Owen

Owen

Chapter fifty-one

By Roy Reinikainen

"Are you nervous about your folks seeing what you've accomplished?" Sam asked, perching on the corner of one of the large tables where Jonah would soon be planting his so-called, "designer crops." Lucas smiled, and sat on the table, at Sam's side, automatically taking Sam's hand and linking fingers.

"No, not nervous. Of course, I'd like everything to look good, but," he shrugged. "Mother and Father both understand how things are done. We're creating something from scratch, here," he said, looking around the expansive building with pride. It's different than anything m'Father has ever had a part in, but," he grinned, "That makes it exciting . . . for both of us."

He turned to Sam. "Does them being here make you nervous?"

"Some," Sam smiled. "I want them to not only be pleased with what you've done, but be pleased that you've chosen Jonah and me to be part of your team."

"They thought I made excellent choices, when I brought them up to date during one of my phone calls. But even if they hadn't liked the choices, it's not for either of them to question if I've made wise choices in choosing the people with whom I want to work. I am the only one who needs to be pleased. And, I have to tell you that I couldn't be more happy. You and Jonah have done wonders. Now," he grinned, tightening his fingers, "all I have to worry about is someone finding out how talented you guys are, and hiring you away."

Sam chuckled. "No chance of that happening."

Lucas turned to Sam, looking into his eyes. "Y'know. I realized, just a second ago, how seldom I tell you how much I love you." He leaned close and tenderly kissed Sam on the cheek. "I hope you realize I'm the sort of guy who doesn't say that sort of thing all the time. But, even though I haven't told you nearly enough . . . how I feel, I . . . do . . . love you."

He pulled Sam to him for a lengthy kiss.

"The three of us do make a pretty good team, don't we?" Sam murmured, pleased, more than he could say, by Lucas' words.

"I'm sorta like you, I guess," he admitted. "Owen and I never have had to say how much we love one another. It's a given. We've been together long enough that we both understand how the other feels. But, you and I don't have that understanding. He brought Lucas' hand to his lips. "I love you very much, you wonderful man."

Sam sat in silence for a long moment, staring, unseeing, at the empty greenhouse. "I know that, when you invited me into the relationship with you n'Owen, that you weren't . . . sure, you'd done the right thing." He turned to Lucas with a crooked grin. "Yet, because of how much you love Owen, and you knew how much he and I were hurting for one another, you were willing to chance that you might come to love me." When Lucas appeared as if he wanted to speak, Sam held up a finger, asking for the chance to finish his thought.

"I have'ta say that I felt the same way. I accepted your offer to join in the relationship, because I love Owen. I missed havin' him around even more than when he was away at school. That was bad. Havin' him in the came town, yet only seein' him from time-to-time, was awful. I knew how much I admired and liked you, and how much I hoped that liking might grow into love, but . . . I wasn't sure it would happen. Sometimes, there at first, I felt as if I was abusing your good will. Y'know? It was like I was using you or something, to get what I wanted. I felt pretty rotten at times, but Owen, bless his heart, told me not to worry, that you wouldn't have asked me to join you both if you hadn't meant it. He assured me that he did not push you into asking.

"So . . . even though I thought you were 'bout the nicest guy I'd ever met, I hoped the good things I felt about you might turn to love.

"Over the past months, it has. Now . . . you have become as much a part of my life as Owen. So," he grinned. "I not only have to tell you how much I love you, but I also want to thank you, for takin' a chance on me."

"Well?" Owen asked, holding his arms out to his sides, standing before his two friends, naked. "I thought you guys were gonna be nekkid too. You're standin' there with your mouths hanging open, lookin' like I've got the first dick other than your own that you've ever seen. What's the big deal? Speaking of big . . . It certainly isn't my dick," he laughed, looking down at himself and turning his hips from side to side, causing his flaccid penis to sway. He theatrically sighed. "I guess I'll never realize my goal of being a porn star."

"He just wants you to tell him how cute he is," Corey said, to Riley.

Riley stepped out of his underwear and tossed them on top of the pile of clothing destined for the washing machine. "On a scale of one to ten, I'd give his looks a nine or nine point five. Now, his butt, I'd rate as a definite ten!"

"Yeah?" Owen asked, looking over his shoulder to see if it was possible to see what was so great about his butt. "For real?"

"And, his dick," Riley continued. "I think it's perfect. Just like yours, Corey." He heaved a sigh, the corners of his eyes crinkling with suppressed mischief. "Having a monster meat causes so many problems."

"Yeah?" owen laughed. "Whose are you talking about?"

"Hey!" Riley feigned outrage.

Corey laughed, nodding in Riley's direction. "What he does have are delusions of grandeur. Sorta makes up for . . . you know."

"I know the problem. He's livin' in an alternate reality," Owen murmured, nodding sagely, agreeing with Corey. "Truly. The face is nice though," Owen added, leaning close to Riley, and turning his head from side to side, as if inspecting merchandise he was about to buy.

