Harvard Comes To Montana

"Harvard Comes To Montana" Chapter Eight

By Griz

umgriz@protonmail.com

Hi, Guys;

So: Has Harvard Come To Montana to stay? That's certainly Jeff's and the Taylors' hope. Jeff hopes Anders really will want to team with him on the farm business, too. While not exactly the next chapter of this story, the next chapter in Jeff's life is unfolding and abound with possibilities. The greatest uncertainty, though: his own higher education. He knows he can make the farm maintain the success his own father had, who didn't go to college. None of his ancestors got more than a high school diploma, and some had nothing beyond the Eighth Grade.

Jeff doesn't want just another generation of `status quo', though. He has long dreamed of improving the efficiency of the operation while reducing some of the associated costs of farming. It was a lot of what his parents talked about, but never implemented. He's gung-ho on learning how to manage and administer a farm business. The return on on the investment of time and resources in learning those fundamentals will be his legacy. Jeff is the guy we all know who has an older car that he has put a turbo-charged motor in, and improved the brakes, and other refinements----and despite all the increased power and improvements, it gets better fuel economy, too. Apply that same logic and principles to farm management, and you have the agro version of the guy and his car.

Also: to explain Custom Combiners.....

For small to medium-sized farming operations (fewer than 5,000 acres), it's often not cost--effective to buy or lease (and maintain!) larger farm implements. That's where harvesting companies are beneficial. These are operations that own no land, but have sometimes dozens of tractors, seeders, combines and other harvesting equipment----including operators. As of this chapter, the current rate is based on acres harvested; not on hours. $35/acre will get the crop harvested and processed and into a large truck. Same with hay (alfalfa or other feed grass). There are many company names that'll work from the border all the way into the Plains provinces of Canada. We worked with the company called Custom Combines, which was recently merged with another contract harvester.

Harvesters are scheduled in advance. They show up, do their jobs, and move onto the next farm. My dad called them `Locusts', because they'd descend on our farm and have it harvested in hours instead of days. The operators are almost always nice guys who become part of the family for a couple of days. I'm in regular contact with two combiners from our place, so at least in their case, they became part of the family for a much longer period than a day or two.

I hope you'll like Chapter Eight. This writing project has been an absolute blast, and I appreciate every one of your emails in response to it.

Griz

*** The following story is a work of erotic fiction. If you are under the age of 18 or if this type of fiction is prohibited in the location where you are reading this, do not read any further.

All characters and names are creations of the author. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

Please show your support for Nifty, a great organization that gives opportunities to all types of authors to express themselves. To find out how you can contribute, go to donate.nifty.org/donate.html ***

The rest of Tuesday passed well and uneventfully. Mom made contact with the Custom Combine guys, as well as the grain truck company in Great Falls. All was arranged, so that was something the three of us could find just a little relaxing comfort in.

Anders returned from his stop at Eva's. He carried in a box of every flavor of muffin she had, as well as three slices of pie. Peach, huckleberry and grapefruit meringue. Anders smiled just a little when he came in, placing the box on the table, as well as a drink carrier with three iced drinks. Plain, old iced tea; limeade, and huckleberry punch. Lola Cola bounded in after him, with the same `YAY! Today is Christmas AND my birthday!' look on her face that she and all Bernese are born with.

Mom joined us at the kitchen table, and we all sat down. Anders reached to grab three forks out of the drawer behind the table. We sampled the muffins and decided the best of the lot was the raspberry cream cheese. Of the pies: none of us had ever heard of grapefruit meringue, but it was the perfect combination of tart, bitter and sweet. We decided to save the rest of Eva's pastries until after dinner, but we enjoyed the drinks. Anders said Eva had made them all herself. Nothing about that woman will ever surprise me.

By the time he left there, he said she'd had cars and pickups lined up 15 deep. He and Lola Cola stood outside while she worked, but talked with her through the screen door. At some point, Eva's niece showed up, smiling broadly at the busy atmosphere. She washed up, put on an apron and shooed Eva out from the espresso machine, which freed her up to talk with customers and take orders. She promoted her own baked goods, and they sold out entirely by the time Anders left. All three of us were pleased with the success of her enterprise. Mom and I shared a private look----and a smile.

With little else to do but check on the cattle, horses, chickens and eat dinner later, we relaxed our way toward sunset and the end of the day. I soaked in the jacuzzi for awhile, and went out to the barn to take my shower there. Mom had thought it was silly for Dad to put a full bathroom in the barn, but as we boys grew up and temporary hired hands came and went, Dad's idea made more and more sense, all the time. He even tore up the floor in the corner of the barn where the bathroom was, and ran copper pipes that would sit right up against the restored flooring. In Winter, the hot water circulating pump kept the floor and bathroom toasty warm.

I was showering when my phone rang. It was Marc's ringtone. I smiled but continued getting clean. We'd have a good, relaxing conversation after I smelled like Life Buoy and Suave. We hadn't talked much earlier in the day. I knew he had a lot on his mind, but we made time to send texts here and there, just to stay present and annoying to each other. I smiled because we weren't annoying to each other, but we were pretty evenly matched for wit. I was happy I could `keep up' with such a well-educated man's humor, and I held my own. That in itself caused me to think more than once that we had a decently solid ability to communicate, at least until the end of August. And while premature to think of this, I kinda hoped, regardless: until the end of my life.

