Plaquemines Parish

By: Pee Jay
(© 2009 by the author)

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

Chapter 7

 

 

I went back inside feeling as if the weight of the world were taken from my shoulders. Everything was right between Mom and I. It was a major relief. I was also looking forward to spending time with her and her new boyfriend, Bill, the next day.

 

Steve and Mike were sitting in the living room talking quietly, so I plopped down on the sofa with my hands behind my head and eased back. I exhaled deeply. They stopped their conversation and looked at me as I let a contented smile cross my face. They were stuck with me now, and I was more than happy to be with them. Things couldn't have worked out better. Mom was supportive and wanted to get to know Dave; that made me feel good. It occurred to me that maybe Mike and Steve had something to do with that, so I decided to ask them.

 

Before I could formulate a question, Steve said, "Well, Sport, that didn't go so bad did it?"

 

"No. Something tells me you guys knew how it was going to turn out. I wish you would have said something, I was going crazy."

 

Steve chuckled, "Yeah, we had a pretty good idea. Your mother didn't commit to anything on the phone, but the more we talked with her the more she seemed to understand what you went through back there. She was struggling with the notion that she was abandoning or somehow giving you up by letting you stay here. That was her biggest fear. Then she had a problem with the money side of things. She didn't want you costing us anything and wasn't sure if she could afford to pay us. When you got a job, and we told her you insisted on paying room and board while you were here, she actually laughed saying that sounded like her little man."

 

I butted in on him, "Steeeeve.” He knew darn well what he was saying. He was aware of the tit-for-tat thing that Mom and I had going with the expression.

 

They both laughed at my objection to that annoying term.

 

Then he continued, "Anyway, we were relatively sure that she was okay with it. She needed a little time to digest things after we presented the facts. As hard as it was for her, she wants what's best for you, even if it means letting you go before she's ready," then he paused for a brief moment. "Do you know she has a new job?"

 

"Yeah, she's an executive secretary ... has been for a month or so."

 

"Oh, okay, I wasn't sure if you knew."

 

Mike cleared his throat, then eyed me with that stern look that only Mike can give. The one that means 'pay attention, I have something to say'. It was a little spooky, because I had seen the look a couple times, and one of those times he blew a gasket, so I sat there quietly waiting on him.

 

A moment later, he began, "There's a few guidelines that Steve and I want to establish as long as we're having a chat."

 

That wasn't surprising coming from Mike. He was probably getting off on being able to boss someone around, that being me! However, I was paying for the space I was occupying, and now he wanted to tell me what I can and can't do; ha! Fat chance.

 

"Go ahead, Big Daddy; what's on your mind?"

 

This wasn't off to a good start but I thought I would hear him out. What could it hurt?

 

"First of all," Mike said, "we know you're going to the Quarter with your mother tomorrow, and we hope you have a good time. After that, the Quarter is off limits unless you’re with one of us; is that clear?"

 

I couldn't see what the problem with the French Quarter was. "I suppose. What's the big deal about the Quarter? What if I want to visit Rob? He lives there."

 

Then super-cop had to know who Rob was, so I told him. Mike went on to explain, in general terms, some of the things that went on in the Quarter and how it was no place for a kid, especially after dark.

 

When he finished, I objected to being called a kid. Steve reminded me that although I may be a young man, I was still a minor and unaware of some of the perils that exist in the world. When he said that, Mike remembered my fake ID and told me to go to my room and get it. I reminded him that he had it in his back pocket with my money.

 

Now I was worried. That fake ID cost a lot, and it was my ticket to freedom or, more specifically, independence, if I needed it.

 

Mike went to the kitchen, and returned with a pair of scissors. He retrieved the ID from his back pocket and handed them to me.

 

I looked at him with a puzzled look on my face. I sort of knew what he was getting at, but I was trying to think of how to get around it. I looked at Steve, he wasn't giving any ground, so I looked back at Mike and said, "Yeah, and what am I supposed to do with these?"

 

"Three guesses and the first two don't count," he said sternly. I looked down at the ID and the scissors I was holding. Shit, he can't be serious; this has to be some kind of joke or something. I would be giving up my independence, my freedom to run for the hills if the going got tough. I thought to myself, 'No way is Mr. Fucking Important going to make me to do this. Who the hell does he think he is, anyway'?

 

I looked up at him to see if he was going to smile or laugh. It didn't look like it, so I looked back down at my ID. When I looked up again, Mike raised both eyebrows, pursed his lips and cocked his head at me.

 

Dammit. He seemed to be intent on this, so I said, "Mike, you can't be serious. I paid two hundred dollars of my hard-earned money for this ID. Do you expect me to cut two hundred dollars in half? Just throw it away? That's not very smart."

 

"Yes, I do," he said directly. "It wasn't very smart of you to get it in the first place. Think of it as a poor investment; wrong from the start, because that's what it is. Do you realize that you could have a police record if you're caught with it? How smart is that?"

 

God, I hate the way he's always right. After some thought, I said, "Not very smart, I guess. But Mike, I paid two hundred dollars for this. It's the most expensive thing I ever bought, and now I'm supposed to throw it away? C'mon, Mike, have a heart." Maybe pleading with him would work. He has to have a soft spot somewhere; after all, he's human.

 

"Do you want one of us to do it for you?" he asked succinctly. "It's going to happen, Sport, one way, or the other."

 

I sighed, defeated and outgunned by Big Daddy. I raised the scissors and placed them at the bottom edge of my two-hundred dollar folly. I looked up at Steve to see if he was going to come to my rescue. He was grinning ear to ear, enjoying the whole thing.

 

"It's not funny, Steve," I said. Then I started smiling, too, because he knew, that I knew, that I was outflanked. I exhaled, then cut the stupid thing in half, and said, "There! Are you guys happy, now?"

 

"Consider it a cheap lesson," Steve said with a grin on his face. "It was a bad decision and a waste of good money. Be thankful it didn't cost more than it did."

 

"Yeah, but that was hard to do. Man, I spent so much money on that ID. I bought it so I could buy my own bus ticket out of hell. I had to show it to open my bank account, too."

 

"That's something else we have to talk about," Mike said. "But we can save that for later; we made enough progress for one day. Let's eat lunch."

 

Steve stood up, smiling, then winked saying, "You hungry, Val?"

 

"Yeah."

 

Mike put his arm around Steve and kissed him as they led the way to the kitchen. Steve put his arm around Mike's waist, tightened his hold, then eased up. As they went arm in arm to the kitchen, I couldn't help but think how lucky I was. Yeah, I had to cut the ID in half but there probably wouldn't be a need for it now. Besides, it likely was a dumb thing to do, but it was the only way I could think of to get out of the situation I was in. Oh well, it worked out for the good. I'm here now and happier than I've been in a long time. I smiled to myself, liking the idea of Mike and Steve as dads. If I had to have dads, I couldn't think of two better dudes for the job.

 

And how could I complain about them? They took me in from the very beginning, not knowing anything about me. I could have ripped them off; not that I would, but they didn't know that. I was beginning to feel sheepish for what I had taken for granted—namely, their generosity and concern. They really did care. They actually interceded on my behalf with Mom, too. They wanted me to be here with them. Would I ever do something like that? I mean … take in a stranger like they did? It was a lot to think about. I was probably going to owe them more than I could ever repay. Christ, it felt like I already did.

 

Steve was fixing something to eat for us, while Mike sat at the table. I had the idea to help, so I asked, "Anything I can do, Steve?"

 

"Get some glasses and pour us some ice tea if you don't mind."

 

"Ten-four! I'm on it, dude."

 

After I poured our drinks, I sat opposite Mike and looked at him, then I looked at Steve, working at the counter. I was overcome by a flood of emotion and said, "I really appreciate all that you guys have done for me. I feel like I should be paying more than I am."

 

Steve looked my way for a second, then looked away with a smile saying, "We're glad we can help. It's a bigger adjustment than we initially thought, but we like having you here. Make sure you hold up your end of the bargain, and we'll all be fine."

 

"I will Steve. I promise."

 

Then a thought crossed my mind. I had never seen or heard them speak of friends. Surely two attractive and successful guys have friends; where were they? I never heard them talk on the phone or noticed anyone coming over. It was strange when I thought about it. I didn't have friends, because I just moved here and school hadn't started yet; but this was home for these guys, born and raised. Where were their friends and families? Could it be they were so happy together that they didn't socialize or need anyone beyond themselves? That sounded a bit out there, so I said, "I haven't noticed anyone calling or coming over. I mean like your friends …  type thing. Is it because of me?"

 

Mike jerked his head up from the magazine he was reading and focused on me. I felt like I was under a spotlight. Geez, I swear, the guy should have been an interrogator, but for him, it wasn't a put on; it was simply Mike. He returned his gaze to the magazine.

 

Steve looked over as he was putting things back in the fridge, "Why do you ask, Val?"

 

"I don't know. I figured you guys must have friends, but nobody's called or come around. It struck me as unusual, that's all."

 

Mike turned to look at Steve and their eyes locked for a few seconds. He turned back around facing me directly and said, "Did you listen to our messages?"

 

Where did that come from? I stuttered out my reply, "N...no Mike, I swear; I didn't go near your phone. I have my own. I wouldn't do that, anyway. Mike, it was an honest question, that's all."

 

He was making me feel guilty as hell, and I hadn't done anything. Good God, will I ever get used to that grilling he does so effectively? I didn't think so. I figured I hit a nerve, and it really wasn't any of my business. There was a strange silence in the kitchen. All of a sudden it seemed like I didn't know these guys at all, and a short while ago we were like best friends; it was weird.

 

"I'm sorry, it's none of my business; forget it," I said, fidgeting with the centerpiece. That thing comes in handy when fielding fire from Mike!

 

Mike exhaled, pushing the magazine aside and leaning back in his chair. He looked at me squarely. Geez, here we go again; round two and it's only lunchtime; sigh.

 

"You're a little too smart for your own good. You know that?" he said sullenly, then gave in to a wan smile.

 

At least he wasn't mad. Thank God for that.

 

"You're wearing me out, Mike. I'm gonna have to take a nap if you don't lay off for a while."

 

That made him beam a big one, a grin that is; I was glad to see it. Steve walked over placing a plate in front of each of us and stood next to me massaging my shoulder with his hand. It felt good, but more than that, it was reassuring; like someone was on my side for a change. I rested my head against him, placing an arm around his waist.

 

Mike said, "We asked our friends to stay away for a couple weeks, while we all adapt to our new arrangement. This is a big change for us too, Val; you're not the only one going through it."

