Everlasting Love Chapter 7
NOTE: This is a fictional biographic love story as Macy Strickland, his family and friends navigate their way through different stages of their lives. All of the characters in this story are fictional and resemblance to any one person whether dead or alive is purely coincidental. If you liked this chapter, please send me some feed back; I have a rough mental outline for how this goes but some extra details or inspiration along the way are always welcome. If you are offended by intimate male on male emotional and physical relationships, you should be questioning yourself why you are here in the first place. As always, please consider making a donation to Nifty to maintain this website.
Not too long after I got unpacked in Towson and started swimming at the Y, Cal got a phone call from Coach Sessions about a small problem I had; well, maybe it was a big problem. While most of my male team mates wore a Speedo racing suit without any issues, I on the other hand, had a little too much, um, drag in the front and just a month or so shy of the age of 16 I really didn't know why this was an issue. On Coach Session's advice, Cal ordered a couple of team-approved team-colored jammers that I could wear so that my "junk bump" was a little less, um, bumpy. Who knows, maybe that's what inspired Mitch's "who the fuck is that?" comment.
Now I was just about always self-conscious about my bump; like very self-conscious about it. I made sure that whatever jeans or pants I wore didn't have any sort of a pronounced bulge; obsessing about it in front of the mirror on the back of my closet door from every angle. When I did sense my manhood's protuberance, I would immediately untuck my shirt to cover my torso. Also, I learned at poolside to slide out of my warm-up pants or gym shorts just before any race and right back into them as soon as I was dry enough to do so.
After Mitch dropped me off I bounded upstairs and went through my drawer of swim trunks to figure out a solution and ended up with a blue patterned square-cut speedo under black gym shorts because I really wasn't into the boardshort look on my stubby legs. Satisfied that my equipment was not going to be calling any unwanted attention to me, I found a long sleeve red tee shirt with white lettering identifying me as a member of Towson Tritons and slipped into a pair of flip-flops from last year, some cheap knock-off Oakley-styled sunglasses before I grabbed a beach-sized towel and headed downstairs. "Are you going to the club?" Rita asked noticing my ensemble change.
"Yep, I'll be home around five, maybe five-thirty?" I said, asking for permission.
"That's fine Macy, don't forget sunblock" Rita said as I grabbed my keys, wallet and laminated pool membership card out of the drawer from the chest next to the front door.
Even though the club almost backed up to our street, the main entrance was actually around the long block, much closer to Mitch's house than ours. Just as I walked around the bend to the entrance I saw Mitch and Robbie were waiting for me. "Today Macy, today, my girl's in there," Robbie implored, tapping his bare left wrist where a watch should be worn.
We all walked in together, dropping off our pool cards at the desk where they were slotted according to membership number by the lifeguard behind the counter as Robbie began explaining the informal boundaries, "those steps up to the basketball and volleyball courts are the dividing line, to the left is Towson, to the right is Dulaney."
"Thanks, I had no idea," I said with regards to our local high school rivalry, "imagine the shock and horror if I had gone to the dark, I mean Dulaney side."
"There's Karen, she's down at the chair by the diving well," Mitch indicated with just a nod.
Robbie waved at Karen but her attention was focused on the swimmers in the deep end of the L- shaped pool as the three of us found a grassy spot farther up the long easy sloped hill and spread out our towels. "Karen gets a break at 3:30 so when she is out of the chair I'm going to go spend some time with her," Robbie said announcing his intentions before continuing, "Macy, there's usually some volleyball up there and the afternoon wouldn't be complete without Mitch playing some pick-up hoops."
I looked at Mitch who was wearing a pair of Nikes and black crew socks while I had on flip-flops; no way I was playing hoops as I settled on my beach towel while Robbie headed down towards the diving boards. "Pretty nice set-up here," I said to Mitch who was losing his shirt, shoes and socks, just down to a pair of blue Hurley boardshorts that suited his long, slightly hairy legs well.
He nodded affirmatively, almost seeming a bit nervous again, maybe because I took in a long look at his defined pecs with their light trace of hair before asking, "are you any good at volleyball?"
I smiled, "actually, that might be the best thing I can do with a ball."
"Yeah?" Mitch inquired, "are you a setter or a hitter?"
"I'm not the best setter but if anybody pops a ball up just off the net, I got some wicked vertical leap and can smash it almost anywhere."
Mitch cocked his head at me, "Really? You got all that packed inside of you?"
And with a wicked smile I said, "and then some."