Mom was in the living room, reading through some files. She smiled when I leaned in to kiss her forehead. Mom didn't look sad, just tired. I was learning what an emotional toll a sudden death in a family can exact, as well as events and just Time itself leading up to the funeral and goodbye our community would wish Ned Wojtowicz. I told Mom I was turning in, and asked if she needed anything before I go up. She didn't, she said; but I knew what she really wanted was just to make it through Wednesday. Anders and I would see that she did, as well as each other.

Anders' bedroom door was closed, but the light was on and he was talking with someone on the phone. I heard Lola Cola scratch the door from within, so I knocked lightly and turned the handle to let her out. Anders nodded at me and smiled, and resumed his conversation. She and I walked the length of the hall to my bedroom. I no sooner had the light turned on than Lola Cola jumped up on my bed and groaned, lying down and taking the extra weight off of her back. I smiled at her and she wagged her tail, and waved a paw at me. Such an easy dog to love. I was delighted to hear there'd be more of her, too.

I rubbed Lola Cola's belly, which was attention and ministration gratefully received. Clothes off and lying beside her, I grabbed my phone and read Marc's voicemail transcription.

"Hey, Cowboy; or should I write `Farmboy'? You do both. What do you think? I hope your day is ending well. You'll need solid rest, Jeff. Tomorrow will be.....well, it's different for all of us, burying parents. I'll hope it's a positive experience for you and your family, or at least that it won't be bad. Nothing is more relative than a response to a death and funeral.

My day has ended well. I spent most of it researching Lewistown School District #1, and the history of education in Fergus County. It wasn't dull research, by any means. It looks like labor and management get along pretty well. It also has a graduation rate that would be almost unbelievable in a city: 97 percent. Emil wasn't kidding that the teachers like teaching. Jeff, I think I could talk all night about this, but you need rest. If it's not too late, or if you feel like talking, please call. I'll be up until Midnight, I think. Regardless: hug and kiss, `CowFarmBoy'. Yeah, there: that'll work. Bye."

I smiled. It was not too late. I will get my rest. But first.....I need some Professor Time. Ring-A-Ling-Ding-Dong.

"Hey, Jeff. Hi."

"Cow-Farm-Boy'? That's new. And yeah, it works. I'm just glad we're not primarily pork producers. Not sure I'd want to be called PigBoy'."

"I think I'd cringe if I heard someone call you that.....I can only imagine the damage you could inflict on someone with those arms."

"Heh.....nah, I'm more devious and cunning than a punch to the throat when there are no brains north of it. I'd be more given to laughing at him in public with his friends around, and then patting his arm while saying just a little too loudly, `Oh.....I guess you're still upset about.....well, I'm sure you don't want that discussed here. You, She and I both know you tried, and that's all that matters. It happens to lots of guys, from what I've read.....' Then turn, wave and smile, and get the fuck out of there before he realizes I've ruined his sexual reputation for years to come."

"WOW! Note to myself: never upset Jeff, or never go out in public, if I have!"

"See? Why is that so hard for everyone else to understand? The time it would save me. I was in the shower when you called. That shower in the barn, just rural and basic, but once I'm in, I don't want to come out again."

"What was that last part? You WERE talking about a shower, right? Did I misunderstand....?"

"You have an absolutely filthy mind, Professor Taylor; I'm very pleased to report."

"Well, you didn't say `no', so I'm gonna run with it."

"Marc, I realize you just began digging into the school district, but did you find anything that would lean you away from the job?"

"No. I think Superintendent, um, Emil, was far from exaggerating when we talked today. I think, though, that funding from the state could be a challenge if the legislature leans further in its current political direction. There are three legislators who think schools should run on only the support of the communities they're in; no state funds for education. I'd not like to think what would become of this or other small school districts if they got their way. Other than that, the more I read, the more I want to dig."

"If you take the job, assuming it's offered to you, would that change the work you're doing on your fourth book?"

"A little. I think rather than focus on teaching History at a college level, I'd pull it back to History in high school. I'm only outlining the book right now, anyway. I'm not compelled to publish again, although doing post-doctoral work kind of tickles my gray matter just a little. How're your family doing today?"

"I think we're as `healthy' as we can be at this point. We are resolved as a team to focus on harvest and then plant the Winter Wheat. It's the hardest Red Durum wheat and is the best for pasta. This wheat from the current Spring crop is softer, but not much; it'll be best for bread flour. Heh.....does my little expository speech on Winter versus Spring wheats tell you how focused I am on crops?"

"I still say: you're passionate about farming and crops. I like your passion."

"Um, Marc....."

"Yes, Jeff?"

"I like that you like my passion. It goes beyond grain and livestock, you know."

"I gathered. The few minutes in my grandparents' den proved that much."

"Can we leave even the mention of your grandparents out of this part of the conversation.....?"