 

Now he plays the guilt-trip card. I give up. I'm never coming out on top with him; he's too much. The only possible way around Mike is through Steve; that's all I can think of. Not that I have a hidden agenda, but still, it's good to know or, at least, keep in mind.

 

"I feel bad about getting in the way of your friends. Is there something I can do so you guys can be normal again?" That didn't come out right, so I added, "What I mean is … can I do something different so you guys can spend time with your friends? You know enjoy yourselves. You don't have to supervise me twenty-four-seven, ya know; I'm trustworthy."

 

"It's okay, Sport. You're in our care now, and we want our friends to meet and like you as much as we do. It'll come in due time."

 

God, that sounded good, especially coming from Mike. I wondered if he had to force that out. Not really, but it was one of those few indications that Mike let slip, allowing you to know how he felt about you. I was glad he said it.

 

Steve sat down and we talked as we ate. He was being his genial self, while Mike was having the final say, as always. I guess it worked for them, but if Dave ever tried that, I think it would bother me.

 

It was hard to figure Steve out. I saw Mike screw him in the hot tub, and yet Steve wasn't girlish or effeminate. He was every bit a man. Cute in a masculine sort of way with a certain prettiness about him, I wished I could be like him. What I mean to say is that he didn't look like a girl. He had soft features, the kind that made you want to caress and hold him. He also seemed to demure to Mike and allow him to take the lead on most things. Isn't that what wives do? It was very confusing and difficult to understand.

 

When we finished eating, I rose to clear the table and clean up. Mike and Steve went to the backyard to relax in the afternoon sun. When I finished, I looked out the kitchen window to see both of them sitting on the deck with their shirts off. I wondered where Mike got his muscles since they didn't have work-out equipment at the house; surely he couldn't maintain a physique like that at his age without putting some effort into it. And Steve, well he had that smooth supple body that I could only hope for. I was on the thin side in comparison and hated it.

 

I went out to the deck and said, "I'm getting ready for work and going by Dave's to say hello."

 

"He's grounded. Where are you really going?" Mike said.

 

I only told Steve about Dave's grounding, so how did Mike know? 'Get a clue dummy,' I thought silently, ‘they talk’!

 

"Mike, I've been seeing him every day in his garage, on my way to work. We talk for a few minutes, then I leave for work; that's it."

 

He sat there like an oaf or a bump on a log—something inert anyway. Was he about to stifle this, too?

 

I decided to try the 'get to Mike through Steve' idea, "C'mon, Mike, it's nothing. Tell him, Steve, will ya? I'm just going to say hi; he's expecting me." Geez, he was taking this guardian thing seriously.

 

"Okay. I don't want you getting on the wrong side of his parents, that's all. So be careful, Sport, and have a good day at work."

 

"Thanks; see you guys in the morning."

 

When I made it to Dave's house, there was no sign of him anywhere. The garage door was closed and the house looked abandoned. Damn! He knew I would be here; where is he? I stood on the opposite corner trying to figure out why he wasn't there or where he might be. We were supposed to meet at this time every afternoon before I had to report for work; it was rehearsed. Nothing new as far as the last four days went, anyhow. I decided to check out the garage, our appointed spot.

 

Nothing, no sign of life. I was standing with my back to the sidewall of the garage, his house on the opposite side. His absence was troubling, considering all that had happened. Mom, the guys and my ID, everything. I wanted to be in his company so bad and forget the events of the day.

 

I heard the side door slam, perking me up. Maybe that was him! I walked around to the door and looked inside. It was Dave! I rushed inside pushing the door open with a bang, wrapping my arms around him, and hugging him the way I always do. I grabbed him tight and kissed his mouth like I never had, as I may never do again; I kissed him hard, wanting nothing more than to be where I was, with Dave.

 

When our lips parted, in each other's arms I said, "I get to stay here. Dave we can be together now; it's legal. Mike and Steve took me in. I live in New Orleans now!"

 

"I'm so glad to hear that," he said smiling. "I couldn't help thinking you would be going back, and where would I be? Come here," he said, taking my hand. "I was so worried."

 

We walked over to an old picnic table bench against the wall. He pulled it out some then we sat down. I sat next to him. He put his arm around me, and I took his hand, intertwining my fingers with his.

 

There was only one car in the garage, and I guessed it was his father's, since a different car had been there all week.

 

Dave said, "My best friend, Greg, came by yesterday after you went to work. I was cutting the grass in the front yard while Mom was grocery shopping, so we sat on the porch for a while. I told him I met someone I cared for. I didn't say 'love', because I thought he might freak out. When I told him your name he wanted to know how big your tits were."

 

We both started laughing and choking for a few minutes. When we reached the snickering stage, I asked him, "Did he think I was a girl when you told him my name?"

 

"Yeah, he thought your name was spelled V-a-l-e-r-i-e. So I spelled it for him V-a-l-é with an acute accent-r-y. He had a confused look on his face, so I told him it was a boy's given name like the French politician, Valéry Giscard d'Estaing. I watched him put two and two together for a minute, then he had a perplexed look on his face. I was nervous but the timing seemed right, so I told him I was gay."

 

"No shit. What did he say?"

 

"I've been wanting to tell him since we came back from vacation. Plus … I haven't seen him much since you've been here. He thought I was mad at him. To answer your question, he was kinda quiet and didn't say much."

 

"So how did he take it? Did he freak out or anything?"

 

"No, and I knew he wouldn't. We've been best friends since second grade. I know him better than his mother does. He said it was cool with him. I made him promise not to tell anyone, and he left soon afterward. I think it bothered him even though he said he was okay with it. He was acting strange. I think he needs a little time to get used to the idea."

 

"Do you trust him?"

 

"For sure. Like I said, we've been best buds forever; since they moved here from Baton Rouge."

 

"Cool."

 

I checked the time on my phone, then said, "It's getting late. I have to get going. Hey, I'm going with Mom and her new boyfriend tomorrow to the Quarter, then lunch. She said she wants to get to know you; I thought that was pretty cool of her. Do you think you can get ungrounded and go?"

 

"I don't know. If I tell Mom the truth, she probably won't let me go. I'm not supposed to go there."

 

"Me either. I can only go if I'm with Mike or Steve, and of course it's okay if I'm with Mom. Hey, I have an idea! Ask her if you can go to lunch with us, we're going to the yacht club at Lake Pontchartrain. Maybe she'll be okay with that."

 

As I stood up, Dave said, "I'll ask. All she can say is no."

 

We hugged and kissed again, then I had to get going if I didn't want to be late for work. When we left the garage using the service door, his father was coming out the back door of the house. Dave pushed me back inside the garage and pulled the door shut.

 

I stood quietly. I heard their voices but couldn't understand what they were saying. A few moments longer and the service door opened with Dave's father surveying the garage. He was squinting as his eyes adjusted to the dimly lit space. I was standing close enough to touch him, my back against the wall as I trembled with anticipation. All I could think of was Dave getting into more trouble because of me.

 

His father finally saw me and said, "What are you doing here?"

 

I was busted and lost for words; not to mention scared shitless.

 

"Nothing," was all I managed to squeak out.

 

I had the urge to run but he was blocking the door. Shit, how do I keep getting into these awkward situations? I have the worst luck of anyone I know. I wished Mike or Steve were here.

 

"Why are you dressed like that?"

 

"I'm on my way to work. I stopped for a minute to say hi to Dave; that's all."

 

"Where do you work?"

 

"The Admiral's Palace; I'm a waiter."

 

I couldn't look him in the eye any longer, so I looked at the floor.

 

"That's a nice restaurant," he said in a more cordial tone. "Now get your butt out of here," he said, stepping aside and nodding toward the door.

 

I didn't need any more encouragement. I took off running and didn't stop until their house was out of sight. I slowed to a walk, perspiring from my block long sprint to safety. As I waited for the streetcar, I worried about Dave getting deeper into trouble and maybe having his sentence extended. Damn; lately it seemed if it weren't one thing it was another. When will things settle down and return to some kind of normal?

 

All night long, the only thing I could think of was Dave, and how he might be in more trouble. We were busy so I didn't have a lot of time to dwell on it, but it bothered me just the same.

 

Rob finished before me and waited so we could ride the streetcar home together. We seemed to get along well and I liked him. He was friendly and fun to talk with. The fact that he was gay was another common thread we shared. We would point out hot looking guys to each other during work commenting on what we liked about them. He thought he was three years older at twenty-one, because I was supposed to be eighteen. In fact, he was five years older, which practically made him an adult as far as I was concerned, and a very good-looking one at that.

 

Rob had that 'pretty boy' look like Steve, though he looked very different. Steve had the look in a mature kind of way, while Rob still looked boyish. I preferred Steve's look, but that's not to say Rob wasn't attractive; he most certainly was. He had long dirty blond hair, mostly straight with a gentle wave in the right places that seemed to suggest motion and, I have to confess, a nicely shaped derriere.

 

As we rode the streetcar home, I couldn't help but think about what Mike said before I left for work. He was worried that I would cause a problem for Dave, and that's exactly what happened. I hated the thought of what may come to pass if Dave were in trouble again. I decided to be upfront with Mike and tell him what happened; maybe he would have an idea or some words of wisdom.

 

"You're awful quiet tonight," Rob said.

 

I looked into those deep blue eyes, not realizing I was wrapped up in my own thoughts. "Yeah, I s'pose. I was thinking."

 

Outside the dimly lit streetcar, the night was black, save for the occasional streetlight at intersections. There was a hint of Jasmine and Bougainvillea in the air as we passed blocks of stately old homes with lush landscaping.

 

We were the only ones riding at that time of night, as usual. It made the trip rather intimate; it seemed like our own personal streetcar.

 

Rob put his hand on my leg and said, "Do you want to come to my place for a drink?" Then he moved his hand up and down my thigh.

 

I would be lying if I said it didn't feel good, but I was with Dave. He was the only guy I wanted, period.

 

"I'm sorry, I can't go. I'll get in trouble if I don't go straight home."

 

"Do you live with your parents?" he asked.

 

"Yeah, and besides; I wouldn't cheat on Dave for anything. I love him."

 

He smiled and said, "I knew I liked you, Val, and I like you more for having said that. Dave's a lucky guy. I hope he knows what he has." He paused, stroking my cheek with the back of his index finger. "You must spend a lot of time in the sun. The streaks in your hair are obviously the real thing, not from a salon. It compliments your brown hair and blue eyes. You're very good looking; you know, some would say hot." Then he chuckled.

