Jump to content
  • Join Gay Authors

    Join us for free and follow your favorite authors and stories.

    CLJobe
  • Author
  • 1,467 Words
  • 3,116 Views
  • 18 Comments
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The Coffee Shop - 2. Chapter 2

I followed Paul as he turned onto a snowy sidewalk leading to a two-story home with a large front porch. The sidewalk and driveway were covered with snow. Paul looked at me and smiled. He stooped over as if he dropped something, and the next thing I saw was a snowball heading my way. I had to reciprocate, and a snowball battle ensued. I shivered a little, and Paul caught it. “Come on, let’s go inside and get warm.”

I followed Paul into a laundry room, where he took off his coat and shoes. “You can hang your coat here and put your shoes on the rack next to mine. With all the snow you threw at me, my shoes are wet, and my coat is now white.”

Of course, mine was in the same condition. Walking into the kitchen, the home was warm and inviting. There was something here that was different from my home. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I felt relaxed here and not tense as I did at my house.

We had a glass of milk and a few ginger snaps, “Paul, if your mom is coming home, we should try and get the driveway cleared. It’ll make it easier for her than to track through all that snow.”

It didn’t take us long to clear the driveway. While we were out there, the next-door neighbor came out onto her porch and yelled hello to Paul. “Hello, Mrs. Cranston. How are you?”

“Are you home for a while, Paul?”

“Just for the school break, I’ll be going back in 2 weeks. Mrs. Cranston, don’t worry about your driveway. Tim and I will clear it for you as soon as we’re done here.”

It didn’t take us long to clear the driveway and walks. Paul nodded his head toward his neighbor, and I shook my head yes. Again with two people shoveling snow, we were finishing up as Paul’s mother came home. “Paul, come and help unload the car.”

“Paul has a little more to do for Mrs. Cranston, something about the back porch. I’ll help you if it’s alright.”

“Sure, Tim; your arms are just as good as Paul’s.”

I was carrying in the last bag of groceries when Paul came to take it from me. Laughing, “Now you come after the job is done.”

Following the same routine as when we first arrived, wet clothes were hung in the wet room. Our socks and pants were soaked as well, “Take your socks and pants off. I’ll bring down a pair of shorts you can wear if you don’t have anything in your bag.”

I took out a dry pair of jeans and put them on. Going into the kitchen, Paul began to put the groceries away while his mom started dinner. I asked if I could help, but she said no, talk to her. I didn’t know what to say. “Thank you for letting me stay tonight. I hadn’t made any arrangements to stay anywhere as I wasn’t sure what time I’d be arriving.”

“That isn’t a problem. Any friend of Paul’s is always welcome here. Wait till his friends find out he’s home. You’ll be surprised how many will end up staying over.”

“Tim, come with me, and I’ll show you the layout and the guest room.”

I followed Paul upstairs. He showed me his room. There were trophies for a variety of sports, baseball, soccer, basketball, and football. I remarked that he had a lot of trophies, “You must have been very active in your school’s sports programs.”

“Yes, I enjoyed playing various sports. You make a lot of friends that way besides being good exercise both physically and mentally. Do you play any sports?”

“Yes, pretty much the same as you but not soccer. Our school did not have a soccer team, but they had a swimming team instead. I think of all the sports I played, I liked swimming the best.”

“Did your school do well in sports?”

“Yes, we were regional champions for several years in basketball and swimming. We did well in the other sports but never held championships while I was attending.”

“Come, and I’ll show you your room.”

I followed him across the hall to the guest room. He then showed me where the bathroom was located. I put my bag in the guest room and followed Paul to the living room. He turned on the TV, and we watched a sports program showing the highlights of the various games for the week.

Paul went into the kitchen to help his mom while I stayed and watched the game highlights. My eyes saw the TV, but my mind was focused on what tomorrow was going to bring. As I thought about it, I began to cry softly. I didn’t know that Paul had returned and saw me sobbing. “What’s wrong, Tim?”