"We can. But on the issue of my Grandies.....we had an interesting talk this evening at dinner."

"Oh? About the pork ribs? How were they? Corn or peas?"

"Asparagus; my favorite. The ribs were fantastic. I ate two racks."

"Note to Self: buy an extra hog at market in October....."

"Silly. We talked about the events of this morning. You know. The ones you were there for, and played an integral role in."

"Still can't believe that happened, but honestly, I still can't believe YOU happened. Anyway.....go on."

"Remember Grammy and Grampy both offering to sell me the house?"

"How could I forget? Fastest real estate offer from a seller to a buyer, ever."

"Yeah, indeed. That seemed to be all that was on their minds. Grampy called a real estate attorney in Helena and asked questions. Basically, they can `give' me this house, the contents and the old truck without either of us being taxed on it, due to a big lifetime gift exemption, which is twelve million dollars. I was feeling uncomfortable with the conversation, because this is all so sudden. I asked if this could wait until after I get an actual interview before the school board. After some mild resistance, the Grandies agreed to that."

"Wow.....that's amazing. I had no idea how any of that works. So.....congratulations, maybe?

"Maybe. I almost think I'd rather pay the inheritance tax on the current value of the home and not worry about being audited every year for the rest of my life. At least the conversation is tabled for awhile, but they might be gone by the time a hiring decision is made---if it ever is made."

"Marc, I really loved the enthusiasm you and your grandparents had for even just the idea of the job here. I want you to know I'm entirely sincere when I say I'm enthusiastic, too."

"Thanks, Jeff. I believe you are. I'd be lying if I said your thoughts on all of this didn't matter to me in entertaining a job here. I'd most definitely like to know you more, and particularly the man you're thrust into becoming."

"Wow.....well, pretty much all my life, I've wanted to someday take over the farm. Someday. The ink isn't yet dry on my high school diploma."

"I know you're still young. I am, too, in the bigger scheme of things. We both know what's important to us, what we want, and maybe an idea how we want to get there. Can I be candid with you about something else I studied today?"

"I appreciate candor. Unless it's about my feet. I have big feet."

"You are Polish, after all; big feet AND big hands. Just.....'big, big and bigger'."

"ANYWAY.....what else was on your research radar?"

"The University of Montana---the other Harvard, as you pointed out Sunday morning---offers undergraduate degrees entirely online, with only term tests being required on campus. And among those degrees is a B.A. in Business Management. Also for Marketing, Finance, Administration, and about a dozen others in other schools at the university."

"WHAT?!?"

"Do you need me to wait for you to turn up your Beltone?"

"Smart-ass. I'm not deaf. Seriously? Holy fuck.....I hadn't even considered distance learning, Marc. I've had barely enough time to consider what kind of underwear you like. And YES, I have thought about that....."

"Oh----in that regard, I can tell you: anything cotton by Blue Buck and Duluth Trading Company. Preferably blue, black or green. Briefs. 32" waist. But where was I.....oh, yeah. As regards school: it's likely your scholarships would still be applicable. Were your awards generous, if I may ask?"

"Um, well, yes.....one is a full ride tuition scholarship, and the other two are discretionary spending, which I'd planned on using for books and toward housing on campus."

"Suddenly I feel mentally inadequate in our association....."

"Marc, don't feel that way! Not at all! I'm into you only for your body and face! Don't let your intelligence, or lack of it, even enter into the equation. Oh.....do you know the word `equation'? Need me to spell and define it....?"

"The truth comes out! I'm not Lu Barney's boy toy; I'm yours. Well, I guess we couldn't have met in the library. To hear you tell it, I would probably be denied access."

"Damn.....I played that card too soon.....well, back to the truck stops for me, I guess. So: college could still happen.....I'm glad I'm lying down. That's.....big news, Marc."

"I thought so, too. I also checked into University of Great Falls' satellite campus. Yes, you could get an Associate's, but just General Studies. They'd prefer you focus those credits on a nursing degree at their Great Falls campus, though. Anyway, both could be done remotely."

"My gosh. Marc, I never thought about this. It's kind of ironic.....my mom was telling me recently that `black and white' thinking doesn't always give a full picture of possibilities. I was seeing my immediate future as being "farm" or "college". I see now Mom was telling me not only about other people's thinking, but my own. She just didn't realize it at the time."

"Jeff, you're too intelligent and have too much potential for an even brighter future to limit yourself to only one of those. Okay, just one last thing....."

"Okay, Steve Jobs. Whenever you're ready......let me guess: Apple created an iTractor! Sold! Take my money!"

"HAHAHA!!! No! Okay, just go with me here on this.....I continued poking around online....."

"And found my Chaturbate page? Don't tell Mom and Anders!"

"HA! I am ready to send you tokens until my savings have run dry! Are you ready to be serious, Silly Fucker?"

"I guess. Fine. Ruin my mood."

"Actually, I think this will only enhance your mood....."

"Really? I'm not sure I can take more good news. I wish you were holding me again. Or still. Yeah, still. You hold well."

"Well, I COULD tell you while we do that.....if you're lucky and I'm desperate....."