 

I was nervous as hell. Sure, I thought Rob was attractive, but I never had anyone say something like that to my face. It made me very uneasy—uptight would be more accurate. It was starting to feel clammy in the streetcar.

 

"I'm the lucky one, Rob; that's the way I see it. He's so much better than me. I can't believe he wants to be with me. His family's rich and ..." I stopped, realizing I was passing on too much information; things that were personal, and our friendship hadn't reached that point yet.

 

He sensed my anxiety, saying, "I'm sorry for putting you on the spot. I hope we can be friends."

 

"That would be nice. I'd like that." That was the truth, too; I liked Rob, and we got along well. It would be nice to have a friend in New Orleans—someone to talk with.

 

I got off at my stop, and the two of us wished each other a good night. I walked to the house and let myself in. It was rather early for a Saturday, so I went to the fridge and reached for a beer. Then I caught myself. I changed my mind, knowing Mike and Steve's position on alcohol so I took a bottled water. I unbuttoned my shirt and threw it with the bowtie on a chair. On the deck, I reclined in a chaise lounge and took in all the night offered. I took a sip of water and exhaled trying to make sense of the day's events.

 

The only sounds were the Cicadas chirping in the trees and the trickling water from the Koi pond. It was warm but not uncomfortable, so I kicked off my shoes, socks, and pants, throwing them in a heap on the deck relaxing comfortably in my underwear.

 

The garden lights glowed against the dark foliage under the clear night sky dotted with twinkling stars. The shadows caused by the moonlight added to the serenity. It was calm and peaceful.

 

I took another long drink of water and wondered what it would be like to have Dave screw me. I was of one mind, that being that I loved him. What intrigued me, though, was the idea of me fucking Dave. From the first time I saw him at the marina, I wanted to put my hard dick on him; and now, I wanted to put it in him! How were we going to work it out? I wasn't sure, but one thing was clear; I was going to be with him. I was ready to give in to whatever he wanted. I loved him and the idea of being intimate with him. If Dave wanted to screw me, then I would go along with it. I remembered Mike saying he was going to send some links on the subject, so I reminded myself to check email.

 

As I lay under the evening sky listening to the waterfall, I thought about being with Dave. I wanted to feel the soft hairs on his chest and in his crotch around his hard-on. I wanted all that was Dave, any way I could have him. He could screw me if he wanted; I would give myself to him willingly.

 

I spread my legs and pushed a finger against my hole as if it were Dave's hard dick poking me. I tried to imagine the sensation, not knowing for sure what it was like. I got hard, and jerked off with my legs spread wide pretending Dave was on top of, and inside me. I imagined his handsome face and body humping away; it was wonderful. After I came, I pulled my finger out of my ass, lying there in a state of bliss, and eventually fell asleep.

 

As the sun began to brighten the horizon, I opened my eyes from the noise the magpies and thrushes made in the trees. The scene was embarrassing, so I gathered my clothes and made my way upstairs climbing into bed and went back to sleep.

 

A couple hours later, I awoke to my cell phone ringing. It was Dave on the caller ID.

 

"Hi, Dave," I said, half asleep, easing myself back down on the pillow.

 

"Val?"

 

"Who else?"

 

"Were you sleeping?"

 

"Yeah," I said, still groggy. "What's up?"

 

"I asked Mom, and she said I could go to lunch with you guys. I didn't mention the Quarter, though; I didn't want to piss her off again. She was pleased at the job I did in the garage and yard. She said I was free to go; I'm ungrounded."

 

"That's great. Can you come over now?"

 

"I'll be there in a few minutes. Bye."

 

He hung up just like that. I had to laugh. He wanted to come over as much as I wanted to see him. My day off was shaping up to be perfect! It was time to get up and give Mike and Steve the good news.

 

In the kitchen, I poured a coffee for myself, then checked the backyard through the window. They were in the hot tub, not screwing this time, so I decided to go out and join them. As I crossed the deck, I grabbed a lawn chair and carried it to the edge of the water. It was an in-ground spa with a chiseled stone border and sparkling blue water. It was quiet, too; the only noise being the effervescing water. The shed for the pump and heater were behind the guesthouse.

 

"Mornin', guys," I said, sitting down.

 

"Good morning," they responded, a little out-of-sync.

 

"Dave's coming over; his mother commuted his sentence to time served."

 

"That's great," Steve said. "Is he going to the Quarter with you guys?"

 

"I was going to ask you about that. The Quarter is off limits for him, too. He has permission to go to lunch with us, but he was afraid to ask about the Quarter. Do you think we should take him along and not say anything to his mother?"

 

Mike didn't hesitate, "TILT," he said loudly.

 

Steve and I chuckled at his response, I wasn't surprised, either. My phone started ringing, so I pulled it out of my pocket. The call was from the hotel Mom was staying at on Canal Street.

 

"Good morning, Mom," I said cheerfully. "Did you sleep well?"

 

She said she did, then advised me to be ready to go at eleven. I asked her if Dave could come and she agreed. I explained the situation, since Mike and Steve were listening. She said she would call his mother when she got here. That was all I could ask for, then hope for the best, so we said goodbye.

 

"Does Dave's mother know of your living arrangements?" Steve wanted to know.

 

"I'm not sure. We can ask him when he gets here. I'm going to put a note on the door, saying we're in the backyard. I'll be right back."

 

I was writing the note in the kitchen when the doorbell rang. I let 'my man Dave' in, and was instantly smothered with kisses and hugs. I was laughing and trying to kiss him at the same time, loving every bit of it. When he finished, he pulled back and looked me in the eyes saying, "You look beautiful this morning." He lowered his voice, and said, "I love you," and then he started nibbling at my neck.

 

That was too much for me. I couldn't stand it so I pulled him close and squeezed as I whispered in his ear, "I love you, too, handsome. C'mon, follow me."

 

I led him by the hand to my room knowing we didn't have a lot of time before Mike or Steve started getting suspicious. I closed the door and pulled his shorts down around his ankles. I began to suck his dick, which very nearly made a boing sound it stood up so fast. I sucked and bobbed on his hardness, loving the feel of his pubes in my face. He had a lot of dark hair around his dick, and the feel of it made me want more of him. The path of hair to his navel was so hot to look at, it made me work harder and faster with my mouth.

 

A couple short minutes and Dave started to explode, arching his back and shoving his hard dick as far into my throat as he could. I fought the gag reflex successfully when he did that with my face buried in his crotch. I felt his dick pulsing juice on the back of my throat. He was grunting and groaning as he came. I took it all, wanting to keep his hardness in my mouth for hours if I could.

 

As he regained control of himself, he pulled me up by the arms and we kissed. When we were satisfied with the moment, he leaned back and said, "Dude, that was awesome; I love you so much;" then he kissed me again and squeezed the shit out of me.

 

He pulled his shorts up, and I couldn't resist the urge to slip my hand under his T-shirt and feel the soft hairs on his Pecs. That was a major turn on for me; I shuddered at the sensation. Actually, there wasn't anything about him that didn't turn me on; just some things more than others; I guess I was lucky in that regard.

 

"C'mon; let's go outside before Mike comes looking for us."

 

"What about you? Don't you want me to do you?"

 

"For sure, but we have to get out there, or Mike's gonna come looking for us. I guarantee it."

 

I headed for the door and he caught me as I pulled the door open, wrapping his arms around me from behind kissing my neck while his hands moved over my chest and stomach.

 

Steve was taking the last step up to the second floor and looked at us saying, "There you are. Hi, Dave, how are you?"

 

"Good, Steve, it's nice to have my freedom back. Did you miss me?" He asked, smiling coyly.

 

"Most definitely; you'll never know," Steve said, sarcastically rolling his eyes. "I know someone who did, though."

 

"C'mon, Dave; you want a coffee?"

 

Steve was blocking the way to the stairs with his arm stretched out, hand on the wall and said, "Listen, guys. When you're alone in the bedroom leave the door open. Okay?"

 

"Geez, Steve, they have less rules in the big house," I said, half teasing and half trying to register a mild protest.

 

"Do we understand each other?" he persisted.

 

Good Lord, he's been spending way too much time with Mike. He's picking up his bad habits, and they were bad from my point of view.

 

"We do, Steve," I relented.

 

Steve continued to their bedroom, and we joined Mike at the spa with a fresh cup of coffee. Dave placed a lawn chair next to mine, we watched super-stud, I mean super-cop, relaxing. Dave gave Mike a quick wave of his hand as he sat down, and Mike nodded, asking him if he was AWOL or good to go. He knew the answer, but it was a good lead-in to a conversation, a-la Mike.

 

"I'm on the lam, Mike. Keep it under your hat, okay?" Dave was smiling and jovial as he spoke. It was infectious.

 

Then he took my hand intertwining his fingers with mine. I looked at him with that big ol' Dave grin, white teeth and all. Whew, it made me weak. Mike knew it was horseshit, but couldn't resist the taunt.

 

"Hmmm," he said thoughtfully. "Is there a bounty on your head? We're a little short this month."

 

"Yeah; it won't pay the bills, though; you get to do anything you want with Val." Then he kissed me on the cheek.

 

I couldn't resist a grin and a look at his crotch. Man, I wanted to see it bare again so bad. I wanted to run my fingers through the hair around his dick and on his chest. My man, Dave! God, he was hotter than Tabasco Sauce. Yeah, I said that once before, but no truer words were spoken. The dude had my heart and both heads; there was nothing I could do but enjoy it, and that I did, every moment of it.

 

Steve walked up and said, "Val, it's quarter to eleven. You're mother's going to be here in fifteen minutes."

 

"Okay, Steve."

 

I panicked and handed Dave the cell phone in case Mom called or arrived before I finished my routine. She could use it to call his mother when she got here. I gave Dave a quick peck on the lips, which didn't bother me at all considering Mike and Steve were present. That didn't quite do the trick so I straddled his lap and sat with my arms around his neck, giving him a big ol' sloppy kiss on the mouth.

 

"Get your butt in gear," Mike said. I could tell he wasn't angry by the lilt in his inflection.

 

I stood up after the kiss, saying, "Okay, sarge," then took off for the house.

 

I jerked off in the shower, I had to do it. The image of Dave's crotch and his hard dick, was so fresh in my mind, that I couldn't picture anything else. I was all boned up with the recollection of me sucking him off. I tried to put the bar of soap part way in my ass as I masturbated. It was slippery enough to go in some. I was trying to imagine Dave entering me. I thought it was on the perverted side, but I couldn't help myself. I was trying to get used to the idea. And the idea wasn't all that farfetched; I sort of liked the thought of Dave screwing me. His hard dick sticking straight and rigid inside me. Yeah, it was a good thought, stimulating even! Enough that I pumped my load on the shower wall with my finger up my ass!

