"Harvard Comes To Montana", Chapter Three
By Griz
umgriz@protonmail.com
Thanks for coming back for the third chapter, Guys.
I received emails-----more than I could've imagined------from men reading about Jeff. I'm grateful and pleased that you've begun to read about his upside-down July.
Jeff sure thinks about Marc a lot, even though they just met hours ago. Both of them have challenges with their families, and see how each other reacts to sudden as well as planned changes.
*** 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 ***
Anders and I continued with the afternoon chores. We worked efficiently as a team. Our focus now was getting more hay up into the loft, mucking out the horse's stalls and driving the four-wheelers along the small pasture's fence line, looking for anything needing repairs. After we finished that, we went into the big pasture and drove the cattle back, closer to home. We brought out several salt licks and placed them on their stanchions around the meadow. The Sun was now only about five fingers above the horizon. Anders looked surprisingly less tired than I would've guessed.
"How're you doing, Big Brother?"
"I'm all right. Thinking about stuff. Missing my dog. The neighbors always take good care of her if I'm out of town, but we miss each other. The reunions are nice. Y'know.....I'm gonna change my plans, Jeff. I think I'm going back home now. I'll stay overnight, round up the stuff I need to bring back here, and drive out early in the morning. We should be here by 10AM. Do you have a lot of early-morning chores?"
"Not a lot, no. Feed the chickens, toss down hay for the horses, clean their water troughs and fill them. See if that old barn cat has earned its keep by keeping the mousies' population under control. The busier stuff is in the afternoon. Tomorrow I need to check the crops. The Custom Combine guys will be here in another week and start taking down the barley and alfalfa, then come back through the third week of August to do some wheat and rye. Our work will be moving the rounders by the corral, and for the squares, stacking them. I'm sure you remember all this. We will be busy from dusk til dawn. Mom will likely take over the morning chores, and I know she'll get the meals on the table and send us off with lunches, coffee and water."
"Then I am liking the idea of going to Bozeman tonight and coming back in the morning. We're done for this day, right? Just dinner and rest? You can get the morning chores yourself?"
"Yeah, that's a good idea. We can go over more when you get back, but we should tell Mom your plan so she doesn't over-do it for dinner. What're you going to do about eating?"
"I'll forage in her fridge for left-overs, and if there aren't any, I'll swing by the Dash-Inn on my way out of town. Two Wagon Wheels with the works, tater tots and a large Rum Hot n' Tot will do me just fine for four hours on the road. Anything you need from Bozeman?"
"Nah. Just don't change your mind about coming back here!"
"Nope. This land is in my blood, and my blood is in this land. Remember me trying to cut off my foot when I was your age? I was the virgin sacrifice, and we've had great crop yields ever since."
"Heh.....'Virgin'! Right! You had a rep in the Sixth Grade. Okay, let's get in and cleaned up."
Anders and I did just that, and Mom was frying chicken. I could see the wheels turning in my brother's head, but he didn't waver from his plan. The sooner he returned here tomorrow, the more work we could get done. It's almost like he was back to thinking like an overworked, poor dirt farmer. I was feeling like that was my future, if I chose it. I just didn't see much of a choice, though.
Within that choice were consequences for me, personally. Not about the farm or my family; just me. I'm looking at a future I've always wanted, but now it's thrust on me overnight. Is my personal life going to be a dozen or so Marcs in a row? Men are in one way, I think, like firewood. Seasoned maple burns steadily, predictably, long and comfortably. It'll get you through the day, through the night, through cold Winters. Aspen burns hot and fast, spits and sputters, and is gone too soon.
Marc and I met in probably the most unlikely of circumstances, but in this short period of time, I already feel like I want him to stick around. Can't expect him to, though. Harvard Graduate, and now he works there. After his folks move away, what could compel Marc to find any enduring interest in Fergus County? Marc is young and has a future doing what he loves. I am young and have a future doing what I love. I just want my future to include a man to love. And be loved by. Through the day, the night, Winter and every other minute in a year, a lifetime.
I don't know why I felt this had to be resolved right now when my future will wait another day. Right now, Anders and Mom were discussing his return to the farm tomorrow. They both look so tired. The sounds of their voices sound that way, too.