"FUCKER! Give me 15 minutes."

Before Marc could respond, I got up and dressed. Marc's news might be good, and he might just be fuckin' with my head, and wanted only to announce that Sears was having a sale on tools. Although.....tool sales are always good to get my tool sailing (don't hate me). Still, I hoped for a hug and whatever Marc had to say into my ear, even if it was only the alphabet.

Lola Cola could read my excitement and wagged her tail, barking. I ruffled the fur on her head and scratched her ears and told her to stay. She put her head back down and rolled more onto her back, so I rubbed her preggers belly, too. Lola Cola groaned just a little; she was not hating the prenatal massage. She was going to be a great mom.

I stopped by Anders' room and knocked. He was reading something online.

"Big Brother, You should lock your door if you're going to be watching that kind of stuff. And don't let Mom catch you."

"Mom would object to me reading commodity prices?"

"My goodness, Brother; how fast you can toggle between tabs. SURE, `commodity prices'.....whatever. Hey, um, I'm going into town for maybe an hour. Lola Cola is on my bed, just relaxing."

"Hmmm.....the Sun is setting and you're going to town.....somehow I doubt for the Evening Vigil at St Leo's....."

"Yeah, well, you're not wrong. Anyway, you need anything from anywhere still opened in town?"

"No, but thanks. Look, Jeff; you're not an idiot----most of the time. But if you think you're gonna end up staying in town, at least call me so I'm not waiting up until morning for you."

"Nothing like that, although the very notion makes my mouth water."

"How about if you're going to be more than two hours, you call anyway? Seriously, Jeff. Please."

"I will, Anders. Of course."

I began to walk down the hall. Anders was apparently not finished talking with me.

"And if you come back all bow-legged and broke-backed, I will NOT believe any made-up story that you were out riding Lightning Bolt!"

I had no witty response to that, so I just laughed. Anders really is funny, and I loved that he and I got along so well. Teaming with him on this farm was doing to have its moments, of course; but most of the time? We'd be in each other's minds so deeply, little was going to get in our way.

The trip to town was nice. Driving the county road with both windows open allowed my nose to fill with the results of hard work for all the miles the eye could see. Not just our crops, but those of our friends and neighbors, too. The only crop I could not ever smell was corn, unless I was actually husking an ear close to my face. Standing in alfalfa was nearly overwhelming, but in a good way. And you know by now: Rye is my aphrodisiac, and Dad's Rye whiskey, my cologne. (Yes, that last part is a fact.)

I drove through Eva's. Anders said Eva's niece was already there, so I thought I'd be friendly and say hi.

"Hey, Eva!"

"Hey, Jeff! I hope you didn't come here for muffins or pie; I sold out!"

"Good for you, and I'm not surprised! Mom, Anders and I sampled the ones you sent back with him. That raspberry-cream cheese muffin is now the one against which all others will be judged."

"AHAHAHA! I'm glad you liked it! Which of the pies did you like----if any?!"

"`If any', she says! The grapefruit meringue was not at all what I expected when Anders said what it was. It was so good, three forks were battling each other for every crumb and morsel. How'd you even think of that?"

"I didn't have lemons, but I had ten pounds of Ruby Red grapefruit. It was just an experiment, but I'm glad you liked it."

"Eva, when word gets around about that pie, you're gonna have carpal tunnel syndrome from juicing grapefruits."

"I'm glad the experiment worked, my favorite little lab mouse! Oh---my niece got into town today. This is Kim."

I saw the person by Eva who had long, black hair, tied in back. She looked maybe early-20s, but I'd not have been surprised if she was in high school. She moved into the window by Eva.

"Hi; you're Jeff? I met your brother today. You look alike!"

"Nice to meet you, Kim. Yeah, I'm Jeff. Anders came back to the farm for the Summer to help get the harvest in and the Winter wheat planted."

"Well, see you around. I hope everything goes as well as possible tomorrow."

"Thanks, Kim. Eva, I'm on my way into town. You have any other masterpieces back there you'd like entered into the fair?"

"God, no! I'm nervous enough about one being in there! All those farm wives standing around, judging a new-comer's submission? I'm gonna put cotton in my ears so I can't hear the chorus of laughter all the way from the East side of town!"

"Well, Mrs Correy had all the others gathered around remarking about how tall and good your pie looked, and yes, they know it's yours. All right, I'm off; talk with you two later."

Eva and Kim waved me goodbye, and I drove forward, past the turn-off for the old radar base that stood for decades like giant mushrooms in the distance. A few minutes later and I was on Main Street Hill, passing the old A&W Root Beer drive-in, now some cellphone store. That transition falls ironically from progress' to regress', in my opinion.

The Taylors' home was close, and I could feel my adrenaline starting to course through my veins. The conversation with Marc was nice and all, and I was enrapt by the college information he told me. I don't know what could be better than that, but apparently he thinks he has something that is. Since he said I'd get a two-for-one that included more huggage, this would be worth the drive. Seeing Marc Taylor waving at me from 500 feet would be worth a drive.

