Warning. You are in an archive of gay themed literature, so it shouldn't come as a shock to you to learn that the following story has a gay theme.
You should leave if any of the following apply.
You don't like reading about gay people hoping to create happy meaningful and loving relationships with one another.
You are below the age of consent in your community to be reading this type of thing.
Your local laws prohibit you from reading material of a homoerotic nature.
Lastly if you've opened up this file in search of something to get you off quickly, then maybe you should think about trying something else. The story is slow-paced and character-driven.
This story was written by me; I don't want you copying it or displaying or archiving it on any other website or newsgroup without my prior written permission. This story has been submitted to the Nifty Archives under the terms of its submission agreement.
It's fiction folks; it's all made up, not real. No one in the story exists in real life.
As usual John and Lars have weaved their magic and made my words adhere more closely to the laws of English grammar.
Chapter 3
Carl Powers had taken the morning off from a shop remodel he was doing, in order to take his twelve-year-old son Ben to see the specialist at the hospital.
The two sat in the waiting room watching the various comings and goings. A rather harassed woman sat glumly in one of the armchairs, whilst her overactive children terrorised the other patients. At one point her eldest son, Laurence had nicked off with an old man's crutches, which the man had propped by his chair.
"Larry! Put those bleedin' things back will yer. I'm fed up of yer always pissing about." The woman said loudly. Needless to say the light hum of conversation in the room came to a complete halt, as everyone stared at the foulmouthed woman.
Carl had had previous dealings with Miss Jennifer Perkins. He'd replaced a panel in her front door three years earlier, when the delightful Lawrence had kicked it in after being locked out of the house. Jennifer had three children, each to different fathers, none of whom she married. After three years Carl was still waiting to be paid for his work.
Even though Ben's appointment had been at 10:30 am, it wasn't until 11:15 before the nurse stuck her head around the waiting room door and announced "Ben Powers, please."
Thinking that this was it, the two stood up and approached the woman.
"Just take a seat at the end of the corridor please." She told them. They had another 15 minute wait before being ushered into the presence.
Dr Meadows was overworked; he'd reached the exalted rank of consultant Rheumatologist five years earlier, his secretary, who was in post before him, was totally useless. Her handwritten notes were even more illegible than his own, her typing was slow and inaccurate, and her coffee was undrinkable, but Dr Meadows plodded on as best he could.
He asked Ben to go into the next room to strip off the clothes above his waist, and then come back into the main consulting room. Whilst Ben was undressing, Dr Meadows read the notes from Ben's family doctor, and also the Radiologist's report that accompanied a set of x-ray films, which he clipped to a light panel above his desk.
Dr Meadows asked his patient to try and touch his toes; Carl was dismayed to see that Ben could only manage to get halfway between his knees and his toes. The youngster was also asked to stand up straight and to bend to either side sliding his hand down his leg. After demonstrating a few more examples of his flexibility, or lack thereof, Ben was asked a series of questions regarding his aches and pains. He was then told to go and put his clothes back on. Dr Meadows began to write in the notes as he waited for Ben to return.
"Well, young man." The bushy-eyed doctor told Ben after he'd taken a seat to the left of the doctor's desk. "You have a condition called Juvenile Ankylosing Spondylitis."
"Is there a cure?" Carl asked hopefully. He'd watched his son change from an active child to one who seemed to be stiff and in pain, particularly first thing in the morning. Ben seemed to walk with a stoop, and he often complained about his hips and knees hurting too.
"It's a form of Rheumatoid arthritis, it's what we call a chronic condition. That means we can help alleviate the symptoms, but it's a long term thing, I'm afraid."
Carl was upset; he'd been a lone parent ever since Ben had been small. He and his wife Maureen had divorced after only four years of marriage, Carl had done everything he could for his son, and it pained him deeply that Ben had arthritis, something he thought only affected old people.