"I think the butt's kinda nice too," Corey grinned, as he ran an appreciative hand over his friend's firm butt cheeks."

"One would think you're a top," Riley laughed, "goin' around looking at guys' butts n'all."

"I am a top!" Corey sputtered. When both Owen and Riley laughed, he relented. "Well . . . sometimes . . . if I have to be," he added, reaching into the cavernous shower to turn on two of the shower heads.

"Hell, even I'd be a bottom for Jonah!" Riley groaned, stepping into the shower after the other two men. "Now, that's a monster meat. I'm surprised he doesn't black out every time he gets hard, from lack of blood to the brain, or something."

Corey grinned and seductively shimmied. "Yeah, it does sorta scratch all those hard to reach places." He grinned, 'Top, indeed!' he almost laughed. "The best tops around here are Jonah and Sam, and I only know Sam by reputation." He laughed. "You can tell when Sam's been doin' his thing, 'cause Owen and Lucas sorta walk funny for a day or so."

Owen smiled, softly snorting.

Riley's eyes lit.

"Have you and your brother?" Riley began, looking at Owen, who was vigorously washing his hair, the suds seeming to caress his body as they made their way to the ceramic tile floor.

"No," was the single word answer. Riley and Corey exchanged raised-brow looks as Owen finished rinsing his hair. "We've played around n'stuff, just never fucked."

"Oh . . . um," Riley searched for something which sounded appropriate. "Well . . . I've never played with my brothers, either," he finally added. "The older one, Kirby, is so straight laced I'm surprised he was able to father children. I've never even seen his bare chest, much less his dick. He's got two of 'em . . . children, I mean . . . not dicks, so he must be doing something right."

Riley stared into the distance. "Hmm. I guess they're his." He shrugged. "He, my sister, and m'mother, are all so stodgy, I can't imagine they've ever even thought of playing around. In fact . . . m'mother's the worst of 'em all. Damn, but that woman is puritanical!"

"Now, my younger brother, Nathan! He's exactly the opposite. I'm sure he's had his share of fun . . . probably even more'n me."

Corey snorted in amusement, but didn't comment.

After flicking Corey a bit of a frown, Riley continued, as he lathered his body. Owen had already finished, and was standing under the shower spray, watching his two shower-mates. "Nathan, he hates clothes as much as I do. M'father's the same way. M'mother, a woman as straight laced as Kirby, finally banished us to the second floor, so she didn't have to look at us. Nathan's cool. Mother's not . . . cool, that is."

"Well, I'm clean," Owen announced, when it was Corey's turn to be silent. Speaking of one's mother always caused the same reaction. 'He's gonna have to do something to get over it,' Owen thought, then silently snorted. 'Just like you're gonna have to do something to get over Pops,' he told himself, before quickly pushing the thought to the area of his mind where such unpleasant things were hidden. 'You think you've overcome him and put him in his place, but, when things are quiet, you still feel him breathing down your neck. Pops' words at the courthouse, apologizing to Jonah and me . . . they were nice to here, but they were too little and too late. Nothing he could have said would have undone the hurt of eighteen years. The man stole my childhood! There is no way I can ever recover from that!'

He focused on Riley, realizing how his new friend was studying him. Riley's pale green eyes, the ones people claimed made them feel as if he was examining their thoughts, whenever he looked at them, were doing precisely that. Owen felt naked . . . exposed . . . in a much more profound way than merely standing in front of Riley, unclothed. 'What is he thinkin'?' Owen wondered, as the pale green eyes studied him.

He cleared his throat, opened his mouth, and wiggled his tongue, hoping to break the spell. "I thought we were gonna taste one another's tongues." Just as he'd hoped, the words broke into both his and Corey's sudden melancholy mood.

"You really are taken with all of this," George Wilkins, Bailey's father, observed, as he listened to his son's description of what they were seeing during the drive to Riverton.

Bailey turned to his father and grinned. "Yes, I guess I am. I can understand why Lucas has fallen in love with the place. It's so peaceful. It's a good place to unwind. The people are friendly . . . unpretentious . . . refreshing. The food's good, and the scenery is . . ." he gestured to the wide open spaces. "The scenery is glorious. This isn't home, for me, though. It is a place to vacation, a place to unwind and visit friends. It's not a place for me to live." He flicked a grin at his father. "As much as I enjoy escaping from it, I need the stimulation of a city."

"You're not talking about a city, as in back home, are you?" Bailey's mother asked, from the rear seat of the vehicle, where she sat next to Lucas' mother and father.

"No. I'm not enamored of any particular city. I just need the stimulation of a city in order to be happy. Besides, such a place provides more opportunities. I've been thinking of doing something on my own, like Lucas," Bailey said, testing his father's reaction. "Not building or growing things," he added, but moving things." Another glance to his right, where his father sat, watching the scenery, wearing a pleased expression.

