Once again my breath was pluming in front of me and my feet tapped a tattoo on the sidewalk. I was really pissed at Ms. Greta Fanning right that minute. I know I'm part of the upper class, but don't I have any say in whom I speak with? It wasn't like my parents were going to show up unannounced, they always phoned weeks in advance so that the staff could be properly prepared to be chastised for the upkeep of the house. No matter what state it was in, they would find fault. Personally I thought they were just being assholes.
As I ran up the drive to my house I circled 'round back so that I could enter through the kitchen and grab a glass of milk on the way through. As I rounded the house I saw Ms. Greta's car. Now what could she be doing here on a Sunday? I entered the kitchen and found Greta at the stove, sweating and swearing in a most unladylike fashion.
"What was that, Ms. Greta?" I said with a small smile playing about my lips. I couldn't help it, I know I'm pissed at her, but it was funny.
"Oh! Oh, I said, am I said Fiddlesticks and fish fur!" She said excitedly.
"Miss Greta!" I said, covering my tender ears.
"Oh, go on then!" She said waving a towel at me.
"Why are you here today? Isn't Mr. Guinness coming in?" I asked.
"No, that old box o' bolts he drives broke a fantail or something." She said.
"I thought the fantail was the aft end of a ship?"
"Maybe so, but that damn car is a boat if ever there was one, so if the shoe fits." She finished.
I set about pouring myself a glass of milk and began to converse in an offhand fashion.
"I saw Drew on my run this morning." I commented.
"Oh did you? I hope he didn't bother you any, I told him to lay off. He was quite taken with you the other day."
"Taken with me?" I asked, swallowing milk down the wrong way and spraying it from my nose.
"Oh, look at you! Foaming at the nose you are! He didn't bug you did he?" I shook my head to the negative.
"Good. Yes, he was taken with you all right, but then you're the only one he's met in town that's his age so I wouldn't have been surprised, but he's a good boy. Unlike my sister, I'll tell you. Why once she..."
"Miss Greta," I interrupted, "A...small bird whispered to me that Drew was warned to stay away from me. I won't say what that birdies name was, but it was confirmed for me because he was terrified when he saw me earlier this morning. I know we are from different social circles, but...I've taken a liking to him as well and have no problem with him being around me or talking to me. In fact I'd like to get to know him."
"Master Quinn," Greta began, placing her hands demurely in front of her, "I thank you for trying to be kind to him, but please don't fall victim to pitying him. It's his lot in life to be what he is, not to mention what your parents would say."
"Miss Greta, I honestly like him. And I want to get to know him, and there is no pity involved. I refuse to judge someone by the amount of money in his or her pockets. If you've no use for him this evening, tell him he may call round seven. He's invited to take the evening meal with me."
She stared open mouthed at me, before a grin began to cross her face, "Aren't you a one?" She said.
I went upstairs and got cleaned up, as per my ritual. As the residue from the exercise rolled off in tiny droplets I once again reflected on the morning, adding the aftermath in the kitchen. I was pleased with myself, to say the least. I would get to meet Drew in a more relaxed environment and get to know him. Maybe then my curiosity of him would be satisfied. That said I sat down in front of the TV and switched on a video game, my efforts were all for naught though as I became increasingly unable to concentrate. Perhaps some chat time would help.
After replacing the video game and switching off the TV I went to my computer and powered it up. I have so much shit on it that it takes forever to get anywhere, so I headed down for a cup of tea while it booted up. As I descended the stairs with only socks on my feet, you know the ankle high ones? I like those best. Anyway, I was heading into the kitchen again when I heard Greta's voice on the phone.
"Yes, you should dress nicely, of course. Try not to discuss too much, he's really smart Drew and he will probably do most of the talking. Most of the rich will do that, you'll find. Yes, that should be fine. If you look in my top dresser drawer you'll find a black belt that should fit you. Yes, he really wants you here, it seems you made a good impression whatever happened between you two this morning. Ok, I'll be there to get you about 615 and dinner is promptly at seven. I made a ham so it can be safely unattended. Yes, you'll be in the dining hall. Don't be silly! All the dinner guests go in the dining hall. I don't know, rich people like dining halls so they can show off I guess. Ok, I'll see you then, be ready! You don't want to mess up your good impression, god knows."