Carl's mind drifted back to when Ben was a toddler. He'd be busy working for his father in the family business, but often he'd lay down his hammer, saw, chisel or whatever and wonder what his son was up to. Curiously, Carl didn't often think what his wife was doing. Despite Carl putting in long hours to help pay the rent and utility bills, he was there to see his sons first steps, he heard Ben say his first distinct word, "Daddy." Although Carl had loved his son before that word had been uttered, the sound had cemented the father and son bond forever. He recalled taking his two-year-old son up into his arms and hugging him fiercely.
"What's the treatment, doc?" Ben's voice broke Carl's train of thought.
Ben had taken the news of his condition well, but then this was to be expected. Ben hardly ever complained about his lot, he was, despite his aches and pains, a happy child who always tried to make the best of things.
"Well, we can put you on a course of non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drugs, which should help with the pain, but the best thing to do to manage the condition is to exercise. Do you swim?"
"Yes, sometimes."
"Well, swimming is excellent as the buoyancy of the water helps support your body. I'll also give you a sheet with some exercises you can do at home. It's important that you follow them, because you need to maintain as much movement in your joints as possible, because if you don't your bones will begin to fuse together. That's what the Ankylosing bit means."
"Right." Ben wasn't much for exercise. It generally hurt when he tried to bend his body. The swimming didn't sound too bad though.
"I'll put your name down on the waiting list for hydrotherapy too. We've got a pool here in the hospital that is run by the Physiotherapists. They'll go through various exercises with you, and you'll be able to play around with a few of the toys they have in the pool as well. I'm sure you'll have a great deal of fun lying on your back with various floats under you. These will help to stretch your spine and correct your posture. Although I have to warn you there's a waiting list, I'm afraid. You won't get to go into the pool for a few months, and then you'll probably only get about ten sessions."
This angered Carl. "So if exercise helps Ben to stay well, why can't the sessions go on for longer?"
"Like everything else with the dear old National Health Service, it's a matter of too many patients, but insufficient resources, I'm sorry to say."
"That's disgraceful." Carl said getting himself worked up, his blue eye's flashing.
"It's okay, dad." Ben said reaching over and putting a hand on his father's arm. "I can still go to the local pool and swim whenever I want to."
"Yeah, but they're closing it down soon. We'll have to travel miles to get to the next nearest one." Carl said, recalling a piece he'd read in the local paper.
"We'll work something out, dad." Ben said giving his father's arm a squeeze.
Carl immediately relaxed. He was constantly amazed at how calm and collected his son always took life.
"Sorry Ben, sorry doc. It's just when your kid needs something and you can't give it to him, you get so frustrated."
"It's perfectly understandable, Mr Powers." Dr Meadows said. Though being a bachelor he'd never had children, and he wasn't the paternal type, either.
The three talked for a little longer; Dr Meadow's handed over a prescription for the medication, but he told Ben to ring his family doctor if the pills didn't agree with him, or if he had a reaction to them. He warned Ben to take the pills sparingly, as they could cause stomach ulcers, bleeding into the digestive tract, and there was also a risk of Rey's disease, which Dr Meadows told the pair was why drugs such as aspirin weren't normally given to children of Ben's age.
After saying that he'd see them again in six months time, the doctor stood up, shook his patient's hand, and that of his rather good-looking father too. Once the two had left his room, Jim Meadows let out a quiet "Woof." At the remembered sight of the senior Powers.
"It's not right, Ben."
"We'll cope, dad."
"But why should we have to?"
"We don't have a lot of choice." Ben said unbuckling his seatbelt.
The two had been discussing the doctor's words all the way home. They'd stopped off at the chemist's and got Ben's prescription for the new medication filled. "You never know, these might help me."
The two walked into the small house that they shared. "Oh son, I wish I could do more." Carl said wrapping Ben up in his arms.
"Dad you do everything you can for me. You've never let me down. I know it hasn't been easy for you since mum left, but you've been the best dad in the world to me."
"Thanks son. It hasn't been easy bringing you up on my own, but you've always been such a great kid, never any trouble. I hear the guys on the building sites moaning on about their children and how they're always asking for new trainers, the latest bit of computer equipment and other stuff, which I wish I could have bought for you. But you've never kept asking for expensive things."