Mom said she'd fry extra chicken for our lunch tomorrow, and she thanked Anders in a long hug for coming to Billings and then Lewistown. She told him it meant the world to have both of her boys with her today. My brother and I didn't tell her his extended plans for staying here for awhile. She'd be pleased as punch to hear that. Tonight, though; it would be just her and me. I had no desire to "talk shop". We'd have more than enough time to get around to business. I just wanted to be here for my mom, on what was the first-ever night in her life, from birth until that moment, alone. I'd be there, of course; but it's not the same as living her youth with her parents, marrying my father, and then living her adult life onward with him and their children.
While I was getting cleaned up for dinner, having seen Anders off a few minutes earlier, my phone alerted me to a text message. I was hoping it would be Marc and not any of my friends, offering well-intentioned condolences already. Nope, it was Marc.
"Hi, Jeff. Just checking on you....."
"Thanks; making it through the day. Anders and I got a lot of work done. Mom is making her county-famous fried chicken for dinner. After, I'll spend some time with the horses, and then hit the hay. That means `go to sleep' out in these here parts, Marc...."
"Hmmm.....you're not too tired to be a smart-ass, I see. I know what `hit the hay' means. Can we talk instead of text?"
"Sure. Can you call me? I assigned a specific ring tone to you. I'd like to see if it works." Seconds later, Marc's call proved I'd done it right.
"Hey, Marc."
"Hey, Yourself. You sound okay, but really; are you?"
"For the moment. This is going to be all new for awhile. I can't believe you and I met today, then I raced off to Billings, came back, and we're finally going to sit down to dinner in awhile. I suppose this will get worse before it gets better. How're things where you are?"
"Well, it sounds insensitive to tell you things here are great, but to be honest, I don't know why I'm here. I thought I'd be stripping the house of the insides and hauling stuff to the second hand store to donate. I didn't know the second hand buyers would be coming to us. My grandparents already have everything they want to take, packed in boxes and stacked neatly in the garage.
I got another surprise: Grampy is leaving his 1957 Ford pickup. He wants me to sell that, too. It's in mint condition, and it started right up. He had it painted only five years ago, and it has sat in the garage ever since. He says he'll be lucky if he gets back what he paid for the paint job: five hundred dollars."
"I'm glad it's going well, Marc. I probably don't sound to enthusiastic right now, but I am glad for your grandparents. They've been here so long, and are some of the most well-respected Townies in the county. To be candid, though, if they weren't leaving, I don't see how I'd have met you. I'm glad I met you."
"Thanks for that, Jeff. I'm glad we met, too. My grandparents expressed sorrow at your father's death. They said they've known your family since forever, and that my grandma `taught all those boys'. I told them how you and I met, and they both just shook their heads that I'd be out running at four in the morning, and that you'd be sitting by the side of the same road. I didn't tell them about going to the Empire and Lu Barney, though."
"Lu Barney will save you the trouble and tell the entire county about you coming in wearing running gear that covered you about as well as a postage stamp would."
"HA! Yeah, well, I'm sure I've done crazier things in my 29 years."
"You're only 29?"
"I am. I got my PhD and was published three times by 25. The first book launched my freshman year: it's a guide to understanding the importance of learning history for high school students. I'm not a tenured professor, by any means; just associate. I'll need a lot of time in before I'm made full professor and earn a real income."
"Still; all that, and you're not yet 30. Um, Marc.....tomorrow is Monday. I will need to come into town to do some bank stuff, and grab a prescription at the pharmacy. I know I've been all kinds of forward already, but can you and I meet for even just a few minutes? Morning, like 9AM?"
"That sounds good. My work here really is done. Where would you like to meet?"
"Not on Main Street. My father is a name locally, and many people know me by sight; I'm just a younger version of him. I know many will want to offer condolences, and I'm sure they'd be sincere. I just think I'd like to avoid that for awhile. I think I'd start to lose it, to be honest. Soon this is all going to really hit me, and I don't want that to happen in public. Could I come by your grandparents' home?"
"Of course. You'd be welcome to come inside, or I can come out and we can drive somewhere. Jeff, I'm not here to analyze you or anything like it, but I don't want to cause you any problems and be a reason to avoid your current challenge."
"Yeah, actually, I've thought about that. I don't think that's the case, though; I can't avoid the sudden change in my life, and how my future is now very, very unlikely to play out as I have planned for the past five years. No, I still want to meet you, and for your own sake; not because of `all this'. Does that make sense?"
"Perfect sense."