 

I finished up as fast as I could. As I went through the motions, I wondered if I was a little bit perverted, the way I seemed to think about sex all the time. I didn't think famous achievers like Einstein or Michael Faraday were consumed with the idea of sex. They couldn't think of all the shit they did if they dwelled on it. I had good grades, though; maybe there was hope for me.

 

I bounded down the stairs on my way outside. I was excited about spending the day with the two people I cared for most; Mom and Dave, no surprise there. It was going to be a little strange hanging out with Mom, her knowing about our relationship and all. Oh, well, we'll have to watch the touching and feeling. Definitely no kissing in front of her; that would be too weird.

 

"Hi, Mom," I said as I approached the group.

 

She sat in a lawn chair at the spa looking as good as she ever had. I bent over and kissed my mother's cheek, "Hi, beautiful; it's good to see you."

 

"Hi, honey," she said affectionately.

 

That didn't bother me at all. I loved the sound of it, missed it even. I put my arm around her, smiling and massaging her shoulder; it was so good to be with her. God, I loved her so much, and she looked so darn good. I wasn't into breasts, at least not the size of mom's, but she really did look great; feminine and womanly and her back side was in good form, too. Not wide, like so many southern women. I guessed it was because she worked and didn't sit around. Whatever the reason, she was a shapely looker, and Bill was a lucky guy.

 

Mom was at ease as she talked with Mike and Steve. They didn't discuss anything that hadn't already been addressed. I was feeling nostalgic as I stood touching her and listening to them talk. I wanted to go home with Mom to our shack. I guess I was missing her, that's all it could be. I knew it was the wrong place for me, a place that was miserable, bad enough to run away from.

 

Dave touched me so I looked at him. He said he was going with us, though his mother wasn't aware we were going to the Quarter. He said that Mom told her we were going to be tourists for the day, so she agreed. I looked at Mike, and he gave me a nod. I was so thankful he approved, I even thought of doing things to him for payment. Then I wondered if I'd ever get over thinking about guys and dicks. Oh, well, time would tell. In the meantime, I was safe—as long as no one could read my mind, hehe.

 

Mom said we had to leave. We were going to pick up Bill at his house on Elysian Fields, a good distance away near Lake Ponchartrain. Mom and Dave rose and I waited for them to say their goodbyes. I was feeling so chipper I wanted to kiss Mike and Steve goodbye, but I thought better of it. I kept my arm around my mother as we walked to the street.

 

Mom drove us to Bill's house in her new car. I had never experienced that new car smell before and decided I liked it. We pulled up in the circular driveway, sounding the horn as the car came to a stop. Dave and I were sitting in the back, waiting for Bill to come out and get in next to Mom. I was paying close attention. My mom had a new boyfriend, and I wanted him to be worthy of her. I was skeptical, too. He had better measure up. She deserves nothing but the best!

 

Bill came out of the house and sat in the passenger seat next to Mom. He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. Whoa, what the hell was that? It seemed kind of forward or bold with Dave and me sitting there. He took it for granted that it would be okay with Mom, too, although she didn't seem to mind. But mind or not, he kissed my mother! That took some kind of gall, the audacious bastard.

 

Mom introduced us, first Dave then me. Bill made a special effort to be friendly and smile at me, saying how nice it was to finally meet me, how much he'd heard about me, blah, blah, blah. I wasn't impressed. Just because he had a fancy house with a circular drive didn't give him the right to kiss my mother. As an adult, you would think he would be aware of proper etiquette and exercise a little more propriety, the nerve of him.

 

We chatted on our way to the Quarter, Bill giving mom directions as she drove. Dave and I copped a feel every now and then. He even leaned into my ear, saying he wanted to fuck me. I smiled at him. I was ready for it, eager in fact. With everything that was happening, though, it was a bit much to dwell on at the moment.

 

Bill seemed nice enough and made easy conversation. He had a hint of grey at his sideburns. It gave him a distinguished look, contrasting with his brunette hair. I guessed Bill at about six foot two by comparison to Dave and me. Dave was a tad taller than I at five-eleven. Bill had a small paunch at his tummy, which wasn't unusual for someone his age, probably fortyish, I guessed. That would make him a few years older than Mom.

 

We had a grand time walking around the Quarter, checking out different galleries and shops. I bought a numbered print of the official Mardi Gras poster for next year. Dave helped me select the mat and frame before I paid. I would have to get Mike or Steve to pick it up, since the Quarter was out of bounds for both of us.

 

Bill was a good guide, pointing out places of interest, explaining their significance and steering us away from the tourist traps. He was well informed and, I guessed, a history buff. The information he imparted, along with his manner of delivery, kept us all interested, asking questions and contemplating the stories behind them.

 

When I asked, Bill said his family's presence in Louisiana dated back to Jean Lafitte and the pirates of New Orleans; then he chuckled.

 

"That's BS isn't it Bill?" Dave said. He gave me a confident smile, which I returned as we followed behind them.

 

"Absolutely not," he insisted. "My great, great grandfather, Lucien Cormier, was wanted by the Feds, until the day he died, for smuggling; well that's what the Feds called it. Actually, they plundered and pillaged goods under false pretense of the French crown in St. Dominique, which is present day Haiti, and sold their bounty here."

 

His recount was a little too cozy, so I said, "What's your last name Bill?"

 

"Cormier."

 

Stupid me for asking; what did I expect him to say? Come to think of it, there could have been a surname change along the way resulting from marriage. Oh well, round one goes to Bill! I had to laugh at myself.

 

"Hey," I said. "Mom's maiden name is Poirier. Her family has been here for ages."

 

"That's an old Acadian name," Bill said. "I bet your mother has relatives living in Canada somewhere, maybe the Gaspé or the Maritime Provinces … something like that. I'd bet on it."

 

Dave piped up saying, "My last name's Guidry. Our family has been here for several generations, too."

 

Bill agreed that it was an old Cajun name as well, asking Dave if he knew some of the Guidry's he did. Dave didn't, but he said his father knew their family history well. It was obvious Dave was proud of his heritage; it made me smile and tickled to be with him.

 

We walked around the Quarter for almost three hours without eating, buying the occasional beverage as we trekked about. At one point, Dave and I looked inside a bar with open doors to see several guys kissing and displaying affection. It didn't take a genius to figure out it was a gay bar. We looked at each other with intrigue. Dave had a devilish grin on his face making me smile, too. We were tired from the heat and humidity not to mention walking so Bill suggested we go eat and we all jumped on the idea.

 

We found Mom's car on Esplanade and drove toward Lake Ponchartrain. It was a straight shot out to the Lake. We couldn't get there fast enough, as far as Dave and I were concerned. We were so starved, we were ready to order two meals each. Dave said he hated getting that hungry, because he felt like going to sleep after he ate. Then I wondered if he would take a nap at the house with me when Mom dropped us off. Hell, it didn't cost anything to dream.

 

The meal was delicious and there was plenty to eat. Dave and I opted for the buffet, because it was stacked with tons of food. We piled two plates high, because they were in the process of dismantling it for dinner. It was our good fortune that they were slow, because we both went back to fill another plate. Christ, if we moved that slow at work we would all be fired, but this worked out good; we were both glad for the slow pace.

 

Dave and I talked about Bill, when he went to the bathroom. We both decided aloud that we liked Bill, and we did that for Mom's sake. I wanted her to know that Bill was okay in my book; he was down to earth and sincere—a good guy. He would make an acceptable companion for Mom. I didn't want to think about lover; that was beyond any stretch of my imagination. After all, that's my mother we're talking about.

 

I offered to chip in on the tab, which made Bill smile briefly, then turn serious saying, "Thanks for the gesture, but you can't pay here unless you're a member."

 

Having said that, he signed the tab and set it aside.

 

I was curious how the waiters were compensated, so I asked, "How do they figure the tips at a private club?"

 

"It's an automatic twenty percent and that's okay with me. I have to spend so much a month in the bar or restaurant or get billed for the difference."

 

That was totally alien to me; paying for things you didn't get. Is the guy nuts? I couldn't stand it anymore; I had to know, so I said, "What do you do for a living, Bill?"

 

"Val!" Mom said curtly. "That's not a polite question."

 

I rolled my eyes. Polite was one thing, I wanted to know more about the guy. I wanted the facts. I wanted to know how he made things work for himself, what drove him, and made him get up in the morning.

 

"Is that question out of line, Bill?" I asked politely.

 

He didn't hesitate. "Not at all, I'm an oil field engineer. I fly out to the offshore rigs and inspect them to make sure things are working as intended, as they were designed. I resolve technical problems that arise."

 

Dave elbowed me as if to say 'back off', but fuck him. Bill was after my mother, and I wanted to know about him and his background. I didn't care about the money he seemed to have. I didn't want Mom to be taken advantage of, either.

 

"Bill … have you ever been married?"

 

"Val, that's rather personal; you shouldn't be asking things like that. What's come over you?" Mom scolded.

 

"It's okay, Katy, I don't mind," Bill said coolly. "I was married in my second year of college. It didn't work out, and we divorced a year after I graduated. She remarried later and moved to Houston with her husband. I understand they have three children now; I'm happy for her."

 

That sounded reasonable enough. I also wanted to know how old he was. In other words, was he robbing the cradle? I decided against asking. I had enough to go on for the time being. Besides, he seemed like an okay dude, and Mom liked him, I suppose I did, too. There wasn't anything I could do about it, anyway. If he made her happy, then that was worth something, and she needed someone to look out for her, too. Lord knows, I couldn't do it. I decided to like him until there was a reason not to, mostly for Mom's sake.

 

We thanked Bill for lunch and an interesting afternoon. Dave told him how much he appreciated hearing his commentary as we toured the Quarter. He said he learned more about the history of New Orleans today, than he had known in all the years he lived here.

 

 

Then he said he had to check in at home, and asked if I wanted to come over. I didn't have to think twice about that, so Mom dropped us off at Dave's house. I hugged her firmly through the driver's window and kissed her cheek, telling her that I loved her. I waved goodbye to Bill, thanking him again for a good time and said I hoped we could do it again soon.

 

Dave and I watched them drive off. It was kind of sad watching Mom leave with her new boyfriend. I wondered how things would turn out between them and where I would fit into the picture if they had a future.

