Copyright 2001. Disclaimer:
a) The following story is a work of fiction, and the rights of this series belong to its author.
b) If you are breaking one or more of your local laws by reading this, don't read any further! And,
c) I like cats.
Chapter 5. Over the river and through the woods-
Have I mentioned Pugsley? No, well we have a cat. Or rather, he has us. Having grown up on a farm, I can honestly say that few other animals (besides people, of course) display such a wide range of personalities. On the whole, I think he appreciates us, but one can never be sure.
Jase dubbed him "Pugsley" when we took him off the street; he settled right in and took over the upstairs and rooftop. He had his own door within the door opening onto the roof, and served what I thought was an incredibly useful purpose keeping the pigeons away. Now I rarely had to watch where I sat on the swing.
Pugsley yowled at our bedroom door, asking to be fed. The kitchen never had seemed big enough to turn around in, and having his bowls at my feet made maneuvering even trickier. If it was dark, I had to remember not to step in the water bowl, but more often than not came back to bed with a wet foot.
I snuck an arm behind Jase as I curled up against him; tucked together under the covers we fought to preserve those last precious moments of sleep.
When I could no longer stand the begging, I extricated myself and gave Jase a kiss on the cheek
"Someone's hungry."
He slipped one hand between my legs. "Mmm, don't go just yet."
"Hungry or horny, duty calls. I'd better go feed the beast, or Kara will fling him out the window."
I padded away on bare feet hugging my arms to my chest as I went to make someone else's morning. The bedclothes rustled behind me as Jase pulled them up and over his head, leaving one cute little foot sticking out at the bottom.
That afternoon, as customers chatted away both indoors and out, Jesse, Kara and I held down the fort while Jase went to get Chris from school. He was planning on taking him over to Skate Central so Chris could practice with his friends; Jase himself was a natural athlete with an incredible sense of balance and loved showing off to the little guys. As chaperones went, he was pretty cool.
Before leaving, however, he did check with Eric's grandmother to see if it would be ok to stop by. Eric had perked up at lunch when we asked about coming over, and left us in the afternoon with a quick wave and a "see you tonight!" His grandmother was a rare visitor to the cafe, but when she did make it, she was a treat to talk to. She immediately invited us to dinner, and said again how nice it was for us to employ her grandson. He was always talking about us, she said, and she felt like we were an extension of her own family.
That evening, Jase and I took the winding road along the bayfront in my Jetta with the windows down, watching joggers, cyclists, and dog owners pass each other on the sidewalk with friendly nods. Jase spoke up.
"You should have seen me today, I had Chris and his friends in awe by skating on two skateboards at once, one under each foot!"
I smiled, imagining him hamming it up for the kids. "I'm sure you were a sight to behold, especially that last part where you hit the concrete." He grinned ruefully and rubbed his knee.
"Yeah, you should have heard them laugh, Zach--I guess us old guys are funniest when we screw up."
"Old?" I made a show of checking in the mirror for gray hairs. Finding none, I grinned wickedly. "Last I checked, you still hadn't hit puberty."
"Oh yeah?" I heard him fumbling then risked glancing down. The car swerved as I hurriedly looked up again.
"Some people just never grow up," I muttered to no one in general.
Eric's grandmother met us at the door, and invited us to sit down while she talked to us from the kitchen. The smell of fresh bread hit us the moment the door opened, which set our stomachs growling in anticipation.
"Eric's in the shower," she said, "but he'll be right out."
At these words, Eric appeared at the door to the living room smiling tentatively and smoothing his still-wet hair in place. I pantomimed relief at Jase as Eric went across the room to give his grandmother a kiss.
Well, he looked fine, at least; at nineteen, he was slightly built but in a compact way. His muscles didn't jump out at you, but you got the feeling that he could kick your ass if necessary. "Never mess with a small person," my Dad had once said, "size can be deceiving." Jase was always calling Eric scrawny in an affectionate sort of way, but in truth he was just right for his height.
"Zach, Jase-whassup?" He grinned and we broke into our rendition of the now famous routine from the Budweiser commercial. I felt silly, but it was a thing we had started doing at work one day and perfected with time.
His grandmother shook her head as she set the table. "I can only wonder where this country is headed when endless repetition of poor grammar passes for entertainment." She did smile though, as Eric, Jase and I all gave each other high fives.
Dinner was delicious, of course, and we talked over dessert. Jase patted his tummy and winked at me. "If only I could get the missus here to cook as well as you do, Francis." I pretended to look shocked, while Eric's grandmother frowned suspiciously.
"Aren't you feeding him well?" she asked me.
"Ah, as a matter of fact, I have to watch him like a hawk." I replied. "We're surrounded by food all day, I hardly have to make him extra."
"Well," she said brightly, "that's true enough. He doesn't appear to be starving." Jase suddenly looked uncomfortable and sat up straighter to minimize any possible flabbiness. We could all see the ridges of his stomach against the outline of his shirt; a conscientious exerciser, Jase could only be described as "extraordinarily fit."
"So, dudes, now that you're both fat and happy, how about a raise?" Eric smiled sweetly at us.
"Hmm, let's think about this-how about we let you keep your job but only work you twice as hard?" Jase fingered his chin thoughtfully and looked up at the ceiling while I nodded in agreement.
"Nah, that's ok-I'm was just being a smartass." Eric scooted back from the table and got up to clear the dishes. We picked up what we could and went to the kitchen to help, while Eric's grandmother put away the leftovers. Once this was done, we thanked them both again for having us over and made our good-byes.
"Are you going out again tonight, Eric?" his grandmother asked.
His smile wavered slightly, and he responded with a quick "I dunno, maybe."
"Well if you do, be careful sweetheart; your grandma worries about you all the time."
Eric walked us to the car in bare feet and thanked us again for coming over. He leaned in the window past me and cuffed Jase on the thigh in a friendly way. "You guys are ok in my book." His cologne was overpowering, so I stuffed him back out the window in protest.
As we drove off, and he remained standing under the streetlight watching us go, digging a toe into the pavement while keeping both hands stuffed into the pockets of his shorts. I turned at the end of the street and never saw him wipe at the corner of his eye as a tear formed there.