And speaking of the handsome, charming devil; there he was, standing outside when I drove up. I turned off my truck and got out, walking toward him on the sidewalk. The Sun had only just set, but there was still light in the sky. The street lights weren't on yet. Marc smiled and walked with me up to the house. Once inside, Mr Taylor and Mrs Taylor greeted me, and walked outside. What....? I could hear the garage door open.

"You young people have a nice chat. This young lady and I are going for a drive through the Dash-Inn for ice cream spins. Might as well get one last cruise on the drag in my old buggy!"

They laughed and got in that wonderful truck and drove out of the neighborhood. Marc pulled me into the little den, even closing the doors and turning on one faint little light on the ancient console radio that was ancient when the Taylors got it. Likely it was passed down as a family heirloom. It worked, but kind of rigged; Marc had hard-wired an AUX port on the back, and plugged his iPhone into it. He found an old 30s playlist, and played it through the radio's speaker. The sound was warm and inviting, and the radio dial glowed a rich amber color.

Marc smiled and stepped toward me, pulling me into a gentle hug that grew just a little tighter. I responded in kind, happy---so happy---to be in his arms again. We fit perfectly together for hugs. He nestled his face in the crook of my neck, and I did the same with mine in his. I inhaled deeply, smelling again his shower soap or whatever, his subtle evening musk, and something that surprised me----and not unpleasantly.

"Marc----oh, yeah. Gimme."

"Hey, Jeff. My pleasure. Now I've had three of your hugs, and I think I can say scientifically, indeed: yours are the best I've ever had."

"Me, too, you. Um, can I ask.....are you the pipe smoker, or is Mr Taylor?"

"That'd be Mrs Taylor, actually."

"Oh....."

"HA! No, it's me."

"Pipe Tobacco Aroma on a man is just another description of `Home' for me.....you're.....exactly, right now, the way a man should smell."

"Oh? You like?"

"Hug me, Marc; until I smell like you."

He smiled and moved one of his hands from my shoulder up to the back of my head, holding me in place for an extra-nice hug. I wanted to melt into him. Three days' knowing each other, and Marc Taylor was both Old and New to me, all at the same time. And yeah, I am greedy.....

"So, Professor.....is it still Early Thursday?"

"It is. My, how far you've come in your ability to tell Time. Would you like to give the class a demonstration in your other Thursday skills?"

"Oh, yeah.....I'm definitely `Hot For Teacher'!"

We pulled our faces from each other's necks and looked right into the eyes in front of ours. Marc smiled, and I'm sure my expression was much more feral than that. Farm Boy', not Altar Boy', remember? Whadja expect?

The movement toward the kiss was slow and deliberate. We reached the Point Of No Return, though, the moment I got in my truck at the farm. He might have research to share with me, but I had one of a couple bodily fluids I wanted to share with him. We'll start with the kiss, though.....the other one can happen, if I'm lucky and the school board makes their best decision ever, another time----and soon. Am I digressing? I'm digressing.....sorry.

The kiss.

That kiss.....an entire day could be spent describing everything I felt when Marc was holding me, and me holding him, and the kiss we shared. It was more than I ever thought this kind of physical intimacy could be like. I wasn't having an out of body' experience; but it was definitely out of mind', and I was almost certain I didn't care to go back in.

I moved my hands down Marc's back, slowly and deliberately feeling him along the way. His back was so nice and strong. His triceps were there, solid and barely encased in the polo shirt he wore. By the time I got to his hips, I was.....well, I don't guess I need to tell you, but yeah, I was'. And very'. Almost painfully.

I told you I've been with guys before, but those were furtive experiences that weren't worth the time to tell about them, and the guys beneath comparison with Marc. They were exercise. Just sprints'. Here was a man I thought I could easily, endlessly marathon with. I almost----almost----feel guilty, like I'm betraying Marc, by telling you about this. Somehow, though, I think he's probably telling someone about me. I hope so. I hope I warranted some, as Madeline Kahn said in Young Frankenstein', `boast and brag'-time.

Back, though, to Marc.....and Marc's backside. The perfect half circle, clad in faded indigo denim jeans that would be criminal if anyone else dared to wear them in public. I can't really gild the lily here; that Summer, Marc was physically what I find most appealing in a man. Intellectually, I thought I was probably punching above my weight class. I knew we could talk; we'd done a lot of that over the past three days. But let's say he got the job and stayed in Lewistown; and let's say I studied remotely while running the farm with Anders and Mom. Those both just bring our history to the present. We plant crops for future harvest. Could Marc and I maybe plant and grow a future together?

I'm not insecure my nature, but we all have that something' we're just not entirely sure of. Maybe because I'd never known anyone like him before, but Marc was an exotic, other-worldly creature I met by sheer chance while we were both out at a time and a place we had no real business being. He had twelve years on me, and he lived in one of the most historic and prestigious ZIP codes on the planet. Right then was not the first time the thought had crossed my mind in our brief 80 hours of association: was I enough for Marc Taylor? Would I ever be? Was I resigning myself to just being exercise for him? Did Marc even want to run a marathon, let alone with a hick kid in rural Fergus County? And right there was my that something'.