"And Marc.....tomorrow.....I want to hold you, and be held by you. After this week, I might never see you again. I want more of you to take to my memory bank. It doesn't have to mean anything to you; I get that I'm just a hick kid in a little town you'll never see again. You've probably had a few years already of freshmen having deep, hard crushes on you."
"Let's focus on you, okay? It will mean something to me. I'm not an old curmudgeon just quite yet. I can still have a spark of attraction in me, and that ignited early this morning. You're a good-looking stud cowboy, but really; your mind got my attention, right away. You have so much going on up there, and to be honest, that made so much go on down there' for me..... Hick kid'? I will think many things about you, Jeff; but that will not be one of them. But, yeah; tomorrow will be all about just holding on for awhile."
"Thanks. Really, thanks. I wish you were here right now. I could get some `holding on', and you could get the best fried chicken you'll ever eat."
"Give me a call or send a text if your schedule changes tomorrow. Until then, please accept a virtual hug from The Visiting Townie. You're as brave and as strong as you are intelligent and beautiful, Jeff. You're the total package, as I've already told you. If you were missing even one of those, well, I don't think you'd be the man you are, and will be. See you tomorrow."
"See you tomorrow, Marc."
The call ended, and as I was putting my phone back in my pocket, I looked down to see one hell of a wet spot on the crotch of my Levis. My dick was so hard, I couldn't easily move it around in there. Of all the inconvenient times! Fortunately the laundry is in the basement of the house, and I know I have some clean sweats I can change into, and leave the disgraced and defiled jeans to be washed. There's no denying it now: I am officially crushing on Associate Professor Marc Taylor. Of Harvard, no less.
Dinner started quietly, but Mom felt more like talking after I ate almost an entire chicken, myself. Fortunately she fried three.
"Jeff. You got me through this day, you and Anders both, but I know you're grieving just as hard as I am. This will be our life for awhile, I think. I can't avoid the rest of my life, or the people who knew and loved your dad."
"I believe you're right, Mom. Maybe one more day `off' for you, though......I'm already planning on driving into town at 9:00 tomorrow to get your prescription and move some money around in my school account and my checking account. I can do both of those through the drive-thrus, so I can maybe spend an hour in town instead of seven, with everyone wanting to talk about Dad. They all mean well.
I mentioned earlier today to a friend that if I'm surrounded by well-intentioned people right now, I'll burst and not be able to stop crying. That'll have to wait, at least until after the funeral. Preferably out here, with only you, Anders and the horses to witness me devolve into the primordial ooze from whence we came, right out of the frog pond out yonder."
"Oh, my god, Jeff.....you can be funny at just the right moment, and this was it. I'll take you up on your offer to go into town. Thank you. We're well-stocked for groceries for awhile. I know it sounds like I'm preparing for the apocalypse. So dramatic, but you get what I mean. You know, Jeff.....if you want to spend time alone, meaning away from here, see your friends, I'm sure Anders and I can handle things."
"Nah, he's forgotten everything. I told him today when we were herding cattle that it was so windy here last week, I saw one of the chickens lay the same egg three times. He just looked at me like he didn't know if I was serious."
"HAHAHAHA!!! Your father's sense of humor lives on in you! I'm so glad for that, Jeff!"
"I know I'll start getting calls from my friends. I'm ready for them. Many of them are working the fields like I am, and probably haven't heard yet. The moment Rand Tuss Junior learns, my entire class will be calling. He's like the worst Soviet spy, ever; he can't keep anything to himself."
"HAHAHAHA!!! Just like his mother and grandmother! He comes by it naturally and honestly!"
"Mom, you know his mother and grandmother are going to round up the Grange Women and put on a feast after Dad's buried. How many times have you been one of the troops? Probably countless times. Like you said earlier, now it's your turn. Will that overwhelm you? Should I pick up a big bottle of Valium for you, too?"
"So funny......but no, I'll be fine. The Sun rises and sets, and we live our lives around that so we can put food on the planet's tables. The work does not stop because one of us has died. Look in the paper tomorrow, and I bet you'll see at least one baby was born today. The game never changes, never ends, and has no `time-outs'; we just keep rotating players on and off the field, all the time.
Jeff, this is so soon to talk about this, but I want you to know: your dad and I have talked all year about your plans to go to school. We support it entirely, and your entire education is paid for. Even through vet school in Colorado. Please don't let your father's death change your plans."