"Because I knew that we couldn't afford it, dad." Ben loved his father more than he'd dare admit; he worshiped the ground he walked on.
One of Ben's earliest memories, he must have only been about three years old, was waking up from a bad dream finding his dad kneeling by his little bed. Carl had reached over and held his son until all traces of the bad dream had gone.
The three-year-old had lifted up his limpid brown eyes, still moist from his tears. "Can I sleep with you, daddy?" His mother leaving the parental home had brought on Ben's distress.
Carl couldn't ever deny his son anything. So he scooped up the precious bundle into his arms and took him into his own bed. If ever Ben got scared in the night, he would pad along the landing to his dad's bed and crawl under the covers and push himself up against his father's reassuring warmth. Though as Ben grew older, these nocturnal visits became less frequent.
Carl and his wife had slowly drifted apart; Maureen had met and fallen for another man at the Council offices where she worked part-time. Carl didn't find the news of his wife wishing to leave him all that surprising. He'd recognised that his and Maureen's relationship had run its course, and he knew they needed to move on. The two had always been friends, and that, they concluded, was how they should have remained. Marriage had been just a step too far.
On hearing his wife saying that she was going to move out, Carl grew frightened. He looked plaintively down at his wife and asked in a voice shaking with fear "What about Ben?"
Maureen loved her son, however she was fully aware of the very tight bond that existed between her son and husband. Even when Ben was a baby it was Carl, not her, who could get him to settle down when he became agitated. It was Carl who woke in the night at the merest sound of Ben needing attention. Carl would be up and out of the bed and into the kitchen warming up the 2 am feed, before Maureen was even aware of the fact that her son had stirred.
When Ben learned to walk, it was almost always Carl he went to. Whenever Ben sustained a cut to his knee or banged his head, it was Carl who offered comfort.
As soon as Ben heard his father's van pulling up outside the house each evening, the young toddler would immediately perk up and run to the window, watching his dad coming down the garden path. As soon as Carl entered the house, Ben would run to his father, his arms outstretched demanding to be picked up. Carl would scoot his son up into his arms and the two would spend a few minutes telling each other about their day.
Maureen looked at the despair etched into her husbands face. She was about to break their marriage; she couldn't break his heart too. "Will you let me see him at the weekends, Carl?"
Carl broke down completely; he fell to his knees weeping uncontrollably. Maureen had never seen her husband cry before. She got down on the carpet with him and put her arms around him. "You love him so much, Carl. It's as obvious as the nose on your face that he loves you, too. Though I don't want to leave him, I know if I took him from you, it would break your heart, and Ben's too."
"I love you Mo. I'm sorry it didn't work out between us, but as God is my witness, you've given me the most wonderful and precious gift you ever could." Carl said as his tears coursed down his face.
"What you and Ben have is so special. I saw it the very first time you held him in your arms. I remember you coming into the hospital room after I'd given birth. Remember I couldn't get in touch with you when I went into labour?"
Carl nodded; he had been working on a remote building site at the time. This was before the age of the mobile phone.
"I remember you coming into my room. To give you your due, you came and asked me how I was first, but I knew you had a question on your lips. You remember that we'd agreed on names for both a boy and a girl?"
"Yeah, we'd chosen Justine as a girls name."
"That's right. When you'd kissed me after walking into the room I said 'Do you want to see our Ben?' I know that you'd have loved a girl, but you had a secret hankering for a son, didn't you?"
"Well, erm, yeah, I guess so." Carl said wiping his nose.
"The moment you picked Ben up, I knew, I could see that there was an extra special connection between you two. I can't and won't break that bond Carl."
"You okay, dad?" Ben had seen his father drift off for a few moments; the two were still hugging one another in the hallway.
"Just remembering when your mum left, and at how glad I was that she let you live here with me."
"I was glad too, dad. I love mum loads, but, well I probably shouldn't say it, but I've always loved you the most." Ben said kissing his father's cheek.
