paper he'd been assigned.
It hadn't been nearly as difficult as one of his engineering or math papers,
and a little research into psychology helped him flesh out his paper. He had
actually gone over the originally requested ten pages The last two being heart
felt apologies to both James and Jeff for going out of bounds in his role as
maintenance.
Mutt appreciated the fact that Jeff
had filed the paper in with his others, rather than just throwing it out, as
he'd heard some Tops did.
A few days later, Mutt and Jeff had
gone to buy the bulk of the supplies they'd need for the get together. Mutt had
been excited and kept putting extra items in the shopping cart which Jeff
promptly put back.
"You're not going to need that
much." He'd said sternly. "There are only going to be the three of
you. You're trying to buy enough to feed the resort."
"Yeah, but then there's you and
James and Heath... I'm sure you're going to want to eat something besides
dinner."
"I don't keep fit by eating a
lot of junk food."
"I do." Mutt grinned.
"Your work is more physically
taxing than mine is hon. I'm behind a desk most of the day."
"That's why I chose to do
maintenance work. I just can't stand the idea of being indoors and behind a
desk all day."
"I can understand that. I'm
glad that you're keeping up on your engineering education, though."
"Well, I won't be thirty
forever. I'm going to need something to fall back on when I'm old and decrepit
like you." Mutt joked.
Jeff leaned in and whispered, “I'll
show you who's old and decrepit when we get home, Brat."
"Promises, promises." Mutt
whispered back with a smile.
"I think we have more than
enough." Jeff checked his list. "Steaks, potatoes, vegetables, salad
fixin's, snacks, four different kinds of soda, some Corona, coffee and three
different pies for dessert. Can you think of anything else we need?"
Mutt pouted, “Why ask me, you'll
just put everything back."
"Matthew."
Mutt sighed. "How about rolls
and butter, or better yet, garlic bread, to go with dinner. And we need bread
and milk anyway, we're nearly out. We need sugar. And peanut butter and
strawberry jam, and some of those pastries with strawberry and cream cheese
filling that you put the icing on after they've been warmed up... you know the
ones I mean. And oatmeal, and..."
Jeff cleared his throat, a sure
attention getter for Mutt. The younger man stopped mid-sentence.
"Rolls and butter are a good
idea; we can pick up garlic bread as well just in case. We'll need sugar for
the coffee..."
"And bread and milk." Mutt added.
"Fine hon, but the rest of it
will have to wait until we go on our regular shopping trip. No arguments."
He said when he saw Mutt open his mouth to protest. "I'd hate to have to
call off the gathering on Saturday."
Mutt frowned but kept quiet as Jeff
brought the cart to the check out. He was quiet in the car on the ride home. He
remained silent as they brought the groceries in and put them away.
"Are you going to give me the
silent treatment all day?" Jeff asked.
At first Mutt didn't reply and then
he looked at Jeff, fire in his eyes though his tone held a hint of frost,
"You told me no arguments. You said you'd cancel Saturday if I argued. So
I'm not arguing."
"There's something more
bothering you, hon, talk to me."
Mutt carefully thought about what he
wanted to say. "You know how important Saturday is to me. How important it
could be to Jax, and I feel like you're holding it over my head. It makes me
worry that if I step one foot out of line you'll ground me and cancel Saturday.
It's... it makes me angry that you'd even consider it."
"You stopped yourself. It's'
what?"
Mutt had been going to protest that
it was blackmail but worried what would happen if he used a word that strong
and disrespectful.
"It's not entirely fair."
He answered lamely. "I know what our agreement is and most of the time it
doesn't bother me. But this is important, and I don't like that you're... I
feel like Wiley Coyote with the anvil over my head and nothing but a parasol
for protection."
"I'm sorry."
"You... what?"
"I'm sorry you feel that way.
Perhaps I was too hasty. We should have talked about it more, I think."
Mutt stood silently, his anger all
but gone. Jeff wasn't wrong very often but when he was he was the first to
admit it, and it always took the wind out of Mutt's sails when he did.
"So you're not going to keep
threatening to cancel Saturday every time you think I'm stepping out of
line?"
"No. We'll work something else
out."
"Like?" Mutt asked, his
stomach knotting a little.
Jeff went to the drawer where he
kept Mutt's notebook and pen and took them out. "Have a seat."
Mutt sat, trying to contain a scowl.
He hated writing lines. His handwriting wasn't the best and Jeff always
insisted that his lines be neat and legible.
Jeff wrote a short statement across
the top of the page as he usually did, and handed the pen and book over to
Mutt.