"Moving things is what we Wilkins' men do, isn't it?" he asked, referring to his father's cross country trucking business. "I'm not contemplating doing things in such a grand manner as you though," he continued, warming to his subject. "Moving things on a regional scale sounds more suited to my level of expertise. Perhaps," he added, glancing to Lucas' parents, in the back seat, "I may figure out a way to mesh my efforts with Lucas'. Now, that would be nice. It'd give me a chance to visit my friends, more often."

"What does Riley think of your ideas?" his mother asked. Since neither she or her husband had ever heard of Bailey's plans, she wondered how much Riley knew of her son's thoughts.

"My . . . ideas . . . are too recent to have been discussed with him." Bailey laughed. "Actually, I just came up with the idea as I was driving to the bus station to pick you all up. It's a good idea though, don't you think?" he turned to his father, amazed at how important his father's opinion had become to him.

George Wilkins reached across and squeezed his son's shoulder. "It is a wonderful idea, Bailey . . . absolutely wonderful. I can't begin to tell you how proud I am of you."

The three men stood in the warm shower spray, their arms wrapped around one another. One moment, Owen was deeply kissing Corey, the next, Riley. As they kissed, their hands explored one another . . . their backs, their chests . . . their erections.

"Well, men," Riley backed up, wearing a slightly dazed expression as he broke the three-way embrace. "I don't know what you guys are feeling, but I'm 'bout two strokes short of an orgasm." He turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. "I gotta lie down, and cool down a bit."

He caught the towel Corey tossed in his direction, and hurriedly dried himself, his eyes never leaving the two men, who were drying one another. "Will one of you guys make me shoot? You help me, I'll help you . . . deal?" Without waiting for an answer, he tossed his damp towel onto the vanity and trotted into the bedroom.

"You cool with this?" Corey murmured in Owen's ear, as they separated from a kiss.

"You bet! Fucking or getting fucked stays between Lucas and Sam n'me. Everything else is fine. That's a self-imposed rule," he added, "not something the three of us have agreed on."

Corey licked over Owen's jaw, feeling the slight stubble of a beard. When he reached Owen's ear, he murmured. "Riley shoots real sweet juice. Y'wanna suck him off while he and I kiss?"

"Geez yes!" Owen thrust his trapped erection against his friend. "I've gotta get started quick though, or I'm gonna explode. Let's go!"

Riley looked up, as the two men left the bathroom. "Glad you guys could make it," he grinned. "So far, this has been a one man show." He bent his legs and spread them, resting his feet flat on the bed sheets. He licked a couple fingers, then, as Owen climbed onto the bed, on one side, and Corey the other, he slipped his fingers into his own hole, sighing as his sphincter relaxed. "I may be a top," he grinned, closing his eyes as he pleasured himself, "but having a couple fingers up my butt sure does feel good."

"Ahhhhhh," he sighed, as Owen licked up the underside of his cock, then enveloped the head, and finally much of the length. Before he could say anything, Corey had begun a deep kiss.

'It's been years since I was with more than one guy at a time,' he thought, before surrendering himself to the sensations which were quickly pushing him to what promised to be an orgasm of monumental proportions. 'Come to think of it, Corey was with me then, too.'

Owen removed Riley's fingers from their slow thrusts, as he moved to a position between Riley's splayed legs, and re-swallowed the beautiful cock. 'Thicker than Lucas, or Corey, or me,' he thought, as he did his best to take as much as he could.

Riley extended his hands to his sides, gripping the bed sheets as he fucked Owen's mouth. When Owen, penetrated him with a couple fingers, he inhaled sharply and groaned loudly. 'I'm in sexual heaven!' he wanted to shout. 'Two of the hottest men I've ever met, and they're lavishing their attention on me!'

Corey straddled him, almost sitting on his belly, then leaned forward and madly kissed the man who had wrapped him in a tight embrace and seemed to want to swallow his tongue.

Riley suddenly jerked, and pulled Corey even closer, as his body shook three more times, each less powerful than the last, until finally he broke the kiss and turned his head to the side, gasping. "Oh, geez," he said, in a rough voice. "That had to be one of the best of all time.

Corey looked over his shoulder, at a sputtering sound, to see Owen, looking half dazed, with a thick strand of sperm escaping from the corner of his mouth. "Holy fuck!" he laughed, as he used a finger to catch it before it fell, and scrape it back into his mouth. "I didn't know it was even possible for a guy to shoot so much!" He crawled to Riley's side. "You 'bout friggin' drowned me!" He leaned forward and brought his mouth to Riley's.

"I never did get my promised kiss though. C'mon sexy, suck on my tongue and taste your own jiz." Corey watched as the two men aggressively kissed. One moment, he could see Riley's tongue penetrating Owen's open mouth. The next, Owen was either immersed in a deep kiss, or was giving Riley's face a tongue bath.

"Shoot," Riley began, then laughed. "Easy, Owen! You're tryin' to swallow my frickin' tongue! I need it to taste both you guys' juice!"