The two disengaged, and Carl went into the kitchen ostensibly to put the kettle on, but the real reason was that Carl needed to calm his rising emotions.
Ben walked into the front room. "The answering machine's blinking." He called out. As a rule Ben didn't touch the machine. Very few people rang up wanting to speak to him, he was a bit of a loner, and so the chances were that the message would be for his dad.
After putting the kettle on, Carl came into the room. He pressed the button and the machine told him that he had two messages. The first was from his mother, asking how Ben had got on at the hospital, the second caused Carl's eyebrows to raise up. It was from his former boyhood friend Robbie Foster. He was asking him to come over to give him a quote for some work he needed doing.
"I'm not going." Carl said after playing the message for a second time.
"Dad, we need the work." Ben pointed out.
"Yeah, that's true, but I don't want work from him!" Ben knew all about how Robbie Foster had hurt his dad when the two were teenagers. Being fiercely loyal to his father, Ben naturally enough took his dad's side, but Ben was also a pragmatist. The business wasn't doing all that well. It had to support Carl and he, as well as providing an income for his granddad and grandmother. Stan Powers was unable to work due to his Parkinson's disease, which caused his hands to shake so badly, that he was unable to hold his tools steady. Carl was always careful to keep his dad in touch with the business. Stan Powers knew that his son was merely humouring him, but he appreciated the gesture; the three would often sit outside Stan's house as Stan treated the pair to tales of how things 'ought to be done'.
"Dad, you can do it. There'll be loads of work up at the big house, and you're the best joiner for miles."
"Thanks, son." Carl said wrapping an arm around his son. "But Rob bleeding Foster, I don't know."
"Dad you know that the van is on its last legs, and it won't pass its next MOT (Ministry Of Transport inspection for road worthiness)."
"Yeah, I know, but it wouldn't feel right working for him, as he's so high and mighty, now he's been to Oxford and has worked in London for years."
"Dad just look at it like any other job. You're there to do some work for him, leave it at that."
"When did you get so smart?"
"I learned everything I know from my dear old dad." Ben said smiling softly at the man he loved more than any other.
"Okay, okay I'll go after I've finished at the jobsite tonight, but if he starts putting on airs and graces, I'm out of there."
"Well, can you pick me up from here before you go? I'd like to see the inside of the house, and I could try and keep you out of trouble too." Ben said waggling his eyebrows.
"Cheeky bugger." Carl laughed. "Yeah, okay then son, thanks, I'll pick you up, it wouldn't take me much out of my way, anyway."
After grabbing a quick lunch, Carl dropped his son off at the middle school; Ben would be moving up to St Winifred's high school after the summer. Carl then headed off to the shop he was in the middle of re-fitting. Ben was right, they could definitely use the money, work had been a bit thin on the ground recently, and the van was likely to die on them at any minute, and with no transport, that would mean the end of the business.
Carl began to muse once again on his friendship with Robbie, or Rob as he insisted on being called. "My friends call me Rob, and you're my best friend." Carl remembered the conversation as if it were yesterday. Although Carl was no slacker when it came to academics, he had to struggle bloody hard in order to make the grade, whereas the knowledge seemed to seep straight into Robbie's head. The boy only had to look at the textbook once and it was absorbed.
Carl could never figure out why Robbie had turned on him so quickly. They'd knocked around with one another for years. He just couldn't understand the crap that he'd come out with about them not being the same social class. Hadn't he listened to Robbie go on and on about how stupid the class system was? Thoughts of his former friend occupied Carl's mind for the remainder of the afternoon. When his digital watch bleeped, indicating knocking-off time, Carl packed away his tools, the job would be completed in another day or two. He hoped the shop owner would be a prompt payer, as the electricity bill was overdue, and the money was needed for several other things, too.
Carl carried his toolboxes into the van and made his way to Robbie's house via his own to pick up Ben.
"You'll be fine, dad. Don't worry." Ben told his father just before they alighted from the van.