"Alright, let's go," Mitch said with encouragement, leading us to the long run of randomly spaced out steps.
There was a recreational mixed game of five on six on the first of the sand courts and then two pairs of girls playing doubles on the middle court and lastly two guys bumping a ball back and forth at the third sand court as Mitch greeted them, "Hey Stokes, how about me and Macy against you and your brother?"
"Sure man," Stokes said, reaching out to shake my hand, "I'm Chris, seen you around, this is my older brother Tommy, he's home from Syracuse for the summer."
"Hi Chris, Hey Tommy, welcome home," I said shaking their hands as Chris lobbed the ball at me.
"You guys can serve first, switch on fours," Chris said referring to switching court sides when the total score can evenly be divisible four to account for wind and sun variances on either side of the net.
I nodded and huddled with Mitch for less than a minute to talk about court coverage before I took the right side and stepped backwards way out of the court onto the soft grass. I called "zeroes" before taking a running three-step approach to the line and tossed the ball up for my jump serve, driving it just past Chris's head into the left rear corner of their side.
"Macy's got game!" exclaimed Tommy as Chris hustled to retrieve the ball.
"One serving zero," I announced before I aced another jump serve into the sand between the Stokes brothers.
The brothers returned the third serve and Mitch bumped it to me and I set him up for a spike. And so it went for almost an hour or so, people coming, watching and going. I cast off my tee shirt after the first game and made some aggressive dives in the sand trying for a couple of decent saves. There were a few times when I felt Mitch watching me more than the ball which usually cost us a point or at least loss of serve. Bump, set, spike; bump, set spike until the other club members began going wherever they went as the late afternoon rolled into early evening.
Robbie came back up to watch once Karen's break was over and after a string of three victories, we all went back down closer to the pool deck. I shucked down my gym shorts and climbed up the ladder on the three-meter board, arching into a swan dive not worthy of any sort of Olympic scoring. The cold water felt good and the velocity of diving into the pool helped wash off the mix of sun block, sweat and sand from my skin before I started to surface. As I swam to the ladder I did a quick junk check before exiting with the water sheeting off of me as Mitch pretended to applaud my performance.
"Where are you and Karen going tonight?" Mitch asked Robbie.
"Movies first, then...who knows," Robbie replied, "how about you guys?"
"I don't know, I don't even know what Mom is going to bring home for dinner tonight," Mitch said with almost a frown on his face; "she's just about completely given up on cooking."
"Don't remind me; your mom just about always sets off the smoke alarm any time she tries," Robbie said, able to get away with such a comment since he witnessed it more than once over the course of their friendship as I tried to suppress a smirky smile and a laugh while we walked and drip dried towards our towels and other belongings.
All of a sudden I felt a lot luckier than Mitch as I watched Robbie get dressed and head for the exit. "Rita's making meatloaf tonight, I'm sure there's plenty if you want," I offered, "maybe then we can just have a night in, watch some TV or a movie, something like that if you want."
"You sure?" Mitch asked
"I think it would be alright, I'll call ahead but dinner is usually around 6:30 or so, after all, Cal and Rita have to have their cocktails," I said explaining the timetable, "I think that's when they plot and plan what is going to happen next in my life."
Mitch smiled, "Okay, I'll be there at 6:30 sharp, call me if it's a no-go."
I made the call as I walked home, Cal in his Lexus spotting me and driving me the last 100 yards or so, "you got your first project, it's in your in-box at work, Lonnie Simmons will be helping you and yes, I know Mitch is coming for dinner."
"Cool," I said as we turned into the driveway.
Once inside I headed upstairs to shower the chlorine off of me and dress for dinner: nicer jeans, a crisp white polo shirt and a pair of nicer leather flip-flops. Rita tasked me with setting the table and later making the mashed potatoes while they sipped vodka tonics in the living room and talked about what was important. I took a chance and put four wine glasses on the table, unsure if Mitch would be offered any but better to be ready than scrambling to play catch up.
One thing I learned was that Mitch is always on time, maybe even a minute or two early but never late. Just before the appointed dinner time he showed up at the back back door, his stealthy arrival just enough to warrant a casual "woof" from Shelby and make her stir as he announced his presence through the open screen door just as Cal and Rita came into the kitchen with their empty cocktail glasses.
Mitch backed out of the way as Rita put the fresh trimmed green beans into the basket steamer that would fit inside the saucepan of boiling water while I mashed up the potatoes with a hand masher before I dumped in butter, sour cream and a little milk before running the small electric hand mixer through the hand mashed potatoes and dairy products to incorporate everything while Cal skimmed excess fat from the meatloaf pan, added a splash of white wine and thickened the sauce a touch of tomato paste.