'I can't always get what I want, and
pouting doesn't help my case.'
"I want that fifty times.
Neatly. Any..."
"Any lines that don't meet your
standards will have to be re written. I know. I know!" Mutt groused.
"Up."
"What?"
"Stand up."
"Oh, Jeff..." Mutt began
to plead.
"Now."
Mutt stood and received three, sharp
swats to his backside and was plunked back down onto his chair without
ceremony. Mutt winced.
"Write."
Mutt sighed and began to write,
slowly and as neatly as he was able. By the tenth line he could see his writing
becoming wobbly so he stopped for a moment to flex his fingers. He heard Jeff
clear his throat somewhere behind him.
"I can write neatly or fast. I
can't do both." He snapped.
"Up." Jeff's voice came,
more closely this time.
"Jjjjeeeefffffff..."
"Stand."
Mutt stood and got three more for
his tone.
"Sit."
"Why do I feel like I'm in
church? Sit. Stand. Sit. Next you're gonna tell me I have to kneel." Mutt
grumbled. Not quietly enough apparently, since Jeff pulled him up by his arm,
bent him over the table and delivered six more with the large wooden spoon they
used when they made tomato sauce, bringing Mutt up onto his toes.
"Had enough?" Jeff asked
mildly.
"Yes, sir." Mutt gasped.
"You've been pushing your
luck."
"Yes sir."
"It's going to stop now."
"Yes sir."
"Then sit."
Mutt kept his mouth shut this time,
sat and continued to write, as neatly and as quickly as he could.
<<<<>>>>
Harry smiled as he drove his truck
to Masonville. He hadn't seen his mother since he and Brody moved to Teardrop
Lake Resort. He got word she had been moved to the assisted living home there
he and Brody had chosen for her. Near enough to the resort he could visit her
every day like he had before they moved to TLR. He pulled into the parking lot
and checked in at the desk, then located his mother's room. It had been set up
nicely and he was pleased. He greeted her. "Hello mom."
She looked at him and asked,
"Who are you?"
Harry was shocked. "It's me,
Mom, your son Harry."
"Oh, hello sweetheart, can I
make dinner for you? Harry should be home from practice soon."
Harry bit his lip. This was not what
he expected.
His mother looked up at him with a bright
smile and conversed with him as though he were his father instead of her son.
He left feeling agitated and guilty. If he had known this move would put her in
a setback he would never had moved her. He checked his mirrors and pulled out
of the parking lot feeling rather dispirited. He saw a bar not far down the
road and pulled in. He had turned off his phone when at the nursing home and
because he was so upset with things there had forgotten to turn it on as he
entered the bar and sat at a stool and ordered up a beer. When he had finished
that one, he ordered another one. Once that one was gone he knew it was time to
leave. Two beers was his limit if he was going to drive. He got into his truck
and headed on back toward TLR.
<<<<>>>>
Back at the resort Brody was
beginning to worry about Harry. He'd left to visit his mom well over four hours
ago and if this visit ran true to form he should have been home at least an
hour ago. He grabbed his phone and called his lover. When Harry didn't answer
Brody assumed Harry was still at the assisted living home with his phone off so
he didn't disturb any of the residents. After another 30 minutes Brody called
the home to see if Harry was there. Finding out Harry had left the home two
hours before, Brody called James and told him he was going to look for Harry
and if he showed up to give him a call.
"All right Brody, good luck. I
hope you find your man soon. If you have any problem, call me and we'll call
out security to track him down."
"Will do, James."
He was walking toward the resort
parking area when he saw Harry’s truck pull into the lot.
Harry smiled at Coral as he passed
the check point and pulled into the resident’s parking lot. He saw Brody. He
exited his truck and called, "Brody, I'm back...are you going
somewhere?"
"Not now am not, Babe. I was
going to look for you," Brody answered. He pulled Harry to him and leaned
in for a possessive kiss on the lips. First smelling the beer and then tasting
it he gave Harry a confused look.
Harry returned Brody's kiss and
asked, "Why were you coming to look for me? You know I was coming home
after I saw mom."
"You have been gone over four
hours. I was getting worried." Brody explained. "I called your phone
and the home. They said you left quite some time ago. So I was concerned."
Brody paused not sure how to say the next bit. "I'd say from the taste of
beer on your lips you stopped at a bar. Which means that you shouldn’t be
driving?"
Harry bit his lip. "Um...yes, I
did stop at a bar." He said quietly. "I only had two beers though
because I knew I had to drive home...I must have forgotten to turn my phone
back on." He pulled his phone out of his pocket and frowned as he saw it
was dark, then powered it on and saw that he had a message from Brody.