From an upstairs window, Robbie saw Carl's van arrive, he began to question again the wisdom of inviting his old friend to the house. As he walked down the stairs to meet Carl, Robbie had to wipe his hands several times, they'd grown more than a little sweaty.
"Come in." Robbie said opening the door after Carl had rapped on the large oak panel door with the oversized brass doorknocker. Robbie's heart was pounding loudly in his chest, he hoped his nervousness at meeting up with Carl wasn't too evident on his face.
"You wanted an estimate for some joinery work, Mr Foster?" Carl said, all businesslike.
The formality of Carl's greeting pained Robbie. "Err, yes."
Carl's words weren't the only things to stun him though. If anything the years had made Carl even more gorgeous than he had been as a teenager. Carl had obviously just come from his latest job, he had a few stray wood shavings in his hair, Robbie so wanted to reach up into his former friends dark blonde tresses and comb away the wood shavings. Carl looked totally magnificent standing on the doorstep, his feet were placed a little apart from one another, his chiselled angular jaw was firmly set. Robbie could see that Carl had lost none of his former muscular physique, He could discern the shape of Carl's chest through the thin blue checked work shirt, the two top buttons of which were open to reveal a healthy carpet of chest hair and those oh so broad shoulders. Not to mention the thick arms that extended from the rolled up shirtsleeves. Robbie had to swallow before he could speak again.
In a voice that he hoped was under control, Robbie said, "Right, please come in. I see you've brought an assistant?"
"Yes, this is my son, Ben." Carl said stepping over the threshold.
Ben had watched the interplay between his parent and Robbie closely. Ben was a quiet observer of life; he liked to think that he was a good judge of character. He'd heard the stories from his father about his former boyhood best friend so many times; he found it most interesting to finally come face to face with him.
"I'm very pleased to meet you, Ben." Robbie said extending out a hand.
Ben had no hesitation in accepting the proffered hand; he shook it warmly.
Carl cast his professional eye over the place. Nothing seemed to have changed since his last visit, the hallway did look a little shabby, it could do with sanding back down to the bare timbers and re-varnishing.
After concluding their business, Robbie thought he'd try one last time to extend the olive branch.
"Can you stay for a cup of coffee and maybe a bite to eat?"
"No, sorry, we've got things to do." Carl said making for the front door. As far as Ben knew they didn't have any plans for the evening, but he silently followed his father towards the door. "I'll put a quote in the post to you within the next couple of days."
"If I accept your quote, how soon can you start?" Robbie asked, not sure if he'd accept the quote anyway.
Carl puffed out his cheeks; he knew full well that his workbook was rather empty, but he didn't want to tell Robbie that. "Erm, difficult to say, I'll have to consult the diary. Hopefully not too long though."
"Right." Robbie went past them and opened the door for them. "Thanks for coming Carl, Ben." He smiled at them, though Carl didn't return the gesture.
Robbie stood on the doorstep and watched them drive away. "I was wrong all those years ago, Carl, I'm sorry, but it was hard enough seeing you walking around the school with Maureen on your arm, I couldn't be near you because of that." Robbie said to the empty driveway.
In the van neither Carl nor Ben spoke. Ben thought how nice and big the house was; a bit old-fashioned and in need of restoration, but he loved the high ceilings and the intricate moulded coving.
Carl was mulling over how different his humble home was in comparison to that of Robbie's. He'd noticed the pain in his former friend's eyes when he'd called him Mr Foster, Carl had regretted doing it as soon as the words had left his lips. It was odd though; Robbie had given him another one of those intense looks that he used to give him before casting his eyes downwards. Carl wondered if he should try and build a few bridges with his former friend. 'Though why did Rob dump me like a hot potato?' He asked himself for the thousandth time.
"It's a nice house, dad." Ben said when the two were sat opposite one another at their kitchen table eating their tea. Carl wasn't much of a cook, so they had pork sausages and baked beans on toast, again! Ben knew that they had cookery classes at St Winifred's; he determined to put his name down for them.
"Yeah it is. I used to love going up there." Carl grew quiet remembering all the times he and Robbie had spent together studying, or just talking in Robbie's room. Carl couldn't help admit that he missed those times a great deal.