 

"I really like him," Dave said. "He's pretty cool and didn't say one word about us. Do you think he knows?"

 

"I'm sure of it. Mom said he was a big support to her when I left. I'm positive she told him everything."

 

"He seems pretty cool with it."

 

"He better be if he wants to be with Mom. He doesn't have a choice."

 

We both chuckled at the truth of the matter. Mom definitely wouldn't tolerate anyone saying bad or mean things about me; that's for sure.

 

Dave said, "C'mon, let's go inside."

 

I was a little nervous, going in Dave's house. I had only been there once before, and I didn't know his parents all that well. I still hadn't met his sister, not that I wanted to. She's the one who outed Dave to his mother, and that spelled bitch in capital letters from where I was standing.

 

His mother heard the back door slam and yelled, "DAVE?"

 

"YEAH, IT'S ME AND VAL."

 

I held my breath to see what her reaction would be to my presence. She met us in the kitchen as we came in from the mudroom after removing our shoes. I liked that idea, especially now that housekeeping at Steve and Mike's was my responsibility.

 

"Hi, Mrs. Guidry."

 

"Hello, how are you?"

 

"Fine, thanks, and you?"

 

"Good. Greg came by and called several times looking for you, Dave. Are you avoiding him?"

 

"No, I'll call him. Mom, we had a great time and learned a lot about the history of New Orleans from Bill. He's Mrs. Milner's boyfriend, then he took us to lunch at the yacht club. We had a good time."

 

"That's nice," she said. "When are you going home, Val? Is your mother going to pick you up here?"

 

"I am home. I live here now."

 

She turned to look at me with a raunchy look on her face and the 'B' word came to mind again. I had to be cautious not to say anything disrespectful. She's Dave's mother, and I didn't want to give her any reason to impose further sanctions on Dave.

 

His mother peppered me with questions that eventually led me to disclose that I was living with a guardian here in New Orleans. I was smart enough not to let on that my guardian was actually two gay guys. That was all the information I gave her. When she wouldn't ease up, I respectfully told her that if she needed to know more, she should feel free to call Mike Harris, my attorney and legal guardian.

 

I smiled inwardly at my presence of mind and the way I phrased my response. Sometimes being too smart for your own good, as Mike put it; can work in your favor. Dave was grinning behind his mother. There was no way I could resist joining him, so I did. She turned around to see Dave smiling, which apparently grated her, because she shook her head and left the room, thank God!

 

"C'mon up to my room. I'll call Greg and see if he wants to come over. I want him to meet you."

 

"Do you think that's a good idea, considering he knows the story?"

 

Dave waved his hand saying, "He'll be fine," and started for the back of the house.

 

I followed him. When we reached the stairs, I was surprised, so I said, "Geez, I didn't know you had two stairways in the house."

 

"The back stairs were the only ones the servants were allowed to use at the time the house was built."

 

"Oh," I said.

 

Then I thought about Steve and Mike's house. Their place had a separate residence for servants. The original owners must have had more money or maybe they were more bigoted; either way it didn't matter. The point being that discrimination was the rule at the time.

 

Dave led us to his room and flopped down on his bed. I wasn't comfortable in his house, so I sat at his desk rather than be tempted to fool around with him on the bed. I eyed his computer and asked, "How much did your computer cost? I want to get one for my room."

 

"I think it was around eight hundred not including the printer."

 

Damn, that was a lot of money but I was pretty sure I was going to get one. I had more than that at home to deposit in the bank. Still, it was a hell of a lot of money.

 

Dave called his best friend, Greg. He only lived two blocks away. When they hung up, Dave said he was coming over. Yikes! I have to meet his best friend. I wanted to go home and be with Mike and Steve. I was sick and tired of new situations and people I didn't know. I planned to leave shortly after Greg got there. As far as I knew, Dave hadn't spent any time with him recently, and that would give them some time together.

 

The next thing that happened, we heard a door opening to the hallway. A moment later, and Dave's sister was standing at his door,

 

"Hey, homo, is this your new boyfriend? What happened to the old one?"

 

We turned to regard the heifer in the doorway. She said it with a condescending inflection and an ugly smirk. She was a succinct smart ass-bitch. She was older, too. What a cunt! A fucking cunt's cunt; that's what she was. And she was fat, too, eew. She probably stunk if you got close enough. How could she have the same parents as Dave? Maybe she was mixed up with Dave's real sister at the hospital when she was born. It was apparent he had all the good genes when they were passed out.

 

"At least I have one. What do you want?" Dave asked, a little more than annoyed. "And don't stand in one place too long, the floor can't take it."

 

We both burst out laughing. She was standing there with her hands on both hips. I was thinking about the size of her drumsticks, making me laugh harder. When we settled down, she said, "So you're admitting you're a faggot then?"

 

Dave ignored her question saying, "Are you on your way to the kitchen?" and we both lost it again.

 

"Very funny, fag boy," she said, flipping Dave the bird as she left.

 

I wanted to ask Dave 'what was that', but I decided to tone it down some; "I guess that was your sister."

 

"Yeah, that was her, Daphne. If you really want to piss her off, call her cupcake. She hates that."

 

We both chuckled.

 

"Why is she so bitchy? I mean … big girls are supposed to be nice, so people will like them. She doesn't seem to care."

 

"I think she's a dike but I wouldn't swear to it."

 

"Yeah," I said. "A real diesel dike."

 

That sent us into another round of laughs as we collapsed on Dave's bed. There was a knock at the back door, so Dave opened the window, telling Greg to come on up to his room. When Greg came in, he went over to Dave and held his fist up. "Hey dude, where ya been?"

 

Dave bumped fists with him, which I thought was kind of dumb, but I guess it was their way. Dave introduced me to Greg and he raised his fist again, so I bumped fists with him, feeling stupid as I did.

 

"Nice to meet ya, dude," Greg said, eyeing me up and down.

 

"Same here," I replied.

 

While Dave and Greg talked, I couldn't help but notice how sexy Greg was. He had strawberry blond hair and fair, lightly tanned skin. His chest, arms, and legs had a natural musculature about them, with round features including his butt. I couldn't resist checking that out, it was so pert and cute.

 

He was a full head taller than Dave and I, which made him seem older, although we were the same age. When I finished my survey, I decided he was very blowable, laughing silently. God I have to stop thinking about sex all the time. Maybe once Dave fucks me it'll be out of my system. Who knows? Time will tell.

 

Their conversation tapered off, so Greg asked Dave, "So are you two guys together or whatever?" Then he looked at me.

 

I wasn't sure what to say, so I sat there, mute, at Dave's desk with my face heating up.

 

Dave got up and closed the door saying, "Yeah, we are;" then he smiled at me.

 

I never could resist that smile from the first time I saw him, so I had to grin, too, as my face grew warmer.

 

Greg was quiet for a minute, looking back and forth between us, trying to reconcile things in his mind. It was tense for a few moments, and then he said, "Hey, it's cool with me. It's going to take some getting used to, though. I never knew any gay guys before."

 

"You've known me most of your life," Dave reminded him.

 

"Yeah, but this is different. I mean ... uhhh … I don't know what I mean. I have to think about it some more. I just met Val, and I can handle that; I haven't known him long. But you, Dave, to find out now, after knowing you so long, it's just weird, that's all. You think you know someone all your life, then find out you really don't know them. See what I mean?"

 

"Yeah, I guess I do," Dave said. "But, hell, I wasn't sure myself until I met Val. Then … when I got home from vacation, I was afraid to tell you. I had to wait until I thought the time was right."

 

"So … do you guys like kiss … and shit like that?" Greg asked, chuckling aloud and then turning red.

 

Dave looked at me and rolled his eyes, smiling, "What do you think?" Then he got up, walking in my direction, and kissed me! Right in front of Greg, he kissed me! God! I wanted to crawl under the bed, it was so embarrassing.

 

Dave turned around to face Greg, saying, "You ought to try it. It's great."

 

Then he flopped down on the bed propping his head up with one hand, staring at Greg. Greg was speechless as he faltered shifting his weight from one foot to the other. You didn't have to be a mind-reader to know he was nervous.

 

"Go ahead, Greg, kiss Val. You might like it." Then he stretched that big ol' grin across his face, because he knew neither one of us would do it.

 

"I have to get going," I said as I rose to my feet. "This is getting too weird. I'll call you later, Dave."

 

I started walking toward the door. Dave jumped up, stopping me in my tracks. He hugged me; then we kissed. Greg's presence made it awkward for a moment; then it seemed to pass. Our actions were an extension of our feelings for each other. It seemed as natural as walking and talking; I was surprised. I also liked the idea of someone our own age knowing how we felt about each other. Greg was a witness to our affection. I hoped he understood what was involved.

 

I had an idea that we should all go out for dinner. I had plenty of money at the house and thought it would be fun for the three of us to go by ourselves. It was Sunday, my day off, and I didn't have to work; so why not?

 

It would also give me the chance to get to know Greg better. I didn't want to come between Dave and Greg, though. That would be dumb on my part. I did, however, want to get to know him better since he was Dave's best friend, and he seemed okay with the gay thing.

 

"Hey, do you guys want to go out for dinner? It's my treat."

 

"That would be great," Greg said. "My parents took my two sisters to visit Granny. They won't be back until later tonight."

 

"That's sounds good, Val, but I don't want you paying for all of us," Dave said. He was halfheartedly protesting.

 

I knew he felt bad, not having any money of his own, so I said, "It's no big deal. We aren't going to a fancy place. I would like to go somewhere that serves crawdads and jambalaya."

 

"I don't want jambalaya. It's too hot for that."

 

"Well, get whatever you want, but we're going; okay?"

 

"I have to check with Mom," Dave said.

 

"You check with her, and I'll call Mike and Steve."

 

Greg wanted to know who Mike and Steve were, so I asked him to wait a minute until I finished the call.

 

Steve answered and I filled him in on the afternoon's events, then asked him if I could go to dinner with Dave and Greg. He thought about it for a minute and asked when I was coming home. I told him, "Now … to clean up before going, or I was going to stay home if I couldn't go." He said it was okay to go, but he wanted to meet 'this Greg' before I started running around with a bunch of people they didn't know.

 

We hung up and I told Greg I was good to go, giving him the conditions. I gave him a quick dissertation of my home situation, and he said he was meeting more gay people today than he had in his life. We both chuckled at his observation as we waited for Dave.

 

Dave returned with his father, causing both of us to straighten up.

 

"Where are you boys going for dinner?" He was looking at me.

 

Why, I don't know, but he was staring me down, and I felt the need to respond.