I backtracked a few feet and then rambled into the kitchen, catching her on the phone.
"Is that Drew, Miss Greta?" I asked innocently.
"Yes, yes it is. I was just telling him what time to be ready for dinner."
"May I speak to him?" I asked, again innocently.
"Of course," She spoke into the phone, "Master Quinn would like a word with you, hold the line Drew."
She handed me the phone, and I spoke into the receiver.
"Hello? Drew?" I asked, suddenly nervous. I had been so confident a moment ago, what would I say to him? Inspiration hit me.
"H...hello, Mister Quinn." Drew said hesitantly.
"Listen, I thought maybe we could watch a movie after dinner, am, would you care to?"
"Well, if Aunt Greta says..." He began.
"I'll check with her." I said, looking at her with a pleading expression. She nodded her assent and I returned to the phone, new thoughts at hand.
"She says it's ok. Listen, some people don't like eating in the dining hall, what say we eat in the kitchen and I'll show you about the place and then the movie, eh?"
"Oh, ah, sure I guess that sounds fine. I don't really have the, ah, nicest things to wear in a dining hall anyway." He said quietly.
"It's not the clothes on the person in the dining hall, it's the person in the clothes, in the dining hall." I replied. "So we can eat there if you'd like, but it's your call."
After some small talk that seemed to be uncomfortable for him, I let him off before returning upstairs. I was starting to feel badly, what if he just didn't like me and it wasn't nerves at all, but that he just didn't want to see me? The thought worried away at the back of my head as I got on the computer, which had finally finished it's booting and was ready to go. Fortunately, we had a cable connection, so I was up and running in the net quickly. I turned on the chat program and was greeted instantly by a long time Internet friend. We chatted idly until he asked me if something was wrong. I told him I honestly wasn't sure. I tried to explain myself, and then the tone of his messages got very cold and suddenly he disconnected from me. I tried to re establish the chat with him, but it said he was ignoring me. I was shocked, what could I have said to make him do that?
I mulled the problem with a vague sense of unease, because whatever the problem was it had something to do with what I was saying to him. And I was trying to explain this strange situation with Drew. Was there something wrong with that? Did I say something that wasn't appropriate? And if I did, what was it and why was it offensive or inappropriate? I reviewed the whole thing and just couldn't figure it out. I walked away from the computer and started to get ready for dinner. Dinner with Drew, I reminded myself.
He didn't have much, so I would dress in an understated way so as not to make him feel uncomfortable. I pulled on Khakis and a gray tee shirt, and put a button up shirt over it. After buttoning the last button I put on tan socks and reddish leather loafers. Lastly I placed a tie about my neck, and felt as if I were sufficiently made up for casual company. I whistled as I combed my hair and then brushed my teeth so that I wouldn't kill him with dragon breath. Not that I would be that close to him, I guess. A wave of sadness rushed through me at the thought. Now where did that come from?
I heard miss Greta leave and I walked downstairs, checking my appearance in the randomly placed mirrors. I strolled through the house and then it occurred to me that I should choose a movie before he arrived. I headed to the video cabinet and began looking; no not that it was a chick flick. Nope, just a shoot em up. I needed something to impress him with, and I was at a loss. I settled on 'The Madness Of King George'. That should do it! I paced nervously from the sitting room to the front hall and back again. Why was I so nervous? My thoughts drifted to the movie, what if he didn't like that kind of movie? What if he liked the shooters? Maybe I should let him choose, yes that would be smart. I headed for the sitting room when I heard the car door close outside. They were here already! I checked myself in the mirror again and made some hasty adjustments. I crossed the room to peer out the window as they walked to the kitchen door and noticed he looked scared to death. I noted his open jacket and the lack of a tie. Was I being too formal? I struggled to remove the tie, and lacking another place, stuffed the tie in my pocket. I walked to the rear of the house and over heard Miss Greta admonishing him to mind his manners. I chose to spare him anymore of that as I entered the room.
"Hi, Drew, I'm so glad you could make it." I said extending my hand and smiling broadly. He stared at me for a moment as if stunned and then took my hand. Was his palm sweaty or was mine? He smiled and my heart melted, and as I realized that my heart felt like it was galloping in my chest and my cheeks felt hot and flushed. Was I having a heart attack?