“Nothing, I think I got something in my eye.” That was a lie, but I couldn’t tell Paul why I was crying. He might get mad and ask me to leave. I had no place to go, and I wasn’t sure what I’d do.

“Tim, talk to me, and if I can help you, I will. Tell me why you were on that bus.”

“I can’t. You have been nice to me, and if I tell you, you’ll hate me and ask me to leave. If I can stay the night, I’ll leave in the morning.”

I didn’t know when I told Paul that, his mother was in the doorway, listening. When I looked up, I saw her, and I started to cry. I was so afraid that she was going to react like my parents and ask me to leave. I got up and went and got my bag. As I came down the stairs, Paul asked me what I was doing.

“I don’t want to embarrass you and your mother, so I’ll leave.”

“No, you’re not going anywhere tonight. It’s cold outside, and you’d freeze to death. Now sit down and tell me what’s going on with you.”

Paul sat down on the sofa and indicated that I should sit next to him. His mother came in with two cups of hot chocolate and a coffee. She sat down on the sofa next to me. Putting an arm around my shoulders, “Tim, whatever happened, we’ll try and work something out for you. We’re not bad people. We’ll help you all that we can. Trust us, tell us your story.”

I figured I had nothing to lose, so I told them the full story. Nothing but silence followed. I knew I’d be asked to leave. Then I felt two sets of arms around my shoulders. For an instant, I was confused, and then it dawned on me, they weren’t going to ask me to leave.

Paul’s mother turned my face towards hers. Her eyes were misty, and she looked like she was ready to cry. “Tim, you need to understand something. Paul’s dad left us when Paul told him that he was gay. I could never do that to Paul. I love him as he is. I’m proud to be his mother, and as long as I’m alive, I’ll love him. I’m sorry your parents behaved the way they did. You can stay here as long as you want. Provided you finish school and keep the driveway clear of snow.”

I looked deep into her eyes and saw compassion and truth. I couldn’t believe my luck. I silently said a prayer to God, thanking him for delivering me to these people. I couldn’t say anything at the moment. I just hugged Paul’s mother, and sobbing, said thank you.

“Now that everything is out in the open when’s dinner Mom.”

After dinner, as I was lying in bed, rethinking everything that happened, Paul knocked on my door and came into the room. He sat on the edge of the bed. “I want to talk about what you told us tonight. I know it must have been very traumatic for you to relive your parent’s reaction. I’m here for you. I know what you’re feeling as a gay man, and I can help you to realize that we’re as we are meant to be. We’re born this way, and it isn’t a disease. If you have any questions or thoughts you want to discuss, come to me. I probably have gone through some of what you’re thinking or questioning. I’m here for you.”

”Thank you, Paul. I appreciate what you and your mom are doing for me. I’m sad that a stranger’s family has shown more concern than my own family. I’ll never fully understand where all that hate could come from someone who believes in a loving God.”

Copyright © 2020 CLJobe; All Rights Reserved.
  • Like 28
  • Love 18
  • Sad 7
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
You are not currently following this author. Be sure to follow to keep up to date with new stories they post.

Recommended Comments

Chapter Comments

On 12/13/2020 at 11:56 AM, Chris L said:

CLJobe replied to my last post with the question - is it the parent's or the teacher - and couldn't have said it any better. An amazing story of love and compassion from those with pure caring hearts. Why is so much hate taught in the institutions of religion when it's just the opposite of what the true head of those institutions exemplified throughout his life? For whatever reason, it made me remember as a young child sitting in a worship service and watching as they asked a homeless person to leave because the individual was making others uncomfortable for just sitting there listening. Talk about hypocrisy.  

That beggars belief, how can a church turn away a homeless person? They are absolutely not Christian 😒

  • Like 1
View Guidelines

Create an account or sign in to comment

You need to be a member in order to leave a comment

Create an account

Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!

Register a new account

Sign in

Already have an account? Sign in here.

Sign In Now


  • Newsletter

    Sign Up and get an occasional Newsletter.  Fill out your profile with favorite genres and say yes to genre news to get the monthly update for your favorite genres.

    Sign Up
×
×
  • Create New...