 

"We haven't decided," I said timidly. "I was hoping we could go somewhere that served crawdads and jambalaya," and that was the truth as far as I had thought it through.

 

"What are you using for money?"

 

Well that was stupid. What does anyone use for money? And he's a surgeon on top of that; go figure! I knew this wasn't the time to be a smart-ass, but cut me some slack. It was definitely a dumb question.

 

"I was going to treat with the money I earned at work. Remember, I'm a waiter? Today is my day off, so we thought it would be fun to go out for dinner. You know … something different … just the three of us."

 

"Oh, sorry; I forgot you work for your money, unlike a couple guys who will remain unnamed," he said, then turned to look at his son and Greg.

 

Dave was standing there with a goofy look on his face, unable to respond. If it weren't for his father making the observation, I was sure he would have had something to say. It made me giggle to see the ambivalence of his thoughts and actions.

 

Greg broke the silence after a few moments. "Can Dave go to dinner with us, Mr. Guidry?"

 

He turned to Greg, "He can go … as long as he's home by ten."

 

Greg thanked Dave's father as he left the room. Dave took a shower while Greg went home to clean up and change. I reclined on Dave's bed with my hands behind my head waiting for Dave. A few minutes later, and I was sawing logs.

 

Dave woke me up when he came back. I was wishing I hadn't opened my big mouth about going to dinner. I was tired and more than happy to sit home and relax. Maybe a quick shower would snap me out of it.

 

We made our way to Greg's house. As we walked up the driveway, he came around from the back of the house.

 

The three of us walked the block to the streetcar line. On the streetcar, I noticed Greg playing a game on his cell phone so I handed him my phone asking him to program his number into it. Then he entered my number on his.

 

At Mike and Steve's, we let ourselves in the gate and went around to the back door. The 'dads' were in the spa, so we walked over to introduce Greg.

 

"You guys are going to get water-logged with all the time you spend in that thing," I said. "Greg, this is Steve and his other half Mike," I said, indicating who was who.

 

They shook hands politely, exchanging pleasantries. When they finished, I excused myself, saying I was going to clean up and be back shortly. I spoke softly to Dave before I left, "Ask them to suggest some restaurants in the area that aren't too fancy," then I gave him a peck on the cheek and left.

 

He turned around and yelled at me, "DO YOU WANT CRAWDADS?"

 

"I DON'T CARE. IT'S NO BIG DEAL; WHATEVER; YOU DECIDE."

 

As it turned out, we went to a small place in the neighborhood down Magazine Street that Mike and Steve suggested. They said it was noted locally for having good food at reasonable prices with good air-conditioning. The fact that it was gay owned and within walking distance was enough to sway Dave and me. Steve said the owner's were friends of theirs.

 

We enjoyed our time together and I began to like Greg; he was easy going with a good sense of humor, much like Dave, but more animated. The more we talked the more comfortable we grew in each other's company. I was glad, because I didn't want to force Dave to decide between his best friend and me if we didn't hit it off.

 

Greg was a sports nut, playing on his school's baseball team. After checking him out in Dave's bedroom, I could see why he might be good. He had the physique of an athlete and the good fortune to be attractive as well. He didn't turn me on like Dave, but he was very easy on the eyes. I guess some people have all the luck.

 

I thought I would give them time alone, so I said, "I'll be right back. I'm going to the bathroom."

 

I took more time than necessary so they could talk. When I finished in the bathroom, I detoured toward the kitchen. Our waiter came into the dining room and seeing me, asked, "Is everything okay?"

 

"Yeah, great. Are you one of the owners?"

 

He eyed me suspiciously, then said, "Yes, I am. Is something wrong?"

 

"No," I said. "I live with Steve Brown and Mike Harris and they suggested we come here to eat. We're glad we did. We like the place. You can count on us coming back."

 

"My name is Jerry," he said extending his hand.

 

"I'm Val. Nice to meet you."

 

I shook his hand and he invited me into the kitchen to meet his partner, Mark. We chatted for a few minutes about the restaurant, and I told them where I worked. They were impressed, cautioning me about Roger Blackwell, the manager. They said he didn't have the best reputation, so be careful.

 

I thanked them, then excused myself, saying I was being rude and had to get back to my friends.

 

As I approached our table, Greg saw me and stopped talking. I pretended not to notice; although it bothered me. I was sure Dave would fill me in when we were alone.

 

"Are you guys ready to go?" I asked.

 

"I guess so," was Greg's reply, sounding down in the dumps for some reason.

 

I turned the tab over to see the damage, then left the cash to cover it along with a generous tip. As we left, I waved goodbye to Jerry. He smiled and waved back.

 

There was very little conversation as we walked back to Mike and Steve's place. I couldn't help but think I was in the way or maybe the cause of some of it. I felt awkward and unsure of what to say, so I kept my lips zipped. I made a couple attempts at idle talk about the meal and the pleasant evening, but it went nowhere.

 

When the house was near, I asked, "Are you guys going home?" I wanted to give them an out to spend time together if they wanted it.

 

"No," Dave said. "We're coming in. We have something to discuss."

 

That was encouraging; at least I wasn't being omitted, not yet, anyway. But what could it be? I didn't much care; I was tired as hell and wanted to hit the sack early. I resolved to hang in there for Dave and Greg, whatever the problem was.

 

We went in the back door, kicked our shoes off, and Dave said, "Can we go to your room?"

 

"Yeah; you guys go ahead. I'm gonna let Mike and Steve know we're back."

 

They were watching TV in the library, arm in arm on the sofa. Mike was against the armrest on his side so I sat next to Steve and leaned into him taking his hand and intertwining our fingers.

 

"Are you okay, Val?" Steve asked.

 

"Yeah; there's some shit going on between Dave and Greg. They're best friends, in case they didn't tell you. I feel like a fifth wheel right now, and I'm tired. It's been a long day."

 

"Watch your language, Sport," Mike said.

 

"Sorry, Mike. The restaurant was great. I met Jerry and Mark; they seem real nice. And the food was excellent! My crawdads were meaty and juicy, just the way I like 'em. I would've put Dave on them instead of Tabasco Sauce, if Greg wasn't there."

 

They both laughed, then Mike said, "What's wrong?"

 

"There seems to be a problem between Dave and Greg. They're best friends, but I can't help thinking it's because of me. I asked them if they wanted to go home, and they said 'no.' They're upstairs now, talking."

 

I snuggled closer to Steve lifting his arm over my shoulder. It felt good and comforting then I thought about his crotch and envisioned what I saw on the pier in Buras when I looked up his shorts. Why can't I stop thinking about sex?

 

"What's wrong, Val? Is something bothering you?" Steve wanted to know.

 

"No, I'm fine; just tired. I'm going upstairs to see what's going on."

 

I kissed Steve on the cheek, stood up and left.

 

The door to my room was closed so I knocked to announce myself.

 

"Come in," Dave said.

 

I went in to find them sitting on the bed; Greg's eyes were red. It was obvious he was upset. I sat at the desk, waiting for some direction from Dave. He had his arm around Greg comforting him. 'Shit, now what?'

 

"Do you guys want me to go back downstairs for a while?"

 

"No," Dave said. "Can Mike and Steve come up here?"

 

"I'm sure they can, or … we can go down there. What's going on?"

 

Dave said, "Greg has to talk to them. He has a problem." Dave hesitated, squeezed Greg with his arm, and said, "Greg needs to talk to them. Is that okay?"

 

"Of course," I said. "Greg is this about us being gay?"

 

Dave looked at me, nodding his head. Now I was confused and tired. It had been a long day, so I said, "I'll go downstairs and send them up."

 

In the library, I told Mike and Steve they were needed upstairs. I couldn't answer why, when they asked; all I could do was tell them what I knew. After they left, I lay on the sofa, wondering if they were going to get tired of me and all the crap I brought into their lives. Surely, there was a point where they would become fed up and pull the plug in search of some semblance of order.

 

I had no idea how long I had been asleep when Mike shook my shoulder. I opened my eyes slowly to see him bent over, his face in front of mine. As I slowly rose, he said, "C'mon, Sport, time for bed."

 

"Where's Dave and Greg?"

 

"They went home a while ago. Dave kissed you goodnight on the forehead; he didn't want to wake you."

 

I wanted to ask him what happened up in my room, but I was too tired. All I could think about was getting into bed and passing out for the night.

 

The next morning I was awake before Mike and Steve, so I made coffee and waited for them to get up. Mike was the first to come down.

 

"Good morning," he said on his way to the coffee pot. "Did you sleep well?"

 

"Yeah; I think I passed out as soon as I hit the pillow. How 'bout you?"

 

He sat down across the table and blew over his coffee to cool it down, then took a sip. As he set his cup down, he cleared his throat, "There's a bit of a problem."

 

All I could think of was him getting sick and tired of the grief I caused him. When was he going to call it quits and boot me out?

 

"What is it, Mike?" I really didn't want to know, but Mike isn't the kind of guy you ignore and get away with it.

 

"It's Greg. Last night he said he loved Dave like a brother and felt sorry for him because he was gay." He paused blowing over his coffee again then took another sip. Then he continued. "Steve and I tried to explain that if he was a true friend, he shouldn't feel pity—he should be supportive. I think Greg has bigger issues with the gay thing than he cares to admit. Personally, when I find someone that young and so opposed to gays, I think they have issues with their own sexuality."

 

"Really?" I said. "Do you think Greg is gay?"

 

"I didn't say that. It's not unusual to be confused at your age. Greg may have feelings along those lines, which doesn't preclude him being gay, or bisexual, for that matter. If he is, then he may not like the idea of being gay with all the social implications that come with it. On the other hand, it may be nothing more than a passing fancy, something to try in a daring or curious kind of way. It's not unheard of for boys your age to experiment."

 

"You're kidding," was all I could come up with.

 

I was suddenly overcome with panic as I imagined Greg wanting to be with Dave. What the hell is going on? Is this some kind of sick, gay, love triangle? Am I going to come out on the short end? My worst fear in the world seemed to be staring me in the face as the realization that I might not be with Dave began to take shape.

 

"Mike, I don't know what to say. I'm kind of worried, if you know what I mean."

 

The thought was scary and a very real possibility. What could I do? I stood up and turned in a circle facing Mike again when I stopped.

 

"Mike," I said … and couldn't find any more words, but I'm sure my eyes started to become glassy.

 

He got up and came around the table to hug me. I grabbed him and held on for dear life. His arms were strong and his body solid. As he held me tight, I rested my head on his chest while he rubbed my back.