"Hello, Master Quinn. Thank you for inviting me. I hope I look all right for eat...dining in the dining hall." He said quietly.
I took stock of his dress at that point. His shirt was clean albeit threadbare with a slight discoloration on the pocket. His pants were navy once, but were now faded and had those little balls of cloth on them.
"You could show up in a burlap sack and be fine for the dining room." I replied. Pointedly ignoring his clothes and looking at his well scrubbed face. He blushed! I wonder why? I led him to the dining hall and we were seated as the food was brought out. Remembering Greta's comment about the rich talking too much I opened the conversation.
"So where are you from?" I asked.
"Chicago." He said quietly.
"Did you like it there?" I prodded.
"It was ok. At least I thought so 'till I came here." He looked away from me.
"So, what was it like in Chicago?" I asked. He looked at me carefully and then replied in a deliberate manner.
"My mother and I lived in a one room apartment. I slept on the couch, unless my Uncle was home. Then I slept on the floor, or out in the hall if the door was locked. There was a park across the street where I met my...friend Kody. He was in a group home. I would have gone there too, except my mother died."
"I'm so sorry, Drew. I had no idea." I felt like such an ass!
"It's ok. I really didn't know how bad it was, I never knew any different. I knew there were rich people, but I never thought....well I never thought they'd be nice to me."
"Why not? There isn't anything wrong with you, you're a nice guy." He smiled.
"It's because I don't have the things that you do, or others like you."
"Sure you do. You have ten fingers, ten toes, two eyes..."
"You know what I mean." He replied looking down at his food.
"No, I don't."
He looked away for a full minute before speaking, and slowly he brought his eyes to face mine, brimming with tears.
"Why are you doing this?" He asked.
"I...I don't understand what you mean." I replied.
"Why are you bringing me here? Why have you asked me to dinner?" His voice dropped, "I don't want to be pitied."
I was dumbfounded. I was upsetting him with my attention? I had caused him to believe I was full of no more than pity for him? How could I fix this?
"Drew, I didn't ask you here from pity. There are plenty of rich children that I could have asked."
"None of them could clear their schedules?" He sniffed.
"I don't know." I said quietly, "I didn't ask them. Truth be told I don't really get on well with most of them. They all seem so very false to me, and you seem very honest and open. I like that." How's that for honest?
He regarded me solemnly and I decided that the tension needed to be relieved. But how?
"Is that a tie in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?" He asked in that same quiet voice. My jaw dropped! He smiled, and then sniggered. I began to giggle and the tension was broken. I knew it needed doing, but he had actually done it! Is that brave or what?
Dinner went smoothly after that, well ok lets be honest here, an earthquake would have been smoother. But he didn't get up and run from the table either so it wasn't all bad. He asked about my parents and I told him the whole boring saga. We finished the meal and retired to the video room, where we took seats, he in a wingback chair and myself on the couch.
Miss Greta came in to say she had to run home to feed her cat and make sure it was inside and then she would return. The movie started and we were both into it actually, it looked as though my movie selection was going to work out. I kept stealing glances at him and he was so nice to look at in profile it was almost breathtaking. I noticed that the snow had started to fall again in earnest, no wonder Miss Greta wanted to check on her cat. We were nearing the end of the movie when the television suddenly went dark, and the lights as well.
Drew and I wandered to the window and had a look about. We stood, shoulder-to-shoulder and stared at the blizzard before us. Visibility was down to nothing more than a few feet. The phone rang shrilly in the kitchen and I went to answer since we were the only ones home. Oh my! I was alone with Drew! The caller turned out to be Miss Greta. The roads were being closed and she couldn't get back to the house. I filled her in on the power being out and the phone lines still being up for the moment. She said the radio repots it will b the worst storm this year. After finding out where the candles and flashlights were, we rung off.
The house started to get a chill to it quickly due to the high ceilings and no more heat coming through. I went and got the candles out and lit one for each of us. Drew was shaking a little bit, with cold I imagine.