He patted the bed, at either side. "Jerk off into my open mouth." He gave Owen a stern look. "Into my mouth, Owen. Don't shoot across the room like Corey does. I wanna taste you both, straight from the source, not after I've had to lick where you've sprayed the bed sheets."

"Yeah, yeah, we know," Corey murmured. "Quit the chatter and open up. I'm not far."

"Me neither," Owen grunted, as he slowly stimulated himself. Corey loved watch Owen masturbate. He would basically, fuck his hand. His hips would rock, thrusting his penis through his tight grip. He would quickly thrust three or four times, then slowly pull his penis back through his grip, tightening his hand around the swell of the cock's head. All the while, his head was thrown back, his eyes tightly shut, and his mouth open, taking deep breaths.

Just the sight of Owen giving himself pleasure was enough to push Corey close to the edge. Knowing that his long-time friend, would be swallowing his sperm . . . was . . . about . . . to . . . push him over.

He placed the head of his cock on Riley's extended tongue, stroked two more times, then four strong contraction gripped him. Riley automatically swallowed the first, as it hit the back of his throat. The second, third, and fourth coated his tongue in a thick glaze.

No sooner had Corey's orgasm subsided, than Owen groaned. Riley quickly turned his head toward Owen, and, following Corey's earlier lead, Owen rested the head of his cock on Riley's already sperm-covered tongue.

Owen's body tensed, then jerked. From where he knelt, Corey saw a thick strand of sperm shoot into Riley's mouth, causing another involuntary swallow. "Ugh . . . uh . . . geeez," he said, as his orgasm swept past. He sank back, to rest on his heels and laughed.

"Now that was fun!" He looked at Riley, who seemed to be savoring the two men's loads. "C'mon, Corey," Owen urged. "Let's kiss him and get some of our juice back!"

Corey attacked Riley's mouth first, as Owen held the prone man down, engulfing Riley's cock with his mouth. Then, it was Owen's turn to taste Riley's tongue while Corey sucked on his friend. He didn't think Riley was ready, quite yet, to shoot another load, but he had no trouble remaining hard.

Finally, Owen rolled onto his back and laughed, his distinctive bubbly laughter, which had been sadly missing for the past few weeks. It was wonderful to hear it return, and meant, that for the present time, at least, he wasn't thinking about leaving Riverton.

"C'mere," Sam murmured. Lucas slipped off the edge of the planting table and moved to stand between Sam's slightly spread legs.

'Like this?' Lucas asked, with slightly raised brows, his eyes sparkling in his normal dry humor. Sam's silently responded, snaking his arms around Lucas' waist, and pulled him closer.

"You really are a special man, my handsome lover," Sam murmured, close to Lucas' ear, then smiled, as he focused on Lucas' eyes. He ran a fingertip over the faint grey of beard stubble, which shown on Lucas' pale skin. "Have I ever told you how sexy I think the beard-shadow is? Or," he continued, tracing a line over Lucas' jaw, then over his throat, to his chest, circling in on the standing man's nipples. "Or," Sam breathed, these?"

Lucas, who often claimed his nipples were the most sensitive spot on his body, sighed, as he trembled. "Uh huh," he murmured, shaking his head. "No," he added, convulsively swallowing.

"Too bad," Sam murmured, "'cause I love sucking on 'em," he added, as he leaned closer and sucked on one of Lucas' nipples, through the fabric of his shirt. Lucas' instant reaction was to aggressively pull Sam's head closer to his chest.

"Yeahhhh," he exhaled. "That's it, Handsome."

"C'mere." With a hand on either side of Sam's head, he guided Sam's mouth to his, where their tongues met.

"You can call me, Sammy, you know." Sam said, after they breathlessly parted. "I'd like you to."

Lucas slowly shook his head. "No . . . I can't do that." When Sam gave him a questioning look, Lucas added. "Only Owen can call you that. To him you are Sammy."

"That's sweet," Sam murmured, his face only inches from Lucas'. "But . . . deep down, in unspoken words, may I be Sammy to you, too?"

"I've got a couple questions," Riley asked, from where he sprawled, across from Owen, occupying one of the apartment's large chairs. Owen grinned, raised a limp hand then let it fall, in silent permission.

"If it's about sex, the answer's yes," Corey called, from the kitchen, where he was preparing something cold to drink for him and his friends.

"Not now, Corey," Riley called back, his voice uncharacteristically serious. "I'm not joking around, now. Later maybe, but not now."

The response to Corey's question, and the serious tone of voice in which it was delivered caused Owen's post-orgasm lethargy to disappear. His attention focused on Riley, even though he still sprawled on the dark leather chair, one leg stretched out in front of him, the other draped over the chair's arm. The penis, which had so recently fed him a mouthful of thick sperm, limply curved over Owen's tight scrotum.

"Answer me, as honestly as you can, using only yes or no," Riley began. Owen nodded. "Do you want to leave Riverton?"