Robbie had been invited to spend the evening with his mother. So at a little after 7 pm, he put on some smart clothing; he couldn't visit his mother in jeans and T-shirt. He set out in the car to drive to her new bungalow.
"It's not a bad place this, mum." Robbie said after kissing her cheek. "Though it's a bit small."
"Anything would be small compared to the house, Robert. Though I don't need a place with six bedrooms, just this one here is enough for me." She treated her son to the guided tour.
"I'm sure you'll be comfortable enough here."
"At least it'll be warm, that old house is so draughty."
Robbie smiled. Maybe he could ask Carl to try and do something about the draughts, too. He'd decided he'd accept Carl's quote no matter what he asked. "I know it can be a bit cold in the winter months."
"Are you settling in okay?"
"Oh yes, it's great. You know I've always loved the old place. Listen mum, I'm thinking about moving back up here to live permanently. I like London, but I think it's time I settled down here again."
"That's wonderful." Gloria said enthusiastically.
The two spent a pleasant evening together. When the subject of their supper came up, Robbie asked his mother if she fancied having fish and chips, a meal he often craved when he lived in London. The Londoners just couldn't cook the things right to his way of thinking.
Robbie went out to get Haddock and Chips from the fish shop at the end of his mother's street. They then sat and ate the food out of the newspaper. Robbie began to feel more and more comfortable with his decision to move back up north.
"Okay, I better be making a move, mum. There's nothing you need is there?" He said standing up and looking at the sixty-five year old woman, her hair had turned white a few years earlier, but she still had that spark in her eyes that belied her years.
"Oh no, son, I've got everything I need, things are so much more handy now I live near town."
Robbie kissed his mother on the cheek, made his way out of the bungalow and drove home.
Over the course of the next couple of weeks, things began to settle down for Robbie back in his new home.
The pool was finally back in commission; Ian and Ralph had dropped the hint that the pool really needed to be tended to on a weekly basis, so Robbie agreed to give them the maintenance contract. Robbie had almost caught the pair inflagrante delicto a number of times; this amused more than annoyed him.
After Carl's second day of working at the house, Robbie invited the sweating man to take a shower and go and have a swim in the pool. Carl was at first hesitant. "I haven't brought a pair of trunks."
"You can borrow a pair of mine. We're near enough to the same size I think." Robbie said casting his eyes downwards to Carl's middle. He could see that even soft, Carl had a decent enough bulge down there.
Robbie went up to his room, changed into his own suit and brought a rather nice pair of Speedos down for Carl. The latter went into one of the two small changing rooms off the pool area, took a shower, then he emerged into the main pool room, the water droplets still coursing down his awesome frame. Robbie, who was already in the pool, silently gasped at how buff his former friend had become. Clearly the passage of time had done nothing but enhance the man's physique. Robbie was glad that he'd elected to wear a fairly baggy pair of swim trunks.
Carl did a few laps of the pool, Robbie marvelling at the man's speed as he cut effortlessly through the water.
"Thanks." Carl said when he'd spent about ten minutes in the pool. He got out and went into the changing room.
When Carl re-emerged in his street clothes, Robbie said, "Listen Carl, if you and Ben want to come over and use the pool sometime, you'd be very welcome."
Robbie saw a strange look come into Carl's eyes at his comment. He couldn't read it because Carl had turned away and left the poolroom without another word. Robbie, who was still in his trunks, went after him.
"Carl, is anything wrong?"
"No mate, no. I've got to get off now. Ben will be at mum's, I've got to pick him up. He wants to go out for some fast food tonight. Neither of us can cook all that well, so we treat ourselves once a week to a take-away.
"Right." Robbie hesitated before making his next statement. "Listen, if you and Ben want to come over to use the pool in the evenings, let me know in advance, and you could stop for tea as well." Robbie put up his hand. "Sorry, Carl, I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable, I know that we ended our friendship badly, I just..." Robbie trailed off, he didn't know what else to say.