Before I could further distract myself from an incredible moment, Marc's hands found my own ass, and he was not shy about it, either. Not aggressive, and certainly not some limp fish touch, either. Just assertive, and I thought, how it feels to be claimed'. Considering I'd just let my insecurity dominate my mind for a moment, this was a nice snap back to the reality I found myself in. Long-lasting or just this moment', I was enjoying a touch, an embrace, a kiss that I'd never experienced before. I was Robert Conway after three days in Shangri-La. I would be smarter than Conway, though; I would never leave this utopia.

"Jeff.....come up for air, Jeff....!"

"Awww, do I hafta?"

"I can't share with you the other research I did if we don't unlock our lips for a moment. And I'm fairly certain you'd like to hear this....."

"You've yet to tell me one thing that turned out to be another, so yeah; but this is only a temporary interruption, I'll have you know."

"You'll get no argument from me. Now. Can I get you something to drink?"

"Hmmm.....well, if you don't think she'd mind, could I have a 7-Up and some ice, please?"

"Grammy told you: she always has 7-Up. On ice. Coming up."

I followed Marc out of the den and into the kitchen. The Oldies (REALLY Oldies. 30s and 40s Big Band and Standards) music sounded even better out there, the sound reflecting off the natural wood walls. I thought the Taylors must've really liked living in this house and would be at least a little sorry to leave it. Once we both had our drinks, we returned to the den. Marc grabbed his iPad and we sat on the love seat together. He unlocked it and pulled up the Brave browser and the website he had been looking at. He moved the tablet between us so we could both see the screen.

It was the Montana State University website, and specifically, the tab for programs, majors and disciplines at (as we UM fans liked to call it) `The Udder University', playing on its agro studies there.

"Yeah, there's my brother's course! I wonder if they'll find his replacement by the time the term begins."

"Is he seriously resigning his position there?"

"He is, Marc. Part of it is a longer story for another time, but for now, I can tell you he's disillusioned by the lack of interest in his particular class. I kind of understand; many of his students are kids from farms like ours. They already know most of the science of how growing grasses and grains works. Or, they're just bored. Regardless, there's no energy in the classroom. Also, this is his opportunity to do what he really wants----to farm. Just like me."

"THIS is his opportunity? Hasn't he always had that, just like you?"

"And this is where it becomes a story for another time. Just go with me when I say `this is his opportunity'. I'll explain the rest later."

"Okay, Jeff. Well, really, what I want to show you is truly all about you', anyway. So, I did some research on MSU's distance learning programs and degrees, and I found this within the agro field: Bachelor of Science in Agriculture and Food Business Management'. Is that maybe even MORE you?"

I stared at the screen and then at Marc. I reached for his face with my hands and pulled him into another kiss. Not too long, not too passionate, but plenty grateful. Yet another possibility I had not considered. And curiously, not one Anders had mentioned to me. That last part wasn't the important one, though; here we were now, Marc and I, in discussion of my future, just as we'd been earlier in discussion of his.

Suddenly this presented a number of possibilities, but one thing caught my mind right away: my scholarship, the full ride, was specific to the University of Montana. I was awarded that prize from the school of business there. There would be no tuition-covering scholarship at MSU. So, a minor consideration. My other two scholarships are discretionary, but related entirely to campus living.

I was getting ahead of myself in a race I was suddenly wanting join and win. I needed to pace myself, clearly. There was a lot more I wanted to read and know. That would happen. But the evening was winding down for me, and I had to be up early to prepare for Dad's funeral. Before we went into town Wednesday, I wanted to cut and bale about 80 pounds of alfalfa for Dad's grave, and go out into the small pasture and get some cow and horse manure. So, I think another 20 minutes or so with Marc, and I'd have to ride back to the farm.

It was probably a good idea for me not to hear more right now, anyway; I wanted to get some sleep, and that never happens when three events take place in my life: 1. The circus coming to town; 2. Traveling someplace by plane; 3. There's an interruption in something I'm enjoying, and I can't resume until the following day. Like a round of `Monopoly'. This evening fell into category three, but I needed to fall into bed and sleep. Now is better than later to table the conversation, maybe until Saturday when Marc and I would talk about his meeting with Mr B.

"Marc, thanks for finding that. All of it; what's at Montana and what's at Montana State. Heck, even University of Great Falls. I have options, and don't have to leave the farm to get them. This is really good news, Marc. Thank you."

I stood slightly and then swung my left leg over both his, so my legs straddled him and we faced each other. I put my arms around his neck and smiled as radiantly as I felt inside. I tipped my head forward until our foreheads met. That itself is a nice, intimate gesture. Again, I got Marc's scent in my nose. Marc smiled at me and seemed like he wanted to say something. And then, he did.

"Babe, you and I are poised to make monumental changes in our futures' direction. I was given good news earlier today, and I'm sharing more with you this evening. All of today seems to have conspired to present us opportunities that can exist right here in Fergus County, that'll not only benefit our careers, but give US a chance to be with each other more. Jeff, I want that. I want you. To at least get to know more, meet your family, meet your horse, of course.....and see for ourselves what's possible for two men with the singular attractions we have for each other."

