How the Coronavirus Jump-Started my Sex Life - 29. Chapter 29

A Homecoming, or Cookout on the Driveway

We pulled up to the curb at our sprawling hacienda-style house at about twenty past 11. Fortunately, the driveway is wide enough for two vehicles and long enough for about four end-to-end. Obviously, the family had been busy setting up for our meeting. About a third of the driveway extended beyond a sizable pile of boxes that were stacked basically blocking the drive beyond that point.

“Gee,” Alan muttered, “I hope we can get all that into the back.”

“Yeah, me, too,” I added.

Alan backed the Durango into the center of the driveway and back until only about 6 feet remained between the rear bumper and the boxes.

“Here we go,” I announced as I opened the car door.

We got out and walked to the back of the Durango. On the other side of the row of boxes were two slung canvas chairs facing the house with TV tray tables standing beside them. Twenty feet further up the concrete span sat a row of 5 similar chairs with TV tray tables nearby. And off to the side of the driveway furthest from the house and halfway between the two sections of chairs sat a lone chair and TV tray table. In the center of this entire area stood a 6-foot-long table with buns, plates, cups, utensils, napkins, and condiments lined up along the tabletop. Between the long row of chairs and the open garage door stood the outdoor grill and a table beside it. Just inside the garage facing us stood the speakers from Dad’s old stereo component system belting out the Eagle’s “Hotel California” to lend a festive air to the neighborhood. I was deeply impressed with all the thought and effort they’d obviously put into this event. Of course, it was weird to see all this with no people about.

“Wow,” Alan said softly. “I’d say they are looking forward to seeing you, dude.”

Glancing at him, I nodded since I was a little too choked up to speak at that moment.

We stood behind the boxes to survey all this for a minute or so. Finally, the door from the garage into the house opened and Dad came out, struggling a bit with his large Coleman cooler. He didn’t see us at first as he worked his way to the front of the garage, where he sat the cooler on the concrete before standing up straight.

“Dad!” I called, feeling guilty I couldn’t go help him with the cooler.

He looked up, a huge grin on his face. “Cal!” he shouted. “You guys are here!”

“Yeah!”

Just then Carrie burst out of door carrying a 10-pound bag of ice. She screamed and broke into a run between Dad’s Beemer and Mom’s Caddy. “Cal!” I couldn’t remember my sister ever being so happy to see me and it was really nice. It looked as if she would run all the way to us but Dad held his arms out to stop her at the edge of the garage. She gave him a dirty look but stopped beside him. She sat the icebag on the cooler and said to Dad, “I can go out to the chairs, right?”

“Yes, but promise me you’ll go no further.”

Reluctantly, she promised.

“Put the ice on the serving table and then step back to the chairs, please.”

In a rare act of obedience, Carrie did as instructed. As she promenaded up to the table, I noticed she was wearing very tight snow-white jeans that certainly showed her curvy figure. Her top was tight and powder blue, which brought out her eyes and showed that her boobs had grown somewhat sense the Christmas holidays when I’d last seen her. Her long blond hair cascaded over one shoulder but was carefully swept to the side so it didn’t block the view of her boobs. And she was wearing a lot of makeup for late morning. Obviously, little sister is working on becoming a hot young woman with quite a bit of success. Her mature look doesn’t quite jive with her continuing little-girl immaturity.

She stood several seconds beside the table after she set the icebag down. I couldn’t help but notice her frank appraisal of this new stud in her driveway, a coquettish smile complete with hair flip, and a saucy walk back to the chairs. Oh, brother, I thought. How long has she been practicing that?

“Hi, Sis,” I said. “This is Alan.”

“Hi, Alan,” she breathed like some kind of femme fatale. I had never heard that voice from my little sister.

In a moment Dad showed up with the cooler, which he placed at the end of the table. He opened it to reveal a bunch of soft drinks and, if I wasn’t mistaken, some bottles of Michelob Lite. Wow.

My guilt at just watching him work was building inside me.