"You're going to run 50 head of cattle, 3,000 acres of crops, three horses, ten chickens and one old cat all on your own, Mom?"
"No. Later on this week, or maybe next week, you, your brother and I will sit down and I'll open the books. We can review everything. And I want you to keep an open mind about this-----we can sell, and with no problem the right buyer paying the asking price."
"Mom, no! What am I going to school for if there's no farm for me to come back to? You and dad were already talking about selling?!"
"We've talked about it for years. We didn't hate the work; we love this life. We were born for it. But that doesn't need to apply to you. Your brother made his choice, and he's happy teaching kids about some of the science of agriculture. That's invaluable education for them. He's making his contribution to all farmers and ranchers in the state. And with a vet practice, you could live anywhere, and drive your trucks to your clients. Your education, both degrees, would ensure your success, Jeff."
"No! That would be a betrayal of everyone in the family who've lived and worked this land. My own plans, too. I am the sixth generation, and somehow, there'll be a seventh. Check the cabbage patch later in September..... This isn't something to talk about now, Mom; not after this incredible dinner, and before we cross a few things off your list. I have my own list going. I'll share mine with you toward the end of the week. For now, though: this farm is not for sale. Okay? Do you promise, Mom?"
"I promise, Jeff. Just one more thing about this, though...." I sighed heavily and gave her an exasperated look on my face.
"Your reaction is exactly what we knew it would be. You have not only your father's face and build, as well as his sense of humor; but you also have his commitment to responsibilities and the Bigger Picture. That can't be learned; we're born with that, a blessing and a curse at the same time. Too soft in the heart and too hard in the head. But fine; we'll talk later."
I just nodded, glad to move on from that ridiculous notion I would not want to live and work here.
"Thanks, Honey. Oh, you might not go for this, but it's important to me. I want to take my canned fruits and vegetables in and enter them in the judging contests at the fair. Tuesday. If I don't show up again this year, the real drama will start, and Eugenia Bailey will decide I'm not strong enough anymore. That won't happen. I'm extra proud of the pickles this year, particularly."
"Oh, I already knew you'd be adamant about that, Mom. I'll take care of entering Dad's grains, and I'm taking Sebastian in bright and early Thursday morning. 6AM. Looks like Eugenia will have to focus on someone or something else. You're still fierce, Mom; you have this, in spades."
"Damned right, I do! WE do!"
"I'll help you get cleaned up here, and then I'm gonna soak in the jacuzzi for awhile before bed. I was so tense while driving today, and I'll sleep like crap if I don't relax this carcass."
"Thanks for the help. It'll go fast. If you'll get the dishes in the dishwasher, I'll pack lunches for you boys tomorrow. It'll be leftovers, but cold fried chicken is a very close second to fresh and hot. I'll get in some fresh fruit, coffee and cokes, and some rhubarb bread I baked yesterday. New recipe. You boys will be my guinea pigs."
"HA! You don't have to convince us. The orange-cranberry bread this time last year was fantastic. I'll leave early tomorrow so I can get in and out of the fairgrounds first."
"Umm, Jeff, I want to make a slight alteration to your morning plans. I want to go with you. Drop me off at Jerry's. I know I can't be right with your dad, but I can sit in the chapel where it's so quiet, close to him. Pick me up in awhile, after you've gone to the bank and drug store. 30 minutes or so. Then let's take out our entries to the fairground. Most everyone waits to do that on Tuesday."
"Sure; that'll work. I didn't tell you about how my morning started today, Mom. Definitely unusual....."
"I saw your truck was gone when I was helping your dad to mine. I tried calling you, but I heard your phone ring up in your room. Were you out with the cattle?"
"No, I was awake really early. Before 4. I couldn't fall back asleep. Got up, did my chores, and just went for a drive. I passed through Eva's stand, then drove through town. Only person I saw was Duke in the Eagles' Club. I drove out past the fairgrounds, to where Tess Potter lived. It was a warm morning and a nice breeze was blowing. I knew in a few months I wouldn't have this opportunity again, since the new highway would be in and the whole scenery would change."
"You're the nostalgic one of the boys. You appreciate history, Honey. Your dad and grandparents loved that you knew the history of this place, and I loved that you knew my family's story, too. I get you are invested emotionally in this farm, Jeff. So you just stayed out on the loneliest stretch of road in the county?"