"Yeah. I'll think about it."
"Thanks." Robbie said as he watched his former friend walk down the main hallway and out of the front door.
As he drove to his mother's house, Carl's mind was in a quandary. He so much wanted to get something back of the friendship he had with Robbie, but what if he turns cold again? Carl didn't have the answers. Though the thought of Ben being able to use the pool was a nice gesture, one that could help him. The new medication had helped Ben a little, and Carl had been really strict about his son tackling the exercises, though it broke his heart when he saw the pain written on Ben's face when the latter attempted some of the trickier manoeuvres. Carl had taken Ben to the local pool, they'd both had a great time splashing one another, and Ben seemed better able to move in the water. Though as they were leaving the building both spotted the notice telling them that due to cutbacks the pool was to be closed in less than a month.
Carl drew up outside his mother's house and beeped his horn. Ben, who had been waiting for his parent to arrive, walked stiffly down the garden path and slowly got into the van.
"You okay, love?" Carl asked.
"It's been really painful all day today, dad."
"I'm sorry. We'll stop off and get some food, then you can take one of your tablets, that might help a bit?"
"Yeah, thanks."
Ben was a little quieter than normal. He wasn't an outgoing kid at the best of times, but he was even quieter than usual. The two had decided on Chinese, so they headed to 'The Golden Dragon'.
Once Carl had parked the van back at home, he watched in concern as Ben slowly extricated himself from the vehicle. "It breaks my heart to see you in pain."
"I know, dad. It's not been a good day. I've not known it be as bad as this."
The two made their way into the house; Carl fussed around getting plates, knives and forks etc ready. Carl gave Ben his bottle of pills, Ben taking one with a sip of Coke.
"Did you have a good day at work, dad?" Ben asked as they began eating.
This was part and parcel of their usual routine. Unlike many parents and their children, Carl and Ben enjoyed a good rapport.
"Not bad, there's such a lot of wooden flooring, not to mention all that dark oak panelling to treat. He's been lucky though, there's no sign of dry rot."
"That's good. You been getting on alright with Rob?"
Carl chewed a mouthful of food before answering. "Yeah, we seem to be getting on okay. He asked me if you and me wanted to go up and have a swim in his pool one evening. He said we could stop for tea too."
"That'd be ace!"
"Yeah." Carl said quietly.
"What?"
"Oh probably nothing, I just don't want him to get all friendly and then dump us like he did with me last time. It wouldn't be fair on you, because you'd get so much out of the pool."
"Why should he dump us?"
"Dunno, but he did last time."
"Did you fight about anything, I mean did either of you upset the other?"
"No, not at all. We always got on great. Rob was always such a great friend."
"I don't know dad, there must have been a reason why he stopped talking to you."
"All he said was that he and me would be going in different directions from then on. I can't understand it. I'd just met your mum, and we'd started to see each other. We weren't going out or anything serious, but we'd just had our first date."
"Did you tell Rob that, about mum I mean?"
"Oh yeah. She sort of let me touch her you know?" Carl blushed; he wasn't sure why he'd imparted that bit of information to his son.
Ben, although only twelve years of age, had an idea. He'd always been a quiet boy, very studious, he liked to sit and observe. He'd have to think about it further, but he thought he knew what had caused the rift between his dad and his best friend.
"You okay, Ben?"
"Err, yeah, sorry dad." Ben resumed eating, a plan forming in his brain. "I'd like to go and swim at Rob's house if that's okay. It'd also mean we got something different to eat too. I wonder if grandma could drop me off at the house after school one day? Then I could swim while you finished your work, and then you could join me."
"Sounds like a good idea. Rob has a nice pool. You don't have to dodge round other people like you do in the public one."
"Great, ask Rob if we can come over in a couple of days, then."
"Okay."
The two ate the rest of their meal in comparative silence. Carl hoping that he could rebuild a friendship, and Ben planning to build the friendship into something much more.
Carl and Ben settled themselves down to watch TV in the front room. They seemed to like the same shows, a Police drama was playing on BBC1, they decided to watch it.