Owen blinked, flicking a glance at Corey, who, in turn, was watching Riley.

"No," Owen finally answered, all traces of his earlier humor, absent.

"Do you want to live by yourself?"

Owen shook his head, somehow knowing where these questions were leading. Corey walked into the room, carrying three frosty glasses, and gave Riley a questioning glance as he passed. He handed Owen his glass, briefly touching Owen's shoulder in support, before he took a seat, curling his feet beneath him.

"You've told me how much you enjoyed winter," Riley continued, taking a small sip of his drink. He grinned at Owen's snort. "Do you want to experience the cold and wind again? What about the sleet, or all those slippery steps at the university? Did you like having to dress in all those bulky clothes? You . . . a man who enjoys wearing next to nothing?

"What? . . ."

Riley held up a hand, before Owen could continue.

"No," Owen finally added, in a low voice. I don't like any of those things, one bit." He bowed his head and rubbed a hand over his forehead. 'I can't let this continue,' he told himself. 'I just . . . can't.' Yet, Riley's mere presence held him in place.

"I . . . don't wanna answer any more questions," he said, in a shaking voice, as he set his drink aside.

Riley was not ready to take, no, for an answer. He raised his voice, pinning Owen to his chair, as sure as the penetrating gaze. In response, Owen's body language spoke volumes. Where, only minutes earlier, he sprawled on the chair, completely at ease, now, he sat with both feet on the floor, leaning forward and resting both elbows on his knees, not looking at Riley.

"Do you love the school," Riley asked, in a calm voice. "I mean the actual school, not what you can learn."

Another negative shake of the head.

"Do you love the city, the action, the excitement, the bustle, of the crowds?"

A snort.

"Are you thinking that you want to go back to the city because your education is paid for . . . that people here . . . all your friends . . . will think you're a quitter, if you don't go back? Are you afraid that they'll think you didn't deserve that big scholarship . . . that you're not good enough . . . that they'll talk. That . . . somehow . . ."

Riley paused, taking a deep breath. "Are you afraid if you don't go back, that your father might have been right about you? That you're not good enough? That you never were? That he was right . . . about you?"

Owen inhaled sharply, as if he'd been slapped, but held up a warning hand at Corey's strangled sound of protest.

"Is that what's really troubling you, my friend," Riley asked, . . . "Are you afraid that your father may have been right about you? And . . . Owen . . . believe me. I'm asking these questions because you are my friend. These are things which you must face. In fact, I'd be willing to bet that these questions are about all you have been thinking about. Am I right?"

Owen's single nod, spoke eloquently.

"You've put off making a decision as long as you can. You've put off facing your fears." He took another deep breath. "All of us have fears which we are loath to face. There comes a time when we have to face them, whether we want to, or not . . . whether we're ready to, or not.

"You refused to let Bailey . . . or Corey . . . back away from things they had to face. Now, I will not let you. He turned to Corey with a twisted smile. "No one's told me anything about you, Corey . . . or about whatever Owen has told you, or you him. I just know that you are different, since coming to Riverton . . . more relaxed, trying less to deflect conversations away from things you don't wish to speak of. I've known you for four years. The change is noticeable and . . . welcome. As far as I know, the only person who could have brought this about is our friend, here." He tilted his head in Owen's direction.

"I hate that man, guys," Owen murmured, drawing the two men's attention back to him. "Yet, at the same time, I love him. My feelings are so twisted, I don't know what to think. Everything I do, everything I say or think, somehow is a result of what I experienced at the hands of that person. Every day, until I left for school, he told me how worthless I was . . . how me livin' was nothing but a waste of food and oxygen. I need to prove him wrong. I need to prove that I am worth something!" Owen's voice cracked. "I am!" He sank back into his chair, and spoke in a voice, barely audible. "I am."

Corey moved, intent on going to Owen's side. Riley stopped him with a commanding glance and a small gesture.

"He haunts me. Every night," Owen continued. "I wake up, hearing him laughing at me, calling me a failure, telling me he was right all along. When I was at school, despite the cold, and missin' Sam and Jonah n'all, he didn't bother me. It was like I was rubbin' his face in the fact that I was good for something, that my life meant something. When I came back to Riverton, it started all over again. The longer I've stayed, the worse it's become, until now . . . I can barely shut him out. I jog or lift weights until I'm 'bout ready to collapse, just to wear myself out.

"I know I'm hurtin' Sam and Lucas, 'cause I'm not paying enough attention to them. They've accepted it all though. They've never asked why, sometimes at night, I lay trembling. I know that . . . a couple times, at least . . . I must have had a nightmare and shouted something in my sleep, 'cause I woke up, sitting up in bed, breathing heavy. The guys have been gentle, tellin' me things'll be okay. But they're not. It's like they never will be, as long as I'm here . . . in Riverton. And, worst of all . . . when I'm laying between Lucas and Sam . . ." He glanced at Corey. "Sometimes . . . I'm wishin' it was Jonah who was next to me, holding me, tellin' me things would be okay . . . just like he did for all those years." He bowed his head. "I'm sorry t'say that, Corey. It's just how, when it gets real bad, how I feel."