"Wow, Marc.....It's gonna be steadily on my mind after a few days. This is like having my cake and eating it, too. This kind of thing just doesn't happen.....at least, not often, and definitely not to me. Marc, if this can work-----regardless of which school-----there'll be no reason to discuss selling the farm anymore. It'll be a moot point, and one I would be all too happy to get out of my mom's mind. Oh, Marc.....thank you. I'm gonna go back, but before we go.....I want to stand up, get in each other's embrace and do some more of that lip-bruisin' kissin'."

"I'd prefer to end any evening with you in no other way. Well, at least for NOW.....eventually, we might expand our horizons in evening-ending."

We stood, fronts of our bodies touching as much as possible, arms around each other, heads slightly tilted to make room for noses, and back we went to some deep, passionate kissing. And again, I moved my hands to Marc's ass, held it firmly and pulled it forward, pressing tightly against me. He did the same. I could think of worse things happening, and it was now dark enough outside that no one would see Paco stretching and straining out of my Levis.

We finally disciplined ourselves enough to reduce the kisses' intensity to the point that we could part and smile at each other, instead. Marc has really lovely eyes. He has lovely everything. Before we left the den, I stopped and turned to lovely him.

"Marc, um, I want to be really forward here and ask for something that will seem juvenile....."

"Well, this oughtta be good.....go for it."

"Trade shirts with me?"

"Trade shirts with you? Really? I'm pretty sure I can't really fit into your shirt! I don't think I'd look very good in it, either."

"Oh, this is less about that than it is about me in your shirt, with has allll sorts of manscent on it. I didn't think mine would do much for you, really."

"If that's what you want, Jeff; that's what you get."

Marc stepped back from our close proximity and peeled his shirt off his body. Oh, damn. It's like I was getting a personal strip tease from the hottest guy on the planet. Slow and deliberate. First the fur on his abs, then on his chest.....up over his beard..... His arms were still above his head. I asked him to stop moving for a moment.

I moved my face right up to his chest and nuzzled my nose in the deep, dense fur there. It was soft and nice. The scent was there, too. Then I moved my nose over to the fur on his armpit. I didn't get my face too close. I wanted to get the `full bouquet', as sommeliers say. He had no body odor; just a slight musk, very slight, and residual scent of whatever soap he'd showered it. I stepped a little closer still and rested the side of my face on his chest. I moved my hands to his back and pulled him forward just a little. I wanted to sleep the rest of my life on Marc's incredible chest. Sigh.....

After a few moments, I lifted my head and Marc dropped his arms, then folded up his shirt and handed it to me. I handed him mine, but he politely accepted it with a smile.

"I really can't fit into this, and it'd be rude to stretch it out. I just might, however, enjoy your scent on it. Still an even trade; you wanted my shirt, and I wanted you to have it."

"Thanks, Marc. For as long as I have this shirt, I will never wash it. I know that sounds like something right out of `Seventeen' magazine.....but I really made that one up."

I pulled my shirt off and handed it to Marc, and slid my body into his. Intoxicating.....

"HAHAHAHA! Well, look at that; it looks better on you than it did on me."

I laughed and walked my glass to the kitchen sink. Mark added his to mine. We wandered out to my truck. The streetlights were now on and there was no more sun in the sky. Night time was here, and I needed to traverse it so I could sleep soundly and rise refreshed and ready for the day ahead Mom, Anders and I would spend honoring Dad.

I opened my truck door, and Marc joined me in the wedge-shaped void between the door and cab. We stood close. I leaned forward, only to put my forehead on his and thank him for the good news he shared this evening. It was truly great news; I had options that would allow me to farm and learn better ways to farm. I pulled my forehead off of Marc's, and placed a hand on his chest.

"Thanks, Marc; primarily it was good to see you this evening. Secondarily, it was good to get the news you wanted to share. Tertiarily, I got the best hug and kiss of my entire life. Thank you for all of that. I will sleep a deeply, happy man tonight."

"I will, as well. I will look for you tomorrow at the funeral. I might see you, but you might not see me. There'll be a lot of people there. Have a safe trip back to the farm. Please text me when you get there, Jeff."

"I will. Marc, thanks for a perfect, shorter evening. Sincerely."

"We shared it, Jeff. That's why it was perfect. Maybe if everything in the Universe aligns just right, we'll have endless perfect, longer evenings. We can help the Universe along by wanting that, you know."

"I'm all for helping the Universe. Okay, I'm off. I will text when I'm back. Please thank your grandparents for me; I like coming to their house, and I like how you rigged that old radio to play old-music playlists. Only thing missing are the old commercials."

Marc stepped back so I could climb in and close the truck door. We smiled at each other still, and I drove forward, back for the edge of town. No honking at night, but I waved and flashed my brake lights. Perfect little trip to town.

I played some Spotify in my own truck, but not oldies. I wanted romantic stuff. Linda Ronstadt's "For Sentimental Reasons" album would work perfectly, and did. Eva and Kim were still at the Common Grounds coffee shack. I honked and waved, then turned onto the road that would take me home. The lights were off in the kitchen, and walking past Mom's room, I could see no light on. I hoped she was sleeping peacefully.