 

"Mike, what am I going to do?"

 

"Everything is going to be fine. Nothing's changed between you and Dave, right?"

 

"I don't know. What if he decides he wants to be with Greg instead of me? They've known each other like their whole lives-type thing. And Greg's family has money, the same as Dave's. He's not poor and skinny like me. And he doesn't have to work, so they have time to be together..."

 

Mike cut me off, "Hey, Sport, slow down. You're getting way ahead of yourself." He pushed me back so we could look at each other. "Relax. People don't fall in and out of love overnight. Talk it over with Dave. I'm sure he feels the same about you today as he did yesterday. You're not skinny, either; you'll fill out when you stop growing. Besides, if he's going solely on looks, Greg doesn't stand a chance." He gave me a quick squeeze and released me.

 

"Now … get some breakfast in you. I have to get ready for work." Then he turned to go.

 

"Mike?" I said slowly with a vocal question mark.

 

"Yeah?"

 

"I'm sorry for all the aggravation I've caused you and Steve."

 

He smiled, and then said, "I expect to see the lawn cut and the house clean when I get home from work." Then without another word, he smacked me on the ass and smiled winking at me as he left the room.

 

It was his way of saying everything was okay. It made me feel a little better, but it didn't erase the fear and worry of the Greg scenario. I couldn't help but visualize them together with me standing idly by. It wasn't a pretty picture.

 

I toasted some bagels, leaving them on the counter for Steve and Mike, then went out to the garage to fire up the lawn mower. A while later, and the backyard was done. I couldn't stand it any longer. I’d been thinking about it the whole time so I went inside to call Dave.

 

I lay on my bed, looking at my phone, wondering if I should call. If I did, what would I say? Something like, 'Hi Dave, do you still love me'? That sounded dumb so I rolled over on my stomach with my face buried in the pillow. I spread my legs and imagined Dave on top, screwing me. I pushed my ass a little higher as if to offer it to him and started jerking off.

 

I never did call him. I finished the yard and housework, cleaned myself up and left for work. I decided not to stop at Dave's house, opting to go to the bank instead.

 

It was a slow night at work, being a Monday. I barely cleared eighty dollars. Rob was in a talkative mood, because of the slow pace, but I wasn't into it; my mind was elsewhere.

 

On the ride home, Rob got me to spill the beans, and he thought I was jumping to conclusions, too. I thought it was nice of him to say that, but it didn't ease my mind. I couldn’t get the fact out of my head that today was the first day since I've been here I hadn't talked to Dave. Needless to say, it was unsettling.

 

When I got to my room, I stripped down to my underwear. I noticed Mike and Steve left their door open, so I decided to rap lightly to see if they were awake. The sound was nearly inaudible; they would have to be awake to hear it. They must have been sleeping because there was no sign of movement so I went back to my room and lay on the bed in the dim light.

 

I thought about getting a beer from the fridge, then thought better of it. I couldn't get the idea of Dave and Greg being together out of my mind. It was driving me crazy. I didn't know what to do. It seemed like forever, but eventually I fell asleep.

 

The next morning, Mike and Steve were busy going through their routine when I made my way to the kitchen. I poured a coffee, then sat at the table feeling lonely and alone. I didn't talk to Dave once yesterday, and he didn't call. That wasn't good.

 

Was this the beginning of the end? I couldn't help feeling like an old pair of sneakers being discarded in favor of something new and fresh. It was a depressing thought, one that was starting to become painfully real.

 

"Good morning, Sport" Mike said cheerfully as he entered the kitchen.

 

"What's good about it?" I mumbled looking down at the table.

 

"What's wrong? Did you have a bad day at work?"

 

"No. It's Dave" I said low and soft. "I think he's trading me in for something better."

 

Mike sat down at the table as Steve walked in looking like a million bucks. He was wearing a sport coat and tie, which he rarely did.

 

"You look nice today, Steve," I commented as my eyes followed him.

 

Then I sighed, placing my elbow on the table and resting my head in my hand.

 

Mike cleared his throat in typical Mike fashion, before he began speaking. "Spill it, young man," he said matter-of-factly.

 

I looked at him then back at the table, "Like I said, Mike, I've been traded in for a newer model. Something flashy and sexier, you know, more appealing."

 

"Tell us what happened, Val," Steve said as he sat down.

 

I took a deep breath, then began, "That's just it, Steve; nothing happened. He didn't call or come over at all yesterday. That's the first day since I've been here that we didn't talk or see each other. He's probably going at it right now with Greg."

 

Mike laughed then I looked at him and my body hiccupped with a chuckle.

 

"Well it's true, Mike. Why else would he be avoiding me? I'm not diseased or anything, and poverty isn't contagious." That made him laugh again.

 

"God, you have an overactive imagination," Mike said, shaking his head.

 

"Why don't you stop feeling sorry for yourself and call him. There has to be a reasonable explanation. He might be thinking the same thing. Did you call him?"

 

I shook my head.

 

"Well … call him," Steve said. "Until you do, this is nothing but conjecture; just guesswork," he patted my shoulder as he stood up, "I have to get going. I have a meeting first thing this morning." He leaned over and kissed Mike goodbye.

 

"I have to get moving, too," Mike said, rising from his chair. "Call me at work after you talk to him; okay, Sport?"

 

"Okay, Mike. Have a good day," I said, then lowered my chin to my palm.

 

I watched him back out of the garage and leave. I was alone again after all the crap I went through. There I was, sitting in Mike and Steve's kitchen in New Orleans, alone and miles from Mom, with no friends. God! I have a fucked up life, if you could call it that.

 

I decided to shower and get out of the house. I needed something to occupy my thoughts. Before I started my routine, I plopped down on the bed wallowing in self-pity. I thought I deserved that much. My eyes started to get teary, so I took a shower, trying to wash away the rejection and disappointment.

 

I straightened up Mike and Steve's room, then the library. I looked at the computer reminding myself of the links Mike said he sent me. I flipped the computer the bird having no use for them now. I left the house, walking toward the streetcar line on St. Charles. I had no idea where I was going.

 

I boarded the one heading downtown and rode it to the end. I knew Steve's office was in a converted old building on Poydras Street, so I started walking in that direction.

 

The sidewalks were busy with pedestrians of all sorts. The smell of the city was very different from uptown. It had the stale smell of vehicle exhaust and a lot more traffic noise. Everyone seemed to be in such a hurry to get … God knows where. The people on the street were actually rude. They bumped into you and walked head-on, causing you to side step them. A few blocks later, and the building housing Steve's firm stood on the opposite side of the street.

 

When I entered the building, there was a large clerestory foyer capped with a mammoth skylight. Exposed brick comprised the exterior walls, while glass partitions defined the offices and hallways rising three or four floors. It was hard to tell from the ground level, looking up. Sunlight illuminated the core of the building providing an uplifting sensation. The daylight caused the glass to reflect a green tint. It was magnificent.

 

"May I help you?" a nice looking woman asked behind the reception desk. Her voice was soft and sweet as she spoke.

 

I approached her saying, "Is Steve Brown in?"

 

"Yes, whom shall I say is here?"

 

"Val Milner," I told her. "If he's busy, that's okay. I can come back."

 

I had a rush of guilt overcome me. I had his home life turned inside out, and now I was showing up at his workplace. So I quickly said to the receptionist, "Forget it, Miss. I don't want to bother him. I'll call him later," then turned and left.

 

I felt stupid as I retraced my steps toward the streetcar. What was I thinking? Steve had more important things to do at work than talk to me.

 

As I waited for the streetcar, my phone started ringing. The caller ID indicated Steve's firm, so I answered, "Hello?"

 

"Val? Where are you?"

 

"I'm waiting for the streetcar to go home."

 

"Is everything okay? The receptionist said you asked for me, then changed your mind."

 

"Everything's fine, Steve. I didn't want to bother you at work."

 

"Did you call Dave?"

 

"No, not yet."

 

"Well, call him! Then call me back; okay?"

 

"Yeah, I'll call him when I get to the house."

 

We said goodbye and hung up.

 

I made it to the house and lay on the sofa in the living room. I didn't know what to do with myself. The house and yard were in order, and I had a few hours before thinking about work. I decided to hit the spa and take in some sun for a while. I was the only one home, so I opted to go naked, taking a towel from the closet next to the back door. I opened the pump house door behind the guest quarters and flipped the switch. I stripped next to the spa and lowered myself in.

 

I slid under water to wet my head, then relaxed with my arms stretched out on the rim. It was the first time I ever used it, and I began to understand why Mike and Steve spent so much time there. I lowered my head onto the stone rim, allowing the rest of my body to float to the surface. I closed my eyes enjoying the excited water and warm sun. A short while later my phone started ringing. I floated over to my clothes but I wasn't fast enough, the call went into voice mail.

 

I looked at the caller ID; it was Dave's number. I decided to check voice mail rather than call him. In his message, he asked where I'd been. He said he was over a while ago, and no one was home. That was true enough, then he asked me to call him. I deleted the message and hung up with a sigh. I guess it was time to face the music. Good, bad, or otherwise, it was time to get it over with, so I dialed his number.

 

Two rings and Dave picked up the phone, "Hello."

 

"Hi, Dave, how goes it?" I asked apprehensively.

 

"Where the hell have you been? Why didn't you stop on your way to work yesterday? Are you mad at me?" He almost sounded frantic with his rapid fire questioning.

 

"No. I thought you wanted to spend time with Greg. Are you seeing him now?"

I winced as I waited for his answer. The time of reckoning was at hand.

 

"Are you serious? You think I'm seeing Greg now? That's crazy! Where did you get that idea?"

 

I was choked for words for a few moments. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Did I really have it all wrong?

 

"Val, are you there?"

 

"Yeah, I'm here," I said slowly. "Mike and Steve told me that, the other night, Greg said he loved you. I thought you two were together, now. You know, like we used to be."

 

"You, dummy. We still are," then he lowered his voice. "I love you, in case you forgot. I'm coming over now. I'll see you in a few minutes."

 

We said goodbye, then I punched the off button. I felt like I awoke from a bad dream. Dave still cared for me and wanted to be with me. That was fantastic. But what about Greg? He loved Dave, and I'm sure he wanted something more than friendship, after hearing Mike's take on things. It sounded like Greg was a closet case. I'm sure Greg resented me, if he loved Dave. How was that going to work? It didn't sound like Greg and I were going to be friends anytime soon. I decided to stop thinking about it. I was growing number by the minute.