"Not for long; I was there maybe ten minutes and then I heard some strange sound, like an animal approaching."
"Oh, god.....did you have your gun with you?"
"Always have it with me. The Moon was full, though. I could see it was someone running. Couldn't believe it. The runner got up to my truck and stopped to get his breath. Weirdest thing, really. We talked for a few minutes. Turns out he's the Taylors' grandson from Massachusetts. He was up early, too. Decided to go for a run and not disturb his grandparents."
"Going running on a dark highway? Obviously a tourist."
"Yeah, we had that conversation. I told him about owls and critters with extreme body odor and spikey parts, so he rode back to town with me. I suggested we stop at the Empire, since he'd only ever been here as a baby."
"That was nice of you. `Fresh Meat' in town, though.....I hope Lu Barney had the day off."
"Oh, no; we weren't that lucky. She took one look at him and tied a bib around her neck. She left us alone after the plates arrived. We hung out for a few minutes. Business started to pick up, so I took him back to the Taylors' house. Oh, he's Marc Taylor. He's a history professor at Harvard University, and only 29 years old."
"So two young history brainiacs met and ate the most unhealthy breakfast on the planet. You might've given this Marc the most horrible first impression of the county; salty, fat-laden food and Lu Barney. But I understand now where you were.....when we rushed to town."
"I can't believe I'd leave my phone at the house, like an idiot. Mom, I'm really sorry I wasn't here when Dad had his stroke. I feel awful."
"Honey, don't; you didn't cause the stroke, and the second one would've probably happened whether you'd driven us to town or if I did."
"But I'd have been with you, and Dad was still.....alive when you left. I'd have been with you both at the end of him being conscious. I am just at this very moment realizing that. I'm sorry, Mom....."
"You don't have to be, but I know you are. That's more you'll have to work through, but right now, understand this: you couldn't have changed the outcome of your dad's health failing. You are living the last Summer before going off to college. You were right to go wander and enjoy a nice morning, and rescuing and making a new friend. Really. We are made of stars. We are meant to shine brightly for awhile. Your dad did for almost 60 years. You're shining now. Guilt does nothing for a star. Particularly one who has eaten an entire chicken only an hour ago."
We both laughed. Mom was right, and this would be more for me to deal with. Both my parents' wisdom is part of what made my first 17 years of life so great. Wise, kind, compassionate, funny, idealistic and realistic. And for me at least, if only for me: Dad was my giant. I don't know what happed with Gus or Anders. Might never know.
"I don't remember Marc Taylor.....he was here when he was a baby?"
"That's what he said. His parents moved to Seattle and worked for Boeing. This is his first time back here."
"I remember there was a tragedy of some kind that involved Rod and Naomi's daughter and son-in-law, but I don't remember the details. So is he here to help them move?"
"Yeah, and to sell their house. Apparently almost everything is going to be auctioned off by Bass Brothers, and sell Mr Taylor's old truck."
"Your dad coveted that truck, Jeff.....it was beautiful. Light blue and cream paints, and chrome for acres. Some collector will want that, for sure. I guess no more Taylors in Fergus County. I hope they'll have nice Autumn years in New Mexico."
"Agreed. Marc is a nice guy, and interesting. He published three books before he was 25. I doubt his classes are easy."
"They'd be easy for you, Kiddo. I think you'll wow `em at Montana just as much as you did in high school. Then in Vet School. I dare anyone to get in YOUR way."
"Mom....."
"I'm just saying! At this very moment, don't give up on the plans you've made during the past one-third of your entire life thus far. You know, I think you should look up Young Marc Taylor before he leaves town, and talk with him. If he's anything like his grandparents, he's a thoughtful person who understands where Education can take someone. And that's all I'll say on the subject."
"Thank you, Mom."
"For tonight......"
"MOTHER!!!"
We laughed and worked another 20 minutes in the kitchen, and it looks spotless again. I felt the conversation during and after dinner was productive. I made my point: no rushing into selling the farm. If the farm sells, I have no reason to study what I wanted, and I could think of nothing else I'd want to do with my life. Looking at this from as many angles as I could think of, I could not conceive how this farm would operate successfully if I weren't here to run it. The hubris of a 17 year old; there's nothing like it. Fortunately.