Upstairs, I stopped at my room. I didn't turn on the light on the ceiling; too bright. The little, weaker light on my desk was perfect. I looked at the bed. Lola Cola was still asleep on it, and snoring just a little. I'm happy Anders let her stay there. It's a big bed, so a big teenager and a big dog would co-occupy it comfortably.

I walked down to Anders' room. The light was still on. I knocked on the door. He welcomed me in.

"Well, that was fast; then again, you're only seventeen; you can still do it 14 times in a row in one night."

"You're meaning buttering toast, right?"

"Ohhh.....is that what teenagers are calling it these days? Sure. Let's go with that, since we don't know if mom has bugged the room and is listening to our illicit conversation. But really; you had a nice evening?"

"We did. Marc told me about some research he'd done about distance learning within my major at Montana. And my scholarship would still apply for tuition and fees."

"Oh-HO! Was he really....hmmm. Maybe that'll relieve some stress you're feeling about having to choose the farm or college; you can do both."

"Yes, that seems like it's a possibility......"

"Can I tell you something I dug around and found online?"

"Sure! Someone selling a one-year old seeder at a ten-year-old price?"

"Ah, THERE'S a fantasy. No, it's also distance learning, but from MSU. You can get a bachelor's degree in "Agricultural and Food Business". I didn't read too much about the specific courses, but this is definitely worth looking into, Jeff."

"I'll be danged---my brother and my potential boyfriend were on the same website tonight, and both giving me the same good news. This is unreal! Truly, Anders; this is perfect news. After Wednesday, I'm going to be deep into both websites to find out what I can; and if necessary, get on the phone with the schools and get information from the registrars' offices. And YOU'RE a resource, too; you know what's involved in that curriculum. I hope I can ask you questions about it, too."

"Of course, Jeff. You want to be here. I want to be here. We both want you to get a college education. Maybe it's a win-win if the college comes to you, Little Brother."

"Maybe I can get a win-win-win, too.....time will tell, Anders."

"What's the other win....? Oh, wait.....never mind. I already know what the other `win' is. You're like the poor guy who goes into the Paris restaurant wanting a hamburger, but seeing a three-course meal on the menu."

"I'll go for that, Anders. And right now, I'll go for some sleep."

"I'll come get Lola Cola."

"Please don't feel she's in my way. My bed is bigger than yours, and she's already sleeping on it."

"Okay, but I don't want to run the risk of her liking you more than me. I still have to buy her food and take her to the vet. I'm no cuckold."

"HA! G'night, Anders. Sleep in if you want. I'll do the chores, and then go cut and bale some alfalfa and collect cow and horse poop for Dad's grave."

"Nah, not fair. We worked together on the grave. Let's work together on dressing it with compost, too. Wait a minute.....wait just a daggonned minute. That is not the shirt you were wearing when you tore out of here, fueled by teenage hormones. Holy fuck. My little brother already got a Boyfriend Shirt. Nice work, Kiddo!"

"GROAN! Don't you have some sleep to get or something?!"

"I do! Not sure what YOU'LL do, considering you `got something' else already......"

"I won't tell you everything, Big Brother, but let's just say I have very little energy left to `get anything' else but sleep. HA! So there!"

We both laughed, I turned red, and I leaned down to kiss Anders' forehead, something we'd always done. It was perfect having a brother I could be close with again. before I left his room, Anders told me he had let Lola Cola outside. She went back to my room (big bed, remember?) and fell right to sleep.

Back in my room, I closed the door behind me quietly so as not to awaken Preggy Mommy. Success! I undressed, except for Marc's shirt. I kept that on and crawled into bed. My head on the pillow and the little light off, there was only the yard light still on, casting curtain shadows on the ceiling again. Rye and alfalfa wafted stealthily through the open window. I had all my favorite scents in one room with me. I would sleep well tonight.

Tomorrow I would be the best youngest son that a deceased dad could ask for. I knew tonight I could continue my education and remain farming at the same time, and that the better I got at both, the more the target of `Best Son' would move all over the place. I was fine to move all over the place for that target, but I didn't want to move anywhere, nor from anyone, to achieve my goals and my full potential.

Within hours, a bunch of folks will join us for the funeral Mass. Dad and my grandfathers before him were titans in this county. They helped people with all the resources amassed from state-wide agencies and organizations that will help farmers and ranchers with almost everything-----sometimes even money. Many of our friends and neighbors came by our house for dinner and were presented with all the information we held in a library for anyone who needed it. Some of the beneficiaries of our information-sharing program were able to save their operations because of that. Of course some of them would be there. And others I couldn't even imagine.

For now.....I need to sleep, in this Marc-scented shirt, and with a smile on my face. The shirt from Marc, the smile because of Marc, and the sleep-----because if I don't, I will probably do something really stupid like pass out during the funeral. Dad will come flying out of the fridge and that shroud, right into the church and kick my ass right in front of the entire parish.

And I'd be the first to say I deserved it.