"So, going to the city, and to school is an attempt to escape your fears . . . your nightmares," Riley said, matter-of-factly. Owen heaved a confirming shrug, but didn't look up.

"It's like he's running my life. I'm afraid of him. I'm afraid he might have always been right."

"So, you're willing to give up everything you have . . . Lucas, Sam, your mother and her husband . . . your sisters . . . all the townspeople who love you . . . everything . . . because you're afraid of a dead man's opinion? Owen, he has no opinion. You are allowing him to rule your life. He is not haunting you. You are allowing your memories of his mistreatment to haunt you. Think about it. You are arguing with a dead man! You have created a ghost, then proceeded to let that ghost rule your life!"

Owen opened his mouth to speak but was prevented when Riley continued speaking.

"You will never win an argument with a figment of your imagination, Owen. No matter how much you strive . . . no matter how much success you have at college . . . it will never be enough to banish the ghost you've created. If you allow it, he will always be hanging over your shoulder, whispering in your ear, telling you that you're not good enough. He will always do that, Owen, until you stop allowing him to haunt you!

"But . . ." Owen squeaked.

"I'm not saying you've done anything wrong, or that you are to blame for anything, only that you have the power to stop the pain you're feeling. You know what you need to do, as far as going back to the city is concerned. You know, yet it appears that you are going to ignore that knowledge and do the wrong thing . . . because you're . . . AFRAID!" Both Corey and Owen flinched at the shouted word.

"What would you have told Bailey, if he had been about to do something as self-destructive, as you are planning to do?

"You extended a helping hand to Bailey. You gave him your friendship. You did the same thing to Corey, here, and, from what Bailey has told me, any number of other folks, both here in Riverton, and back in the City. Yet, you are ignoring those same people who are offering you their hands . . . their friendship . . . their support . . . all because you are afraid of what a dead man thinks about you!"

Owen took a shuddering breath, and did his best to grin. "Geez, Riley." His voice broke and he swiped at his watery eyes. He swallowed and tried to compose himself. "Is this what people call tough love?"

Riley considered the question for a moment. "No, it is only a guy who's pretty much of a stranger telling you what your friends are too close to see.

"I'm not saying that Corey, or Lucas, or Sam, your brother, or whomever, has ever thought of things the way I do, or that I'm right about the things I've said. But, since arriving, I have personally seen how you have tied yourself in knots trying to convince yourself that going back to the City would be the best thing for you to do. I have seen how all this has bothered you. And, I have seen what you are like when you are able to ignore those fears, for a few moments, like when I was sitting on the bathroom counter watching your antics in the shower, over at your apartment, or in the shower, here, a while ago, or on that bed in the other room." Riley thought for a moment. "Maybe there's something special about showers . . . y'think? Or, maybe, it's 'cause I'm such a great guy who has a stunning personality and a winning smile."

Both Owen and Corey laughed.

"I don't think that what's special are the guys I associate with." Owen stood, crossed the room, and pulled Riley up out of the chair in which he was sitting, then kissed him.

"Thank you for your tough love, Riley." Owen grinned, glancing at Corey, who was watching, open-mouthed. "I . . . can't promise yet, what I'll do. I've gotta do some thinking. I'm also thinking I need to talk to Mama, and Abigail." He grinned. "Both those women have got a good head on their shoulders . . . just like you."

"So we hear . . . about your sister, I mean," Riley grinned. "From her friend, Clyde," Riley supplied, when Owen frowned. "He thinks she's pretty special too. And, Corey can't seem to say enough good things about your mother." He heaved a sigh. "From all I've seen, you come from a truly remarkable family. We should all be so lucky . . . right, Corey?"

"Uh . . . right."

"The bottom line," Owen said, is that, Pops was wrong about me, just like he was wrong about so much else." Owen stood straight, squaring his shoulders. "I am a good person, and there is nothing that that man can do to make me less than I am. Only I can do that . . . by listening to the whispers of a dead man!"

The sound of John Philip Sousa's Stars And Stripes Forever, rang out, from the bedroom. "My phone!" Riley jumped out of the chair and trotted into the bedroom. "Maybe it's Bailey!"

"Y'okay, Owen?" Corey asked, finally free to move to his friend's side. "I mean really okay . . . not just sayin' it? He was pretty rough on you."

Owen leaned into his friend, welcoming the arm around his waist, and the warmth. "It was what I needed. I was all set to go back to that school, just so I could prove Pops was wrong about me, and to stop the nightmares. Riley was right. Goin' back there wouldn't have solved anything. I would have been there for the wrong reason. Still," he continued, after a long pause. "I need to figure out if goin' back would be good for me . . . because I want to, not because I'm a puppet, letting Pops pull my strings.