My soak in the tub was exactly what I needed. Dad and I would soak together after a long day. It's where I got more schoolin' of the farm than anywhere else. I didn't want to be in here to long. Made the mistake of that once, and was so relaxed I couldn't get out. Dad came along at the right time and just laughed at me, pulling me out, barely able to stand. I was thinking now how much I'd like Marc to be in here with me. Not everything needs to be sexual; I just was thinkin' a hot tub can still be intimate without any exchange of protein-rich bodily fluids. Along with everything else, I just like looking at Marc Taylor.
I decided to send him a text to say good night.
"Hi, Marc; are you snoring yet?"
"Who told you I snore? And the obvious answer to your question is, NO!"
"Read it in the Harvard Crimson. That's a student newspaper on par with the New York Times."
"On the subject of my alleged snoring, it's more in league with `The Enquirer'. Still eating?"
"I'm in the hot tub, relaxing my cramping muscles after the drives today. Feels good. I'm in this one all the time."
"I haven't soaked in years, actually. I don't trust the spas in Cambridge to be cleaned properly and regularly. I don't really want all this fur to fall out, due to the wrong chemicals being used in the tub."
"I wouldn't want all your fur to fall out, either. It does something for you. And it does something to me."
"Do you clean your hot tub regularly?"
"It's one of my chores, executed weekly. Flushed and filled once a month. The only thing that grows in this jacuzzi is a certain dick when it thinks about a certain newly-acquainted visitor to our fair and humble county. In fact, it's growing so much right now, I'm about to be crowded out of the tub."
"Okay, John Holmes!"
"Who?"
"Oh, dear.....I see we're going to have to park your ass down for a remedial course in vintage and classic adult all-male porn."
"I know who John Holmes was. Just playin'. My favorites from that era were Al Parker and Bob Blount, particularly together. That's how it's done!"
"I see I have nothing to teach you, after all....."
"Oh, I know that's not true.....but you won't need to use porn for instruction. Unless you want to make some with me; we could set the scene with the college professor and the slacker freshman who will do anything---ANYTHING---to get a passing grade so he can still play football."
"Yeah, `cause THAT'S never been done in porn before. Not fewer than 15 or 20 times, anyway. I'm not sure I'd want to share you with anyone, even on the other side of the monitor screen. I'm thinking of no cameras, and maybe few lights in the form of candles. You know, romantic-like. Call your agent and make sure you're available."
"I'll do that. Marc, I'm going in, and then up to bed. I know I'm going to crash tonight, but I'll be energetic tomorrow when we meet."
"Me, too. I'm on an inflatable bed that is deceptively comfortable. I slept so well last night, even though I was jet-lagging. And you remember how to get here?"
"Yeah.....6th Avenue North and Ohio Street."
"Right you are. Text me or call when you arrive, and we can discuss then if you want to come inside or drive somewhere else. Whatever you're comfortable with."
"I'm comfortable with a hottie brainiac holding me, and letting me hold him. I'm being greedy here; you're the most stable person in my life right now, and I need to feed on your stability. In the process, I might get some of your manscent on me and my hands go off searching for tight and well-formed glutai-maxima. Nothing that would get us arrested, I promise."
"I'll choose once again to trust you. The ride back to town was without incident, so you're currently one for one. Time will tell if you get a two for two. I'll wish you success in that endeavor, Jeff. Wait.....you speak Latin?"
"Heh.....nope. Not formally. My maternal great-grandfather was a pharmacist in town. I used to ask him about all the drug names on the bottles, so he'd tell me the translation, and the basics of how Latin works. Very basic stuff for a very basic kid. Until tomorrow, then. Unless you feel like sending me another text to say good-night....."
"Is that a hypothesis, or are you channeling my mother and being evilly passive-aggressive?"
"Marc, just fuckin' text me that you're in bed, naked, smiling and saying gooey stuff like, `I wish you were here, messing up these sheets with me'. Total chick flick stuff. So. You gonna?"
"It appears that is the expectation, and far being it from me to disappoint. I'm pleased to say you will receive a text from me, within the hour."
"Thanks, Marc. I'm not really a difficult guy."
"That's good."
".....Yet."
"Until later, Jeff....."
"Not too much later, Marc."
I slid the red button on my phone and set it down on the little table by the hot tub. My fingers were wrinkled enough, and I was actually feeling like I might sleep. I stood, got out, and secured the cover to the hot tub, slipped into my shoes and wrapped the towel around me. I heard the barn owl hoot, which I took as her telling her boyfriend the barn cat that she was back for the evening. They seemed to be just fine with each other's predatory nature, and neither was starving.