"Would you like a sweater? You look cold." I asked. Drew looked at me hesitantly and nodded yes. I headed up to my room and Drew followed me. I opened the door to my room and we walked slowly in the darkened room. I stopped and turned to ask what size he wore when he walked right into me and we fell in a tangle on the floor.
Being honest, I thrilled at the contact. He was very warm and felt supple through his threadbare shirt. He jumped up quickly but not before I thought I felt him stiffening. Good god, was I exciting him? Could it be?
"I am so sorry, I'm so clumsy and stupid I didn't mean it, are you all right?" He said all in a rush. I was going to stand, but the feelings rushing through me kept me breathless for a moment. I managed to tell him I was ok, and slowly gathered myself to stand. He held out his hand to me to help, and I took his hand in mine. Again I had to wonder who was sweating at the palm?
As I stood I saw the moonlight filling the room through the open curtains reflected in his eyes, and the gentle curve of skin over his high cheekbones accentuated the piercing dark eyes. My god, I think I'm in love. He smiled and his mouth opened a bit. Then he waved a hand in front of my eyes and that broke my concentration.
"What?" I said in confusion.
"The sweater, Master Quinn? I am very cold." He replied timidly.
"Sweater, right! I forgot for a moment. Um, Drew, please call me Quinn. That Master stuff is for the amusement of the adults, not my friends." I said, and turned away as I saw his eyes begin to tear again. Why was it everything I said brought him pain? Maybe he didn't want to be my friend at all. I chose a warm, thick sweater from the closet and handed it to him. His hands brushed mine as he took the offered garment, and two things hit me at once. First were that his hands were so smooth that they felt similar to velvet. No, softer, and their touch bordered on electric. And the second thing? My palms were the ones doing all that sweating.
We went back downstairs and over to the sitting room. I had the idea to light a fire in the fireplace, but the wood was all outside. He got a gleam in his eye and became enthusiastic about it, so I figured why not? It makes him happy, and I love to see him smile. So I put my boots on and headed for the back door. I shouldered my parka, which was hanging in the alcove of the kitchen door, and headed out to the wood shed some twenty feet from the house proper. About halfway between, with just the outline of the building to guide me, I felt a quick pressure on the back of my head, and white particles flew around the side of my face. He had hit me with a snowball! I turned, stooping to scoop snow and was hit again in the leg. I fired a return shot, which he ducked easily, but my next round got him in the chest squarely! The battle raged for about ten minutes before our hands were too cold. He went back in the doorway and I retrieved several large pieces of wood, as well as two trips of kindling. Six trips in all and I was frozen.
Drew started the blaze expertly and then returned to me on the couch, where I had pulled a throw on myself. He took each of my hands and rubbed them, and then encased them both in his warn hands. It was heaven as the warmth slowly seeped back in and his touch was like magic. I became aware of my wet pants and noted his were wet as well, and much thinner than mine. Fire or no, he must be cold. I suggested we get sweatpants from upstairs. He agreed and we went back upstairs, chattering our teeth a bit. I dug through the dresser drawers and found an old pair that would better fit Drew, as he is slimmer than I. I handed them to him and I grabbed a pair for myself. When I turned around Drew had his pants off and was pulling up the sweats. I was entranced by his legs, they weren't ripped by any means, but well defined and had a light dusting of hairs that were standing up due to the static of the fabric of his pants sliding off. He wore boxer briefs, which outlined everything they were supposed to cover, and he wore those ankle high socks that showed his legs all the way down to the bottom of the calf. The moonlight reflected off his skin and bathed it in crystal luminescence, god he was beautiful. He turned and caught me looking as he drew the sweats up! I felt my cheeks flushing with embarrassment at being caught and averted my gaze.
"I...am, I'll wait for you downstairs." He said. I nodded in shame and he left the room silently. I dropped my sweatpants on the foot of the bed and looked out the window, which was behind the headboard. I sighed deeply and admitted to myself that my curiosity about Drew was not satisfied in any way, if anything my thirst for the details that made him who he was had intensified. I unbuttoned my pants and removed my legs, one at a time and then laid them on the bed. As I bent for the sweats I caught sight of the most curious and strangely exciting thing that has ever happened to me.
The window reflected the room very poorly, but some things were possible to see. The door stood ajar, and Drew was in the shadows watching me.