"Team effort, now I see why Macy has the best packed lunch at our table," Mitch said as a compliment to everybody.
After a quick prayer of thankfulness we ate together, Rita taking control of the dinner conversation with a polite interrogation of Mitch's life since middle school while Cal and I just took turns looking at Mitch and then each other. Shelby got in on the action too, resting her chin on Mitch's leg and used her big brown eyes to try to guilt the newcomer into possibly breaking the house rule of not feeding the dog from the table. Even under the influence of half a glass of blended red wine, Mitch successfully resisted, rubbing her head and telling her "all gone" when he put his fork down.
"Did you get enough?" I asked Mitch and with a nod towards the Chessie, "there's more if you want but you will be cutting into Shelby's portion."
"I better not do that," Mitch replied as Shelby licked his fingers.
Cal took over the questioning, "what do you two have planned for tonight?"
I looked again at Mitch, "we were just going to watch some TV downstairs, maybe a movie?"
"Okay, you can have a pass on dishes tonight, just help Rita clear the table," Cal instructed before turning his head to Rita, " and I heard something about Peach Melba over toasted poundcake for dessert?"
As Rita and I got up, I motioned for Mitch to stay seated, "I got this, I know where everything goes anyhow" leaving Mitch and Cal at the table.
"He's a sweet boy, nervous as all hell but still a sweet boy, Macy," Rita said in her practiced hush teacher voice once we were alone in the kitchen.
"I know, I like him more every day," was my reply.
"Just remember our expectations, be respectful of each other, that's all we ask of you and him," Rita warned in the same hushed voice.
We finished dessert and I hustled the last few dishes out to the kitchen and then led Mitch down to the semi-finished basement. Aside from Cal's old-school drafting table there was a decent sized flat screen TV on the wall with all the necessary accessories for watching cable TV, Apple TV or a disc. "Anything you really want to watch?" I asked as I powered up everything with a universal remote.
"Did you see Love, Simon" Mitch asked
"Yeah, nice story, but..." my voice trailed off, "it's too perfect, just another Hollywood story where everything turns out fine."
"Not real enough for you?" Mitch asked trying to find my position on it.
"Exactly," I said, "you and I are in the real world, with our own lives to navigate. We have to steer around not only our own hurdles and obstacles but those that are put there by others."
"I think sometimes you over-analyze," Mitch said, "which is maybe your way of protecting you, me and maybe us."
"Perhaps...I know I made you a promise and I want to keep it to the best of my ability," I said, pausing as I clicked through the channel guide, "oh look, Love, Simon on HBO."
"Please?" Mitch sort of begged and pleaded.
"For you, anything," I said putting the remote down and motioning for Mitch to sit closer to me on the older leather couch.
We watched and talked and as it ended, Cal flicked the light switch a few times at the top of the steps before yelling down, "Mitch, what time do you have to be home?"
"Midnight sir," Mitch replied.
"Okay, don't be late young man. Rita and I are going to bed now; Macy, make sure Shelby goes out one more time before you go to bed.
"I will Cal, good night," I shouted loud enough to carry up the steps.
Cal left the lights off, just the glow of the TV illuminating us as I snuggled into Mitch, his right arm finally reaching over my shoulders and pulling me into him. I could feel his physical strength holding me close to him gently as he spoke gently, "I had a great time with you today; so many cool things happened."
I let my right hand reach up and grab his, gave it a squeeze and said, "me too, I think we kind of happened a little bit more too."
"Would it be alright if I kissed you?" Mitch tried to ask without sounding too nervous.
"Of course, I would like that very much," I replied, trying to turn and align for the first kiss.
It was so awkward; I mean physically, the way we were trying and twisting to get the best position, it almost hurt! Then I got up and repositioned closer to him at a slight angle, leaning in and letting his lips find mine and then I opened my mouth to let his tongue dive in for the first time. We made out all over that couch, him on top, me on top or sideways, our lips kissing any part of each other's exposed skin, grinding against each other until it was time for him to go home.
There was one more long kiss at the back door as he slipped out to the street lighted sidewalk before he disappeared around the bend to home. As instructed, I let Shelby out before I tiptoed upstairs, quickly stripped to my boxers and slid into bed, Shelby boosting herself up on the bed and curling next to me as I slipped blissfully into a deep sleep.