"I'm sorry Brody." He apologized.
Brody wrapped Harry in a hug.
"It's ok, Babe. Let's go back to the bungalow and talk about it." He
draped his arm around the other man's waist and guided him back toward their
home. As they walked Brody pulled his phone out and called James.
"Harrington here." James
answered.
"Hi, James, this is Brody. I've
found our tardy security guard." Brody said.
James smiled and said, "I'm
glad. Take care of your man Brody." He said a hint of sternness in his
voice.
Brody understood the tone James was
using and replied, “I will, James, I will."
James said with a smile in his
voice. "Good man, Brody."
"Thanks, James. Thanks for the
help, even if I didn't need it." Brody laughed. "Talk to you soon.
Bye."
James said, "You're welcome,
any time Brody. Good-night."
Brody pocketed his phone again still
keeping his arm around his man.
Harry walked with Brody back to
their bungalow.
Once inside Brody plopped down on
the sofa pulling Harry with him. "Why did you stop for the beer, Babe? Did
something upset you?" he asked as he pulled Harry into his side.
Harry picked at his fingernails and
bit his lip. "Mom wasn't her usual self." He said softly.
"Oh," Brody softly
said. "Tell me about it."
Harry looked down. "She didn't
know me...she thought I was Papa. At
first she asked who I was and then I told her and after that I still wasn't me,
but Papa." He told Brody softly. "If I had known this would happen
I'd never have moved her."
"Harry, I'm sorry that
happened, but I don't think the moved was the cause of her not knowing
you," Brody said trying to offer some comfort to his lover. "I'm sure
she is a little unsettled, but remember she was having trouble distinguishing
you from your Papa before we moved her. It’s the damn dementia."
Harry sighed. "I just hate that
I'm losing her and...Well she's still my mom and it's not right or fair."
"No, it isn't fair," Brody
agreed, "but we, you, are doing everything you can for her."
Harry nodded. "I know. It's
just hard Brody to see her slippin' away little by little." He sighed once
again and a single tear leaked out.
Brody leaned in and kissed the tear
away. "I know, Babe, I know," he softly added. His heart breaking for
this man, this son of a mother who didn't know him.
Harry leaned into Brody snuggling
close.
They were quiet for a few minutes
before Brody asked Harry, “Babe, did you eat anything this evening? Did you eat
before you drank the beer?" He knew his tone was a little sterner than he
meant it to be.
Harry shook his head and bit his
lip. "I thought I'd share supper with mom, but that didn't work out."
Brody wasn't sure if tonight was the
time to pursue these questions but he just couldn't keep the thought of him
losing Harry because of a slow reaction from the beer while he was driving back
to the resort. "What did you hope the beer would do for you, Babe?"
Harry said, "I'm not sure, calm
my insides I guess. I was feeling shaky and anxious inside because I didn't
want what was happening to my mom to really happen I guess." He tried to
explain.
"Did it? Did it calm you?"
Brody asked. "
Harry shrugged. "A little, but
I'm still worried. I know drinkin' isn't the answer, but a couple of beers
seemed good at the time."
"I’m glad to hear you say that
you know it wasn't the answer, Harry, because I have to agree with you."
Brody said. "And driving with even two beers in you isn't the answer
either."
Harry bit his lip. "I'm sorry
Brody, but I knew any more than that and I'd be illegal and if I'm in jail that
won't help anyone."
"If you're in a wreck and in
the hospital or worse it wouldn't help your Mom either." the younger man
pointed out. "I know I couldn't bear to lose you."
Harry looked down. "I wouldn't
have wanted that either Brody. I love you."
"I love you too, Harry."
Harry snuggled and kissed Brody.
Brody returned the kiss.
"Harry, I want you to promise me that the next time you feel the need to
drink you will only do it if I'm with you."
Harry looked at Brody.
"Why?"
"So you don't drive home under
the influence."
Harry asked, "Call you to join
me?"
"You could do that, and I would
come to be with you or you could just come home and we both could have a beer
here together." Brody answered.
Harry nodded. "All right, I
promise."
"Good," Brody said kissing
his partner, "because if I find out that you are driving with even one
beer in you your butt is going to answer for it."
Harry looked at Brody a bit stunned
and then said, "I won't have to worry about that Brody. You know I'm a
very responsible person."
"I know you are, Babe."
The younger man said as he pulled Harry up from the sofa. “I think it’s time
for bed.”
TBC
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