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.
Timothy - 11. Chapter 11
Our lives became routine. Running in the morning, followed by a shower and the games we played confirming our love for each other. If Randy were with us, we would shower in our separate apartments. I’m sure Randy had an idea of what happens between Stephen and me.
Saturdays were workdays. Stephen, Randy, and I kept Mrs. Kenner’s home looking like it came from a magazine. We had the lawns a healthy green, with no weeds or dandelions. The flower beds were weedless, and the beds were mulched. On occasion, Stephen or I would see a plant that either had a flower we didn’t have or a plant that we liked. We would plant them and then see how long it would take Mrs. Kenner to notice them.
On occasions when Mom and Dad visited, they would bring a plant. It was generally a plant from their garden. Mom would say it’s a little bit of home.
Mrs. Kenner never made any comments about our yard work or the flowers we planted. When we started a herb garden, she commented that she missed her husband’s herb garden, and when he died, so did his herbs. “Thanks, Timothy and Stephen. I’m glad you boys have planted this herb garden. I missed having fresh herbs.” Mrs. Kenner was a woman who expected that when you said something, it would be so. Commenting on our herb garden must have brought memories of her husband.
School was going well for the three of us. When we had the Easter break, I took Stephen, Randy, and his mother to my home. I invited Mrs. Kenner, but she said she had already made plans. This would be the first time I had invited Stephen to my home, and I didn’t want Randy and his mom not to have family around for Easter.
Arriving, I gave them a quick tour of our small town as I drove to my home. I could see the smile on Randy’s mom’s face. I would bet she came from a small town.
Easter at our house starts with watching the sunrise. I made sure our guests understood we would be getting up early on Easter morning. Again the smile on Randy’s mom’s face. I hadn’t talked a lot with her when we were at their apartment. Stephen talked, and I listened.
Arriving home, Mom met us at the door with my youngest sister. I knew my older sister wouldn’t be here. “Mom, you remember Stephen, Mrs. Olman, and her son Randy. Eva, this is my boyfriend, Stephen.” I watched Eva’s eyebrows go up when I mentioned my boyfriend. Eva knew I was gay. I told her when I was in high school. I don’t think she expected me to have a boyfriend after Donnie. She was a comfort to me when I heard Donnie was killed.
Mom had sorted everyone out, Mrs. Olman would sleep in the spare room, and we guys would sleep in my room. Dad brought in two camping bedrolls for Stephen and Randy. I laughed as I got the message, Stephen would not be sharing my bed.
Friday, I showed Stephen and Randy around our small town. Randy wanted to see my high school. I showed him the school and where we fished. I drove by Ronnie’s dad’s place, telling them that was where I learned to milk goats. I stopped at their stand in front of their house and bought some goat cheese. Ronnie’s mom came out when she saw me. There were tears in her eye when she hugged me. I introduced Stephen and Randy as my college friends. I had to explain that Randy was a student that we tutored. When we left with our cheeses, I hugged her and whispered, “Ronnie will always live in my heart, and I’m sure he lives in yours.” She hugged me tighter, and I could feel her tears wetting my shirt. I understood her pain.
Driving home, I was quiet, remembering Ronnie. Stephen knew some things, but he would wait until I was ready to tell him about Ronnie. Randy wanted to know why the woman was crying. I told him her son was killed when he was in the army.
Arriving home, Randy told his mother about seeing the high school, fishing creek, and stopping at the goat farm for cheese. She asked him if he would like to go to high school here instead of the city. I looked at Mom and Eva when she asked Randy about high school. I saw Eva smile, and I knew they discussed Randy’s mother’s illness when we were gone. The short of it, Randy would be going to my high school, and his mother would stay with my folks under the watchful eyes of Eva.
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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.
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