"Can't you get comfy?" Carl asked. Their sofa was old, the stuffing was coming out, and in fact the only thing holding in the springs were the stretch cushion covers.
"No, damned cushions." Ben said plumping up a scatter cushion.
"Come here then." Carl said. He was at the other end of the lumpy sofa. When Ben stood up, Carl stretched his feet over the whole sofa and opened his legs. Ben planted himself in the space between his father's legs, and rested his aching back against his dad's firm chest. Carl then loosely wrapped his arms around his son, cocooning the lad with his strength. Ben let out a long sigh of happiness.
"Okay now?" Carl asked softly.
"Yeah." Ben burrowed a little deeper into the safe embrace. Ben was where he wanted to be; he couldn't think of a nicer place. Carl, too, loved these intimate moments with his son. Some of the guys on the building sites where he occasionally found work would rib him about how he should find himself another woman. However, Carl had never been that interested. He had to take care of Ben. Of course he knew his mother would baby-sit if he asked her. She relished being able to spoil her only grandson, but after Maureen's departure, Carl didn't want to risk it. He had loved Maureen, he was sure of that, but it had never been the all-encompassing romantic love so favoured by Hollywood.
Carl went out drinking with the lads every other week or so. He enjoyed the camaraderie of being with his mates. That, along with these most precious evenings alone with his son, completed his existence.
The TV programme hadn't lived up to it's billing. Both had grown bored with the show after half an hour.
"Want to watch something else?" Carl eventually asked.
"Nah. Can we just stay sitting like this?"
"Sure." Carl picked up the remote and switched the set off.
After a few minutes of silence Ben asked. "Dad? Did you ever want me to be more like you?"
"Erm, no, why?"
"Well, I mean, did you ever want me to be good at sport? I've seen all the cups and medals you got when you were at school. I'm not going to be able to win anything like that."
"I guess everyone wants the best for their kids, but what was best for me, needn't be the same for you."
"No, guess not."
"What brought all that on?" Carl questioned.
"Oh, I don't know. I just didn't want to ever be a disappointment to you."
"Ben, you could never be that." Carl said, giving his son a squeeze. "You are you, special and unique."
Ben was for the most part a well-balanced young lad, a little more studious than his peers, but like any other boy, he needed to be reminded every now and again that he was loved.
Carl thought these moments of intimacy with his son were the most precious of times. He believed that once Ben got a bit older he wouldn't want to cuddle up with his dad anymore. Carl had felt that when he himself reached his teenage years, he had to become a man, and so he resisted his own father's attempts to hug him. Carl now realised that he'd missed out by so distancing himself. He hoped that he'd be able to understand Ben's own need for independence when the time came.
Ben yawned. "I think I'll turn in, dad."
"Okay, sweetheart. You want to have a hot bath first? Might help your back."
"Yeah, I think I will."
"Leave your water in then, son, and I'll go in after you."
"Okay, dad."
Ben eased himself forward, but he turned round to face his father, he then wrapped his own arms around his dad's chest. "Love you so much, dad." He treated Carl to a kiss on the cheek, and then he got up and went upstairs to the bathroom.
"Don't grow up, Ben, please." Carl said quietly to the empty room. "I wish I could keep you just as you are now."
Carl turned the set back on and re-tuned to the evening news. Nothing much in the outside world had changed, politicians were still asking the public to believe everything they told them, there was yet another murder in Northern Ireland, the Israelis and Palestinians were still in disagreement.
When Ben called his dad telling him that the bathroom was free, Carl turned off the set, checked that the doors and windows were locked, he went round switching all the downstairs lights off, and then he ascended the stairs.
After bathing, Carl poked his head around Ben's bedroom door. Seeing the covers all disarranged, he straightened them out and pulled them to Ben's chin.
"Night, dad." Ben said quietly.
"Night, son. Sleep tight."
"And don't let the bedbugs bite." Ben said in reply.
Although he hadn't done it in some time, Carl bent down and kissed his son's forehead before leaving the room.
To be continued