Disclaimer and all that.
If you are under legal age to read male-male romance, Begone, (until you're of age.)
Names, locations, and trademarks are fictitious, or used fictitiously.
Reposting on sites other than Nifty.org is forbidden.
Read a real book now and then. I recently re-read Christopher Isherwood's "A Single Man." "A Single Man" may be the best gay male novel written in English to date. It is still in print, and Amazon has it. Look for it under "Christopher Isherwood." Isherwood's "Berlin Stories" were transformed into "Cabaret."
"A Single Man" has memorable characters, and truly excellent writing.
Thank you to all who have sent email, and to those of you who have said "When are they coming back?"
A big thank you to DB-52.
Thanks again-always to Rimpig, George Gardner, Tim Mead, and Mickey S.
Copyright 2005-2006 by Lawrence Prichard.
Tuesday Evening, late February, 8:25 pm.
Denys's turn.
We survived Valentine's Day. It was not pretty, but we did it again. After a successful Valentine's or Mother's day, the four of us, Jerome, Maria, Bobby, and I just look at each other at the same time, and break into idiotic grins of relief and astonishment. We've worked as a team so well for over two years, we still feel like we're getting away with something.
Jerome and Bobby were out making deliveries from 7 am to 10 pm, and Maria and I were holding our own at the shop.
We give Maria and Bobby the day off on the 15th, they seem to appreciate that.
Jerome had no cute stories. Bobby received two proposals of marriage, one from an older woman, and one from a man. He politely declined them both.
Bobby told us that one of the petitioners was "too butch," and the other one "too tall."
It was rough without Jerome when he was in Chicago, but we survived.
Aunt Bess is home now, and may have changed a little. Jerome saw her make a physical therapist cry, and he went off on his aunt.
Physical therapists, and physical therapy aides are tough, smart, strong people who help make miracles happen on a daily basis, and when Bess made the therapist cry, Jerome laid in on his aunt.
In other news of wonder and surprise, Bess later told Jerome that she could see that I was good for him, that he hadn't looked so happy before.
Ethyl, Bess's housekeeper-cook was astonished by this. Ethyl and I are friends, and we talk on the phone to each other once or twice a week. Ethyl reminds me of Mrs. Jessionowski, who was my mother's cook-housekeeper, and I remind Ethyl of her oldest son, Elliot, who died in a gay bashing a number of years ago.
Our friendship, Ethyl's and mine started a few years back from the last time I was in Chicago, the first time I met Aunt Bess.
Bess liked Jerome's ex, Tony, and was disinclined to welcome any successor.
As Jerome said, Bess and I have some similarities, we are readers, cooks, and devoted to Jerome, but Bess, for some reason as yet unrevealed, didn't like me from the start, even though I brought her the latest mystery book featuring a woman judge in North Carolina, her police officer fiance, and her rascally father, and a big tin of my brownies.
Ethyl thought Bess's treatment of me was monumentally unfair, so I spent some (all right, a great deal) of time with Ethyl in the kitchen and her retreat room. Ethyl dished me all the dish on Bess, some of Jerome's highlights from high school, and told me her secret to better geraniums.
Ethyl is quite a woman. After Elliot's murder, she became even more of a gay rights activist than she already was, and she is active in P-FLAG. Well read, a great cook, a fan of Judy Collins, Carol King, and Dave Brubeck, and a champion-quality gardener and friend.
Jerome is out right now, getting some dvd's, and who knows what else. I swear, send that boy to Target, and you never know what will leap into his cart.
Wolf gives his standard "two arf" signal, and I go out to the kitchen.
Jerome grabs me into a big hug and a bigger kiss. Even though he's been home for two weeks, I don't mind the extra emphasis in our greetings. At all.
"So, what else did you get?"
There was Purina One canine for Wolf, and Purina One feline for Mr. Smith. He also had another box of dishwasher detergent, and two green plastic tumblers, and a green plastic pitcher.
He got a fairly forgettable bang'em up big budget Hollywood thing and a year of "The Simpsons." I have been known to call him "My Own Krusty," and he has called me "My Sweet Marge." I'm not sure if I like being compared to a woman with hair that exact shade of blue, but Marge Simpson is usually kind, and always loving.
There was also a package of Heath Bars in the bag. Chocolate and toffee is downright irresistible to me, but I am hypersensitive to caffeine, even the relatively small amount in chocolate. I think Jerome might have evil plans to keep me awake tonight.
Evil plans? Wooo-hoo! Bring them onnnnn!
We're two Ursus (not so) horrilibus.
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