I saw I'd missed a text from my brother, letting me know he was packing a few boxes of stuff to bring with him. His dog, Lola Cola, was a three-year-old Swiss Bernese Mountain Dog. They're working dogs, that breed; I suspected she'd be happy to be outdoors with us. I don't know if she'd have a herding instinct, but regardless, 50 head of cattle don't present much of a challenge.
Inside, I locked the front door and made my way to the stairs. I passed my parents' bedroom and could see from the sliver of space beneath the door that the light wasn't on in there. I could hear Mom crying softly. Her first night without Dad, but in their bed. I felt awful for her. I supposed she would get through the grief, or at least most of it. Feeling better eventually would not be a betrayal of Dad or his memory.
Once in my own room at the top of the stairs, I looked out the window and saw four or five deer in the yard, just grazing on the grass I'd cut in a few days. I didn't mind, although if they chose to do me a favor and level the lawn tonight, I would be most grateful. I smiled at the thought just as my phone beeped the Marc text ringtone.
"Marc Taylor, meeting and exceeding communication expectations, SIR."
"Goof."
"I've no argument for that. Is your day winding down? Do you think you'll get some rest tonight?"
"It's going okay, thanks. I just got up to my room. The house is so quiet, which it always is; I'm just more aware now that our evenings and nights will be quieter still. And so it goes, and so it goes. I told my mom I met you this morning. She said she knew your grandparents were moving away. May I ask you: did something bad happen to your parents? My mom said she remembered something, but only in general. I'm sorry if I'm being invasive; you don't have to answer that, Marc."
"It's all right. Yes, though. They were in their cabin in the Cascade Mountains about five years go when a snow avalanche buried them. They didn't have one of the alert devices recommended by the US Forest Service, specifically for situations like that. With no neighbors anywhere near them, no one knew to go rescue. My parents and I are not---were not---close and hadn't been for years. My grandparents and I were not even aware for two weeks that they were missing."
"Oh.....I'm sorry. That's tragic, Marc."
"It was for my grandparents and even me, though by then we didn't speak. I hope they didn't suffer. I'm an only child of only children. Mine is a naturally narcissistic family."
"I doubt that's true. You don't strike me that way."
"Nah, I'm not. I got much closer to my grandparents years ago. They are much more.....accepting of me than my parents were. I felt closer to Grammy and Grampy since I was a little kid. For whatever reason, we never came here to visit them when I was growing up. They always came to us. My father hated living here. I honestly don't know why."
"That seems to be about how it goes for kids here; they love it or hate it. Those who stay never leave, and those who leave never return. There's no `lukewarm' in Lewistown, Fergus County, Montana. My mom wants to come into town with me tomorrow. She wants to go to the funeral home and spend time near Dad while I go do my town chores and see you. She actually suggested I talk with you and get your wise counsel, convincing me to stay with my plans for college and beyond."
"Why would you need me to convince you of that? It's what you want, right?"
"Well, until this morning, yes; more than anything. It's a longer story than my thumbs have the energy for tonight. I'll tell you tomorrow. Marc, I think all of me is running out of energy."
"Of course; I can't imagine the fatigue you're really feeling. Sleep. We'll see each other tomorrow. Give me a text or call when you're in town. We can talk as long as you want."
"I want. Thank you. Sleep well on your big marshmallow."
"I'm loving this thing! Better than my bed back home! Anyway, I hope you'll sleep well, too. Good night, Handsome Brainy Cowboy."
"G'night, Hottie Hyper-smart Professor."
"Sheesh....."
"Right back at ya."
I was too tired to release, and I had plenty of mental images of Marc to inspire me, too. I suppose it's probably wrong on a spiritual level to jack off the same day your dad dies. I wondered, too, if communication with a complete stranger today was simply me being attracted him, or if it has been to keep my mind cleared of only grief.
Kids have been cheated by this language. Wives are widowed. Husbands are widowers. What about the rest of us? "One Step Away From Orphanhood"? That's a little awkward.
Slept came, followed by peaceful dreams. I nodded off with a smile on my face, despite losing my dad. You're gone too soon, Dad; if only for me. Welcome, Marc; if only for me, only for a little while.