“Dad, let me pour the ice in.”

He smiled at me. “Sure, son.”

He moved to a chair next to where Carrie was standing eye-balling Alan as if he was a prize bull.

I stepped up to the table, pulled out my Swiss Army pocket knife and sliced the heavy plastic bag, then dumped its contents atop the drinks, smoothing it out so I could close the lid. The kitchen garbage bin stood nearby, so I dropped the empty bag inside and retreated to the seating area obviously designated for Alan and me.

Dad smiled at Alan. “Welcome to our home, Alan. It’s great to meet you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Christensen. It’s nice to meet you all. I’m sorry I can’t shake your hand, sir.”

“Perhaps sometime soon, Alan.”

The house door burst open again and Cole bounded into and through the garage. “Cal!” he screamed when he saw me. “I can’t believe you’re here.” He hurried across the driveway carrying a tray of cheese slices, tomato slices, lettuce leaves, and onion slices. I prayed he wouldn’t drop the goodies in his enthusiasm. Dad intercepted him, whispered a reminder to stay back from us, and took the tray from him. Dad quickly deposited the tray on the table and stepped back to where his younger children stood nervously.

“Cole, this is my new roommate, Alan.”

“Hi, Alan,” he said rather shyly.

“Cole just became a teenager last week,” I told Alan.

“Hey, congratulations, Cole,” Alan called. “Becoming a teenager is a big deal.”

“It’s cool! I just wish Cal was here to help me out with some pointers with the ladies.”

“Oh, Jeez!” Carrie scoffed. “The main pointer you need is to leave the ladies alone!”

Alan’s facial expression showed a little surprise.

“Oh, lighten up, Carrie,” I said. “Cole just wants to treat the ladies right and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Yeah,” Cole sneered. “Some ladies are nice, unlike you!”

“Okay, that’s enough!” Dad said. Looking at us, he explained, “Even a special event like this isn’t good enough to get them to be civil with each other.” He sort of herded them together. “Please go tell your mother our guests are here and see how you can be helpful. There’ll be time to chat later.”

“See you guys later,” Cole said as he turned toward the house.

Carrie gave Alan a look as suggestive as if she’d licked her lips before turning back to the house. I laughed at her obviousness until I remembered it was me licking my lips when I first met Alan that had opened the door to our sexual adventure.

As the kids went back into the house, Dad enquired about our trip. After telling him it was easy and fun, I added, “We seem to have accidentally been at the Bosque when the Canadian geese decided to begin their migration to the north.”

“You don’t say?”

“It was the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen, Mr. Christensen,” Alan said.

“I’ll bet. I’ve lived here my whole life and never been there at just the right time to see that. You guys are really lucky.”

“Yes, we certainly are,” Alan agreed. “I can’t wait to tell my parents. They’ll be quite impressed.”

The door opened and Mom came out, carrying a large Pyrex casserole dish I figured held a batch of the best baked beans in the world. She had a great big smile as she marched through the garage and up to the serving table. As she placed the dish solidly on some hot pads on the table, she smiled up at me and glanced at Alan.

“Oh, boys, I am so happy you are here.”

“We are, too,” I responded. “Mom, this is my new roommate Alan.”

Mom gave him her warmest smile and held her hands out towards him. “I’m delighted to meet you, Alan. Welcome to our home, well, our driveway at least!”

We all laughed. Alan bowed slightly and said, “It’s a great pleasure, Ma’am.”

Carrie set down a large bowl of Mom’s excellent potato salad while Cole dropped a handful of serving utensils on the table.

Mom leaned down a little to Cole, “Honey, would you go get Grandma, please?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he nodded, then turned back into the garage.

With Mom’s arrival, I hadn’t noticed Dad slip back to the grill where he was now working to get it lit.

I swiveled toward the street when I heard the sound of a souped-up car pull up at the curb. I knew that sound well. “Josie!” I called when Joe Escondido’s head had cleared the top of his hot cherry-red Mustang.

“Callie!”

