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    Andr0gene
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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. 

Return to Sender - 22. Chapter 22 - Kai

A lazy Sunday morning...like it happened yesterday. 😉

CHAPTER 22 - Kai

Sunday was the first day we were truly alone. No calls or visitors. Just Adam and me.

I first heard him when he rose just before seven, the floorboards creaking as he made his way to the bathroom, then coming down the stairs. I’d been awake for a long while - though instead of rising (I did open the doors to the deck, and the curtains) I remained in bed just listening to the sounds from outside and indoors, dozing off a few times. I heard Adam talking to Arya when he let her out and about half a minute later, I registered her paws on the deck, approaching. When that cute, intelligent head of hers peeked around the door and she saw me awake, she came in and approached, then reared up, front paws on my bed, tail swishing.

“Hey beautiful,” I greeted her, patting her head. Then Adam stuck his head around the door from the dining room, trying to do so quietly. “And there’s another one,” I chuckled to Arya.

He looked … edible - Ugh … with his hair all mussed up, that just woken up, sleepy look still over him, eyes slightly hooded and then a stifled yawn. I would be all over that had we woken together. Well, I’d probably wake him up myself, but all I could hope for, for the time being, was a repeat of the previous morning.

“Mmm, morning,” he murmured, coming in. He shuddered, eying the opened doors. “It’s cold in here.” He slipped his hands into the pockets of his bathrobe.

No it wasn’t - it was wonderfully cool in here! But I could certainly help if he was cold.

“Hi,” I returned, softly and patted next to me. “C’mere.”

He came and sat, but this time, no need to prompt him to lie down. Shivering again, he lay down facing me and snuggled right into me. “Good morning.”

“Mmm,” he returned, inhaling deeply. “You awake long?”

“About an hour or little longer.”

“If you want, you can let Arya out when you’re awake. She loves running around the house.” He yawned, making me yawn in turn. It was infectious.

“And have her take a dump in the yard?” I chuckled.

“She doesn’t. She waits for it until we go out on a walk. I did manage to teach her that. She’ll do a whizzywaz though.”

“A what?”

“A whizzywaz. She’ll urinate at the edge of the property, by the fence. She’s probably there right now.” I hadn’t noticed she'd snuck out again. “A lady doesn't want such things out in the open and known.”

“Very proper,” I snickered, stretching against him, rubbing his back. Good - he liked to cuddle. So do I. I like it very much, in fact. I pressed my lips on his temple. And when I did that, he moved his head back a little, then offered his mouth. Now that was perfect! I kissed him. Well, I tried to - he broke contact almost right away.

“No one’s coming, right?”

I guffawed at that and shook my head. “Nope. We’re in the clear. Why … you have something in mind?”

He smiled. “Just asking.”

“Ahuh. Come here, you.”

His mouth was welcoming and he tasted wonderfully sweet - the perfect start of the day. And after a good long while, when Adam indicated he wanted to sit up, I let him go. But while he sat there, I kept rubbing his back. He seemed to like it, being touched. In turn, his hand rested on my thigh.

“Do you want coffee? It should be ready by now.”

“Mhm.”

“And pancakes? Eggs? Scrambled, boiled?”

“Whatever you make, I’ll eat.” I’m easy.

He grinned, pleased. “Scrambled, then. Do you want to wash up first?”

Nope. And he wasn’t going to do all that alone, either. “No. It’s a lazy Sunday. No rush. Can I help with anything?”

He seemed to like that. Following him to the kitchen, which by now contained the wonderful smell of freshly made coffee, he pointed out where to find things. And while he prepared the pancakes and eggs (and bacon! And hash browns!) I went back and forth between the kitchen and the dining room, setting up. And I don’t know how it happened, but we seemed to hit a flow about five minutes in. Much was already where it should be - the plates and mugs were in the same cabinet where we’d stored them. Cutlery in the same drawer. Underlays, table cloth, all where I remembered we’d had them. There was only one thing not present - cereal. When I asked, he crunched up his nose.

“That’s not breakfast.”

Coming up behind, I slipped my arms around him and lay my chin on his shoulder, watching as he made the final pancakes.

“It sure is. Never had Cap’n Crunch?”

He chuckled. “No, never. Nor will I, Mr. Monkey.”

I sighed. Pity. I pinched his sides - he yelped. “You’re dissing an American staple, Scribbles.” I liked the nickname Doc had come up with, trying it out for size. And if he used that one for me…he didn’t seem to mind. “It’s not right. Half the country starts the day on it.” I tried to make it sound as if I was miffed, which I wasn’t. I actually liked this feast and the atmosphere it created, nice and slow.

“Alright, alright, I’ll get it. But if you want milk, I have that.”

This time, I crunched my nose. Not without Cap’n!

“No, thanks. Coffee is fine.” I already put it on the sideboard in the dining room. “Can you teach me how to make it? I’m up early…”

“Sure. I’ll show you. Oh, does that mean I will be coming down to the smell of coffee in the future?”

He certainly was!

“Oooh, how about pancakes? Can I sleep in from now on?”

I pinched his sides again, this time making him squirm.

“Don’t overdo it, Mister. This is not a hotel.”

“I think you have that in reverse - you’re the guest?”

“Mhm, and you’ve put me to work.”

He huffed. “At your own request! You wanted to help.”

I grinned. True. Nor had that really been a request - it should be done without offering or asking. I wouldn’t expect anyone to do all the work and just sit down, watching and expecting to be served.

“Do you mind if I familiarize myself?”

“Not at all. Feel free to poke around.”

He was too welcoming. I told him this, while I did start looking around.

“Why? I want you to feel welcome. You should know where things are. I won’t always be here.”