"I've gotta make the right decision, the first time, though," he added. "I mean, if I leave, it's like I'm burning my bridges behind me. No matter what anyone says, my relationship with Lucas and Sam will never be the same. Same with you'n Jonah. Are the rewards of goin' back, worth losing what I have?

"Can you forgive me for wishin' Jonah at my side? It's just that . . ."

"He's your brother! He's helped you, all of your life. You love him. Of course you would want him at your side. I'm sure he is aware of some of what you've been goin' through, and wishes he was at your side, holding you, doin' whatever he could to ease your pain."

Both men looked up as Riley walked back into the living room, his cell phone held to his ear. He covered the microphone and muttered. "M'mother." He motioned for the guys to stay. "This won't take long."

"Yes, Mother," he said, responding to a question, as he perched on the arm of a chair, idly swinging one leg. He scratched his pubes, grinning at the two men who sat close by. "Yes, I'm in Riverton, at a friend's apartment. It's a beautiful town. Everyone is so friendly. They'll bend over backwards to make sure you're having a good time." He winked at the guys.

"No, I can't make it back in time to go to Germany with the rest of you. I told you that I would fly out to join you on the first flight I can get, the moment I return to the city. Right now, I'm here, and I'm enjoying every minute of my stay." He sighed. "No, Mother. That was not intended to mean that I wouldn't enjoy being with the family, and please . . . do not try to make me feel guilty for not being the son you would have chosen. I've given up apologizing for my shortcomings, so please do not waste your breath. I cannot. I will not change, no matter how hard you wish it. I am what I am, like it or not.

Riley heaved a disgusted sigh. "Look, Mother, I'm sure you have many last minute things to occupy your time, instead of visiting with me. Have a good trip. I'll see you in a few days. Bye." He removed the phone from his ear, effectively cutting off anything his mother might have been saying, and viciously pushed the button ending the call.

"I would dearly like to tell that woman exactly what I think of her and her attempts to finagle me into doing as she wishes. It won't work!" Riley took a deep breath and gave Jonah and Corey an apologetic look. "The only way that woman will ever quit hounding me is when she's dead and buried." He thought for a moment. "Knowing her, she'll probably find some way to disturb my life even then." He held up a warning hand. "I know. I know," he added. "After our conversation of a few minutes ago, she's only bothering me because I allow it." He grinned. "Damn it, Owen! It is so much easier to give advice than to abide by that same advice in one's own life!

"Mother always was a social climber. She seems to think that she's reached as high as she is going to, so now she's planning m'sister's wedding. Lisa . . . that's m'sister . . . is getting married to some German big wig, with ties to old-time royalty, or something. Mother's beside herself thinking that once Lisa's married, there'll be royalty in the family." He rolled his eyes.

"M'older brother, Kirby does exactly as Mother orders . . . the spineless wonder," he muttered, under his breath. "Nathan my younger brother and I are not so cooperative. Y'know, I half believe that Mother would just as soon do away with Nathan and me, than to deal with us."

"Riley!" Corey said, shocked at his friend's words. They'd known one another for years and he'd never heard Riley say such things.

"Well, it's true! She tolerates me . . . barely. She's happiest whenever I'm someplace other than near her . . . which suits me just fine." He lowered his voice.

"Guys, Father thinks there's something slimy goin' on with his attorneys. Me . . . I think something slimy's going on with Mother." He held up a hand. "I don't know what. I'm probably wrong, but whatever it is, my oldest brother is in on it, and my sister probably too."

"Your father?"

"No," Riley smiled. "All Dad wants to do is tend his company. He thinks that 'cause Mother has taken an interest in the company, that everything's cool, but he's forgotten that Mother does not do anything which does not directly benefit Mother. I know. I know. I shouldn't be talkin' this way, but, damn it, something's wrong!

"Whenever I ask her about anything having to do with the business, she starts in on me, tellin' me what a poor excuse I am for a son, ranting about Bailey, how he's nothin' but New Money, and a Northerner to boot! The freakin' Civil War was over and done with, over a hundred and fifty years ago! But, she lives it every day. It's as if she's playing a part in some godawful play, or something, with her as the star. I hate it. She thrives on high drama!" Riley had been pacing back and forth across the room. Suddenly, he turned. "She hates me, that's for sure. I hate to say it, but I truly do believe that I hate her, too."

"Riley!"

"I know it's a terrible thing to even think, but, geez, Corey, I don't feel safe around her. I've caught her watching me a couple times, and the way she was lookin' at me gave me the willies. I mean, really. It was like she was planning on where to dispose of the body, or something."

"She's your mother! She wouldn't be havin' thoughts like that. What does Bailey say?"