Joe started across the lawn toward us until Mom yelled out. “Joe! Your section is over there.” She pointed to the side of the driveway opposite where he was.

“Sure, Mrs. C,” he smiled. “Mom sent a dozen tamales for you and a dozen for Cal and Alan.” He held up two trays covered in aluminum foil.

“She is so thoughtful, Joe,” Mom said. “Please thank her a lot for us. Uhm, just set them here on the table.” To provide proper distancing, she stepped back to the row of chairs.

When he had done deposited the tamales, Joe found his designated chair. “Thanks so much for inviting me, Mrs. C.”

“We’re glad you could join us, Joe.”

“Hi, Joe,” Carrie sang in a sultry voice complete with batted eyes and a sort of torso-twist. She must be driving Dad crazy!

Glancing at Joe, I could read some interest in his eyes as he inspected my sister. I also saw Joe through her eyes which made me uncomfortable. I’ve always thought Joseph Escondido is handsome with his spectacular pouffant of black hair gelled to perfection so it doesn’t even tremble in a New Mexico wind, his fine dark eyes, and his chin that makes Henry Cavill look weak. Looking at him standing there, all 5-foot, 11-inches of smooth light brown skin stretched taut over the trim but firm musculature of a tennis star (which he is) wearing Purex-white tennis shorts that fit tight around his strong thighs and seductive glutes to reveal a full pouch I imagined was holding his big cojones and tasty chimichanga, I found myself drawn to him in a much more specific way than ever before. I pulled my eyes up only to have them fix on his firm pecs and muscular biceps as set off by his maroon New Mexico State University tee-shirt. Fuck, he looked so hot! I felt my penis twitch.

Down, boy, I thought. Not today!

Joe looked at me, smiling as if he’d caught me doing something I shouldn’t, and enquired about my friend. I introduced him to Alan, which launched the three of us into a conversation about how COVID was impacting our educations. Joe, who is attending NMSU there in Las Cruces and living at home anyway, was not impacted in as many ways as Alan and me but he still had some serious adjustments to make, chiefly the demise of his independence and social connections. Secretly, I felt very lucky to be in my circumstances where I’m actually sharing space, time, and bodily fluids with a nice guy who just happens to be my fantasy. Appraising Joe, I realized he could be my fantasy, too.

While we “boys” chatted, Carrie turned to her cell phone for company and was soon Facetiming with Sarah. After a couple of minutes, I saw Carrie turn her phone around so the screen faced us. She’s sending Sarah our images, I thought. Carrie turned her phone back to show her own face, played with it a bit, then turned it back on us for a while and then on Joe for a while. Don’t get in the way of horny teenaged girls, I thought.

While we talked, Cole came back into the garage with my grandmother. He had his arm extended to her like a perfect gentleman escorting an award-winning actress on the red carpet at the Oscars. Grandma looked as lovely as old ladies can with her gray hair styled in waves and a few curls around her head and full makeup. She was wearing a pretty pale blue A-line dress with her favorite silver squash blossom necklace and matching bracelet. Her chief concession to her age and the casualness of the event was her summer (white) orthotic shoes. Slowly, Cole led her through the garage and down to the family seating area where he deposited her in the chair on the end of the row.

I stood and waved to her. “Hi, Grandma! How are you doing?”

She tilted her head in a delicate nod to me. “Hello, Calvin. I am doing well, I’d say, except for the same thing that troubles everyone: This COVID situation.”

I nodded and smiled in solidarity. “It’s terrible, I know. I’m still grateful we’re all healthy and have good places to quarantine.”

“Of course,” she said. Then, looking at Alan, she asked, “And who is this handsome young man who is with you, Calvin?”

I grinned because I knew she knew who he was. I could also see her natural good manners guiding her question.

“This is Alan Kennedy, Grandma. He and I are ‘sharing the bubble’ during the pandemic, as they say.”

She nodded. “Mr. Kennedy, I am most pleased to meet you.”