 

It wasn't much longer and Dave came bounding into the backyard. Geez, it was great to see him. He knelt behind me bending over and kissed me. I was in Shangri-la as his tongue invaded my mouth and more than happy to accommodate him.

 

When we broke, I said, "Take your clothes off and get in."

 

He shed his threads in record time and hopped in, positioning himself between my legs, kissing and feeling anywhere and everywhere he could. I felt his hard dick against mine and thrust my pelvis into him. He backed away placing his stiff dick between my legs and began to rub it between my thighs and the underside of my ass.

 

He changed his angle of attack by lowering his body so the head of his hard-on was massaging my hole. He was as close to fucking me as he could get without putting it in.

 

I spread my legs allowing him to continue his probing. My dick got so hard and long, it felt like a baseball bat, ready to pop like a roman candle. I squeezed him hard with my arms and legs to slow him down.

 

Things were getting a little too hot and heavy. I didn't want to take it up the ass for the first time in the spa either. I wanted our first time to be tender, rather than crude and lustful. Though Dave's animal instincts were intoxicating!

 

Eventually, he calmed down and we held each other, neither one of us feeling the need to speak. I lowered my head to the small of his neck and kissed it. Then I lay my head on his shoulder and held him, savoring the physical contact.

 

"I love you," he whispered softly in my ear.

 

"I love you, too," I said just as tenderly, meaning it now more than ever.

 

Dave eased his hold and made himself comfortable sitting next to me. I looked into his warm brown eyes with the long lashes and kissed his mouth, with one hand behind his head. God, I loved this guy more than life itself, if that were possible.

 

He returned my kiss, placing his lips over my mouth and drawing it in as he kissed. It felt great—like giant fish lips—over mine. I smiled at the thought. Then he put his arm around me with his armpit hair tickling my shoulder. It made we quiver in a titillating sort of way.

 

"So where did you get the crazy idea I was seeing Greg?"

 

I took a deep breath, then exhaled before I began. "The next morning, Mike told me what you guys talked about in my room. He said that Greg confessed to loving you." Then I paused for a moment to collect my thoughts. "When you didn't call or come over yesterday, I thought you wanted to be with him. I was miserable. I wanted to crawl into a hole and die."

 

Dave shook his head and waved his hand, "That's true, but Greg doesn't love me romantically. He loves me like a brother. He's having trouble with me being gay and having me as a friend."

 

"Do you think he's gay, or maybe … curious?" I asked, remembering Mike's commentary.

 

Dave was quiet for a moment before he responded. "I thought he wanted to mess around once, when we were in his room. No one was home at the time. I waited for him to make a move, but he never did. That was around Christmas last year, right about the time I was starting to think I might be gay. Well, actually, I was pretty sure, but it was more like admitting it to myself than anything."

 

He smiled at me and said, "It's you I love." Then he kissed my cheek.

 

That made things all better. It felt wonderful. All the ominous thoughts I harbored for the last day or so were gone. We had a clean slate again; I was thankful for that.

 

We decided to have lunch, so we dried ourselves and dressed. I turned the spa off and we went to the kitchen. Dave started making lunch while I went to the library to call Steve. The receptionist said he was at lunch, so I called his cell phone. The call went to voice mail so I left him a message, saying everything was fine and I would give him the details later. I left the same message for Mike. He was out to lunch, too.

 

After I hung up I began to think. In two weeks, it would be Independence Day, the Fourth of July. I decided to call Mom and see if it would be a good time to visit, assuming I could get the green light at work. She was away from her desk—probably at lunch—so I left a message.

 

In the kitchen, Dave had our places set, so we sat down to eat. A bite or two later, and Steve came through the back door.

 

"Hi, Steve; I just called you," I said, surprised to see him. "Do you want a sandwich?"

 

"I know. I was around the corner, so I let it go to voice mail. Hi, Dave; how are you guys?" he said, looking at the two of us for some kind of sign.

 

"Good," Dave said, smiling. "Couldn't be better; you want me to make you a sandwich?"

 

"No, thanks; I came home to pick up some papers I forgot this morning."

 

I knew that was a white lie. It was, however, nice that he was concerned enough to come by and check on me. I was sure that's what he was doing. He went to the library to gather something, so his alibi would be complete.

 

On his way out, he patted the back of my shoulder telling the two of us to stay out of trouble, then he was gone.

 

That was real nice of him. I was beginning to feel like a nuisance. I resolved to think things through the next time, before I bothered them with my problems.

 

Dave was in a good mood and cheery as could be. Actually, it was his nature, but he seemed more lively than usual.

 

"Dave?"

 

"What's up?"

 

"I was thinking. Do you feel like going to visit Mom in two weeks? That's the Fourth of July weekend."

 

Dave was quiet for a bit, then said, "Mom and Dad are planning to take the boat to Buras then Grand Isle. They want to see that house again. I was going to ask if you and Greg wanted to go. That is, if it's okay with the she-devil and Dad," then he laughed.

 

 

"You mean your sister is going?" I couldn't resist.

 

He liked that, judging from the grin on his face. He shook his head saying, "No, not that one. Do you think you could come with us?" he asked plaintively.

 

"I have to get clearance at work but I would like to go. What about Greg?

How's that gonna work?"

 

That was a big question in my mind. As big as their boat was, it only had two staterooms meaning the kids sleep together, that being me, Dave, and Greg. I hoped Dave wasn't moving toward some kind of ménage à trois. There was no way I was signing on for that.

 

"We should find him a boyfriend," he said chuckling. "I'm just kidding."

 

"Yeah, right," I said. It wasn't all that funny to me after what I went through. "Well, okay. Let's see what happens. I have to wait to hear from Mom and ask permission at work. We'll see how it goes. I would really like to see Mom again, and I'm sure Mike and Steve would appreciate a quiet weekend alone."

 

Dave agreed. We decided to go for a bike ride in Audubon Park, riding along the river road until I had to go to work.

 

I was planning to use Steve's bike in the garage so Dave took off for home to get his bike. I cleaned up and packed my things for work.

 

I left a note on the table about the bike and left for Dave's house. I parked the bike inside the gate by the garage and knocked on the back door. Dave opened his bedroom window and told me to come up, so I did. Greg was in Dave's room, which surprised me. I wasn't expecting that.

 

"Hi, Greg; how goes it?" I said, trying to arrest the conversation in case they were discussing something they didn't want me privy to.

 

He looked up saying, "Good! Can I go biking with you guys?" He had a pleading look on his face.

 

"Of course! Dude, you're Dave's best friend. You're always welcome," I said cringing inwardly. I was going to have to get used to him being around; that seemed to be a given. It wasn't that I didn't like him; I felt threatened by him like he was trying to take Dave from me. Maybe it was unfounded, but that's the way I felt.

 

Then I had a wave of guilt sweep over me. Why was I being so cagey? Was it because of Dave and Greg's many years of friendship? A history Dave and I didn't have? It made me feel insecure. Damn, I hate this more than anything. Why can't things be simple and easy?

 

"Are you guys ready to ride?" I asked, tired of my self-induced drama.

 

"Yeah, let's go," Dave said.

 

"Saddle up. I'll meet you guys out front." I turned and left Dave's room.

 

We rode to Audubon Park along the river, stopping on the levy periodically to take in the sights. The barges and freighters moved slowly, some of them guided by tugs. There was no breeze, and the river smelled especially onerous under the hot sun. After all, it drained most of the Midwest, east of the Rockies. There was no such thing as cool, clear water at this point. Maybe at the headwaters in Minnesota and Wisconsin, but not here; it was nothing short of polluted and the odor was proof positive.

 

Dave slowed down, hopping off his bike in the park, so Greg and I followed his lead. We sat under an old Live Oak tree with branches larger than the trunks of most others. Dave was in good spirits, but I was still feeling edgy. I couldn't get over the idea of Dave and Greg being together. I was the newcomer to their relationship, the intruder. Dave wanted to include Greg. I wanted to be with Dave. Where was this going? I didn't know and was tired of thinking about it.

 

It was getting late, so I stood, saying I had to go to work. I looked around to see if anyone was looking, then kissed Dave on the cheek and said goodbye to Greg.

 

There wasn't time to go home and catch the streetcar back, so I rode Steve's bike to work. I chained the bike to the dumpster behind the restaurant and went inside.

 

The night was busy, I made a lot of money, more than usual. I didn't have time to think about Dave and Greg until it was time to go home. I finished before Rob and he asked me to wait for him. I said I was riding my bike home and he informed me I could take it on the streetcar. He said it was against the rules but at that time of night, it wouldn't be a problem. So I waited for him.

 

We rode the streetcar together, chatting about many things. Then he asked, "So how are things between you and Dave?" He sounded a little too hopeful that 'things' weren't good. At least I interpreted it that way.

 

"We're doing fine. I was the one that read too much into things like Mike and Steve said. We spent the day together with Greg and had a good time."

 

As soon as I finished I cringed inwardly. I was sure my temporary lapse of cognizance was going to bring a new volley of questions. So I sat there waiting. When it didn't happen, I said, "What do you know about Roger?" I remembered Jerry and Mark warning me about him.

 

Rob gave me a funny look and asked, "Why do you ask?"

 

"Well, "I started hesitantly, "Some friends of Mike and Steve's cautioned me about him without being specific. I wondered if you knew anything."

 

Then he wanted to know who Mike and Steve were. I had to come up with something fast. If I were truthful, it would be the same as admitting I was under eighteen. Not good, being that I lied about my age at work, backing it up with the false ID.

 

I didn't want to blow my cover, either, in the outside chance that Rob might rat me out for whatever reason. So I told him they were my landlords and I was renting the servants quarters behind their house.

 

Rob said he was under the impression I lived with my parents. I told him no. I said I didn't feel like explaining the whole thing the last time we talked about it. He seemed to buy it.

 

"So, what do you know about Roger?" I reiterated.

 

"There were some rumors going around a while ago about him being into boys. He was in some trouble along those lines but was apparently able to skirt the issue. That's all I know, and like I said, it's all hearsay."

 

"Oh," was all I said, digesting the juicy tidbit.

 

My stop was next, so I pulled the cord to alert the driver that someone wanted off. I stood up and took Steve's bike by the handlebars.

 

"Sure you don't want to come by my place for a while?" Rob said with a grin. He was teasing more than anything.

 

"I'm sure," I said trying to look disgusted.

 

We had a mutual chuckle, and then bid each other good night. 

To be continued...

I would like to acknowledge Wayne for his help in keeping me focused or on track, and Chris for his help in editing and proof-reading.

Posted: 10/16/09