Riley shrugged. "Bailey doesn't know much about her. I don't want to tell him 'cause I'm not a very good liar, and it's bound to come out that she detests him, 'cause of his New Money, and that he came from North of the Maxon Dixon Line, y'know, that cultural boundary between Northern folk and Southern gentlemen." Riley's voice dripped sarcasm. "I don't want Bailey to feel bad or question the validity of anything he's accomplished. He's so pleased with this new person he's becoming. He's cute to watch, and I'd hate to throw a wet rug over his enthusiasm. I hate keepin' things from him, but this just isn't something I wanna talk about.

"I feel okay talking to you, 'cause you've known me longer. And you, Owen," Riley smiled. "I just finished telling you how to run your life, so I guess it's okay for you to hear all the dirt about mine."

"That's Lucas!" Olivia, Lucas' mother shouted, as Bailey drove down a largely deserted main street.

"And Sam," Bailey added. "Sam told me they were going to be spending most of the day out at the greenhouses, tying up last minute details before they accept the first of five buildings. Bea, Owen's mother has persuaded Lucas to use, at least part of the first greenhouse, to grow cut flowers." Bailey smiled. "Lucas has got this thing about flowers. He's got them in almost every room of the bed and breakfast.

"He's so pleased with the result, and I must say, it is very nice."

"He looks so happy," Olivia smiled, squeezing her husband's hand. "And, so tanned! The country life appears to be agreeing with him." Olivia leaned forward. "Do we have much further to go, Bailey? Can we stop here? I want to hug my son!"

No sooner had Bailey slowed to a stop, than Olivia slid the door to the van open and jumped out. She ran around the back of the bus calling Lucas' name and holding her arms wide.

"Mother!" Lucas responded, his smile broadening, as he jogged to her and melted into her embrace. "I'm so pleased you're here, though I thought you would be arriving tomorrow. I was planning on picking you up."

"We decided to travel with George and Louise. They're in the van."

She turned as her husband joined them. Lucas held out a hand, but his father ignored it, instead hugging him tightly. "It's good to see you, son," he said, in a rough voice. You're looking good."

"Sam!" Olivia called, motioning him closer, for his own hug from her and a handshake from her husband. "You're looking wonderful!" She held on to Sam, with a hand around his waist, and gathered Lucas to her. "Well, I've greeted two of my boys. Where do you think the others might be? Owen, Jonah, Corey, and Bailey's friend, Riley," she added, by way of an explanation. "Are they out at the greenhouses too?"

While Lucas and his parents had been visiting, they were joined by Bailey and his parents, for another round of hugs and handshakes.

"Has Bailey pointed out his building yet?" Lucas asked. "He and Sam have worked miracles. It had stood derelict, for years, but now it's a showpiece!"

"I'm afraid I didn't give him an opportunity," Olivia grinned, turning an apologetic look in Bailey's direction. "When I saw you and Sam crossing the street, I made him stop so I could get out and give you both a hug."

Twice, the reunion halted while Lucas and Sam responded to greetings from passersby. Each time, he introduced both his and Bailey's parents to the smiling and welcoming citizens. "Your boy's doin' great things for Riverton," one of the men said, as he and his wife walked on, their children at their side.

One of their children, waved. "Bye, Lucas!" she called. "Bye, Sam! Say hi to Corey for me, will 'ya?"

"And, Owen," her brother called, adding his own enthusiastic wave.

While Lucas was waving, Bailey turned to Olivia. "I told you he was popular!"

"Oh . . . my," she murmured, turning her shining eyes on her husband, who was watching his son with deep paternal satisfaction.

"Bailey," Lucas said. "Would you mind getting everyone settled in, while Sam n'I go round up everyone? Then, we can have some dinner."

"Are you cooking?" Neil asked, with raised brows. The answer was a quickly silenced bark of laughter from Sam.

"No," Lucas answered his father's question, frowning in Sam's direction. "Tonight, we can eat at Sally's. She owns a restaurant next door to the bed and breakfast. In fact, she supplies the food we use at the business." He grinned in his mother's direction. "She's very good."

"I'll give her a heads-up," Bailey offered, as Olivia gave Lucas another embrace and quick kiss on the cheek.

"I'm glad you're both here," Lucas said. "I've missed you both, more than I can say."

"As we have missed you," Neil added. "More than either of us could have guessed."

"Isn't this great?" Lucas asked, turning to Sam. "They seem happy to be here. I wonder how much Bailey's told them about the greenhouses and things." Sam opened his mouth, but was interrupted. "Bailey's folks look good. Do you think they're here because of Bailey's building? I'm looking forward to showing them around and having them meet everyone."

"Take a breath!" Sam laughed, as he and Lucas turned toward the apartment entrance, but not before Lucas had turned back to his parents, who were still watching him. "Welcome to Riverton!" he called.

"Oh, Sam!" he said, turning back to his partner and pulling him close, with an arm over the shoulder. "I am soooo happy!"

"I would never have guessed," Sam responded dryly, then danced out of the way as Lucas playfully lunged at him, with a laugh.

~ to be continued ~

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If you have enjoyed this story, you might also like to read, Phalen, also in the Gay College Section.

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