“Thank you, Ma’am,” Alan replied. “I’m quite glad to meet you and the whole family.”

“I’m very grateful that Calvin has a nice companion such as you to go through this awful time with. It’s very unfortunate for anyone who must be isolated alone at this time. I truly cannot imagine how awful that would be.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Alan nodded. “I am grateful to have Cal in my bubble instead of being alone.”

“So am I, Grandma. I’m very glad that Alan and I found a place we can move to now that we have to vacate the dorm.”

“Indeed. As the Bible says in Ecclesiastes, Chapter 4:

Two are better than one,
Because they have a good reward for their labor.
For if they fall, one will lift up his companion.
But woe to him who is alone when he falls,
For he has no one to help him up.
Again, if two lie down together, they will keep warm;
But how can one be warm alone?
Though one may be overpowered by another, two can withstand him.
And a threefold cord is not quickly broken.”

“That’s really beautiful, Ma’am.”

“And fitting for the situation, Grandma.”

“Mr. Kennedy, I’m not one of those old ladies who does nothing but read the good book and recite verses all the time. As my grandson can attest, I can be crusty and, shall we say, earthy (?), at times. This just happens to be some of my favorite verses because they celebrate the love between two people, whether family, friends, or lovers, it doesn’t really matter.”

“Thank you, Ma’am, but please call me Alan.”

“As you wish, Alan. And you may call me Grandma or Grace, for that’s my given name. Whatever suits you.”

“I appreciate that, uhm, Grandma.”

“I understand you are from Canada?”

“Uhm, yes. From Edmonton, Alberta.”

“Lovely place. To us uncultured citizens of the U.S., a city like Edmonton seems like Britain itself. As do Victoria and Ottawa. I have always had a spot in my heart for Canada and her citizens.”

“So, you’ve been to Edmonton, then?”

“Indeed, I have. My late husband, Arthur, was a professor of Mathematics at Vanderbilt University. He presented a paper at a conference in Edmonton one year and he allowed me to tag along. I have some good memories of that trip. After the meetings were over, we rented a car and drove around the province for a few days.”

Alan smiled. “I hope you got to go to the mountains.”

Grandma got a far-away look in her eyes and then smiled. “As it turned out, this conference coincided with our 25th wedding anniversary, so we took a week’s tour of Alberta to celebrate. We spent a day or two in Jasper, Lake Louise, and Banff. We even had the bridal suite at the Banff Hotel. It was elegance like I have never had, before or since.”

“Those are all beautiful places,” Alan said enthusiastically.

“They are, Alan. You should be very proud of your homeland.”

“I am. Thank you for sharing that with me, Ma’am.”

“I enjoyed reliving the memories with you,” Grandma smiled.

Mom came back into the garage with a plate filled with raw hamburger patties. Dad thanked her and took the plate. She came to sit for a few minutes while Dad began putting burgers on the grill.

Within about 10 minutes, Dad brought the plate full of grilled burgers to the serving table and said, “Lunch is served. I think we will allow our special guests from Albuquerque to build their burgers and fill their plates first, then Joe, you come through, and then we home folk will get our food.” He spoke a brief prayer of thanksgiving for the food and for each of us in attendance and when he had said “Amen,” he motioned to Alan and me to get up and come forward. As we did, he stepped back.

We created our burgers to our individual specifications, took generous helpings of potato salad and baked beans, grabbed a beer and retreated to our corner. Joe moved quickly through and then the family milled around the tables. Alan and I were nearly finished with the spectacular cook-out meal by the time Mom and Dad sat down and started eating.

Before taking a bite of her burger, Mom said, “I want to hear all about your new apartment, guys.”

While we finished our meal, we explained to everyone where we would be living and what the place was like. As we talked, I thought it sounded a bit fancy for a couple of broke college students, but it also sounded like a great place to live, especially during the remainder of the lockdown.

When we had finally exhausted the topic of the loft apartment, Dad wanted to know about prospects for work. Mom, Dad, Joe, Alan, and I had a pretty thorough discussion of the possibilities and we all agreed it’s not an ideal time to seek a job with so many places closed at this time. The consensus was that Alan would have a good option with delivery services and that my best options would likely be in landscaping or possibly local construction work unless I could find an online job that could be done from home. I hadn’t thought about that, so said I would look into it beginning this week.

Next, we discussed the changes in our educational systems with Joe, Alan and me, Carrie, and Cole all beginning online classes tomorrow. No one could really predict how this was going to work and all of us were a little concerned and stressed about navigating new systems and trying to overcome obstacles we couldn’t quite anticipate at the moment.

Eventually, Mom took Carrie into the house to get dessert ready while the rest of us dumped our garbage into the can in our respective lockdown groupings.

Joe filled me in on the gossip from high school, most of which was vague, silly, and not necessarily true. He was sure that Jeff Greenlee had popped the question to Allyson Morgan recently and they were considering a June wedding if the COVID restrictions lifted soon enough. Everyone was just “sure” Ally was “with child,” but Joe didn’t think so.

“Why wait 3 months if that’s the case. Just elope.”

Dad told me that the father of his partner, the handsome Geoff Overmeyer, was hospitalized last week with COVID. He was put on a ventilator yesterday, Dad reported. This was the first actual person I had known with the dreaded disease and I didn’t actually know him.

Mom brought out a large tray holding 8 bowls of her homemade cherry cobbler. Carrie followed with a handful of spoons and a 5-gallon container of vanilla bean ice cream. The tray, spoons, and ice cream were set on the serving table and Alan and I invited to begin, which we were happy to do.

Everybody took the cobbler and ice cream and Carrie returned the ice cream to the freezer. It seemed to me she was happy to have the opportunity to parade her budding womanhood in front of the two available studs at the party. For a few minutes no one talked as we concentrated on the delicious cobbler. When Alan and I were done, I set our bowls back on the serving table.

“Dad, I wanted to tell you there were quite a few people camping at Elephant Butte last night. Most had big RV rigs, but some had tents and some had pop-up tent trailers.”

“Lots of people?” Dad asked.

“I’d say the campgrounds were two-thirds or three-quarters full.”

“I wouldn’t expect many during the lockdown.”

“There were several nuclear families. You know, Mom and Dad, a dog, and 2.4 kids.”

Dad and a couple of others chuckled.

“It actually looked like a pretty good way to get out of the house for a while without breaking all the COVID lockdown protocols.”

“Yes, I can see that,” he nodded. “Food for thought.”

Glancing at my cell, I saw it was almost 2:15. “I guess we’d best get loaded up so we can start back soon,” I announced to the crowd. Amidst some disappointed comments, Alan and I began moving everything from the driveway into the Durango. The assembled boxes filled the SUV to within about 6 inches of the ceiling, but it all fit! When we were done, Alan pulled out a small box and I grabbed the sack containing chiles and salsa we’d gotten in Hatch. By this time, the serving table was empty except for one of the packages of tamales and a six-pack sized cooler Mom said had beans, potato salad, and cobbler in it.

I took the bag of chiles out of the sack, held it up so all could see, and said, “We stopped in Hatch on the way down and picked up a bag of chiles for you.” There were mild cheers and applause. I set the bag on the table and pulled out the bottle of salsa. “And special Hatch salsa, too.” More applause and shouts.

I gestured for everyone to pay attention to Alan. He opened the small box, pulled out the wrapped pot, and said, “Mrs. C., in thanks for all the goodies you have given us for the apartment and for this great meal and good time today, we got you a Jemez pot to add to your collection.”

She gasped as he pulled the newspaper off the pot and held it up.

Mom was so surprised I thought she might cry. Stumbling over her words, she thanked Alan profusely and said she loved the pot and would put it in a prominent place.

A few minutes later, it felt very strange to say goodbye to Joe and the family without any hugs or even handshakes, but we did.

As we drove away, I felt at that moment that I had the best family in the world.