True. And very much appreciated.

“Thank you. Oh! That also means you don’t have to look for a sitter, for Arya. I’m here.”

He grinned. “That thought had crossed my mind. And I did want to ask you, if you would mind?”

“Absolutely. It’s the least I can do. Well, it also helps that she’s cute. Like her boss.” The answer pleased him, I could tell.

Sliding the last pancakes onto an already impressive stack, he announced that breakfast was ready.

**********

The breakfast was delicious. We took our time eating - I could definitely see why Adam liked to take his time. Instead of wolfing it down at the counter, or kitchen table, this way felt more like a holiday, where you sit for it far longer, lounging as it were.

“Every day should be a holiday,” he claimed. And I couldn’t really find (nor wanted to) an argument against it. He was right. And I was at an age, or at least approaching it, where you might want to think about ‘letting the young ones run about and live on the clock’.

Afterwards, we did the dishes and that was another thing he took his time with. So by the time I got upstairs and washed up and got dressed, it was almost approaching 10am.

“We’re going for a walk. Do you want to come along?”

I wanted to, but… “How far? I can’t go traipsing through the woods just yet.”

He smiled. “Not that far. Just a small round, to the dog park and then back. We do a big walkabout around 4pm.”

“There's a dog park here now?” They must've put that in recently. It hadn’t been here when my dad still lived here.

“Yes, it’s not far. Bring your cane.”

Alright, that would work and be a good exercise. Adam helped me with the shoes (just because it was faster, he claimed) and we set out. And it didn’t take long before we met a few others, people I hadn’t seen for almost two years!

“Kai McIntyre, as I live and breathe,” Mrs. Peele exclaimed when we got maybe half a mile from the house, coming toward us.

I grinned. We always got candy from her and her late husband, George, when I was younger. Their son, Jimmy, had been a childhood friend. We basically lived at each others’ place, really. He moved away, after marriage, living in Buffalo, I thought? Her other son, Cary, lived in town, as far as I knew.

“Hello Mrs. Peele.”

“Oh come now, I told you a thousand times - call me Bea. You called me ‘Auntie Bea’ when you were growing up, you squirt.”

Ha! Being called a ‘squirt’ at 48 - funny. Beside me, Adam chuckled.

“I heard you were wounded,” she remarked, nodding at the cane. “And I’m so sorry about your dad.”

“Thank you. I guess it was his time.”

Platitudes aplenty. I’d heard them before, but coming from her, I knew she meant it. When we were younger, our families had been close friends. BBQ’s and whatnot. I even went to summer camp with Jimmy.

“Yes. But I’m sure he and George are living the high life, up there.” She pointed at the sky.

“I sure hope so, Bea. Something to look forward to, if we ever have to make the journey.”

“Not yet, squirt.” Ha! “So how come you’re here?”

Ah…ehm…

“He’s staying with me, Bea,” Adam answered.

“Oh really? So it is true…”

Huh?

“Jack was saying you took someone in, and he said he thought it was a gentleman friend of yours, but he didn’t say it was Kai.”

Why that old…

“He couldn’t have known,” Adam supplied, “Kai only arrived here Friday. We haven’t spoken since last week.”

“Oh, I see. Well, welcome back, Kai. I’ll be seeing you!” She remarked, as her dog pulled her away.

Yes, plan on it, Bea!

“That damn nosy…” I muttered, as we continued our walk.

Adam admonished me. “Don’t do that. You know Jack. You should go say hello, if you don’t want gossip.”

I grumbled something under my breath. I didn’t like it.

“Boy, I think you take after your father, from what I've heard,” he then said, pointedly.

Ha! Oh damn! He was right. I’d sounded just like my dad just then. I sighed. “You're right. I should.”

“Yes I am. So why don’t you go on over tonight, and say hello? Smoke a cigar, have a drink? He’s alone, you know…”

“I will. Dammit, you’re right again. Okay, you can stop now.”

Adam grinned. “What - at being right? Nooooo, I like it too much.”

Using my cane, I tapped his butt and he laughed. “If I go, you go.”

“I’d love to! I love Jack and his stories.” He bumped me. “Be kind. He’s got no one else.”

“Fine,” I grumbled. “But he better have something good to drink.”

Well, usually, he did. Old Jack had pretty good taste, where liquor was concerned. I wondered if he still liked old scotch. He used to. It's where I got my first ever drink, from Old Jack.

And was sworn to secrecy, if ever someone asked…

**********

He still had the good stuff, Old Jack!

We visited him, Adam, Arya and me, that evening. And as we came up the path to his house, he saw us coming and hobbled his old self to the door long before we made it down the path. Arya, running ahead, sat in the door with him, waiting for us, right beside him. He’d gotten very old since I last saw him.

“You gotta be shittin’ me - Kai?” He exclaimed, peering at us with squinted eyes.

Ah dammit. I began to heavily blink as I recognized that old leathery face. Making it up those three miserable steps to his house was a bit of a chore but once I stood in front of that tiny wrinkled man, I kinda just lost it.

“Hey Jack,” I said, sniffling, grabbing him in a bearhug. Damn old fool.

“Hey kiddo! Come on in. You know where I hide the good stuff (Yep! His bookcase, top shelf, behind the ‘The Lord of the Rings’ trilogy, the first books I ever read in my youth). You bring smokes?”

I sure did! (I brought the case)

“Adam.”

“Hi Jack. Has Arya been visiting you?”

“Yeah, she got a snack this morning.”

Ahuh. So there was still a hole in the fence, huh? Probably the same one we used to use. That had to have been there for what - five decades? At least? Our old dog, Donet, had used it before. And Pip. And Palmer. Rockie. Bullet. It probably wasn’t even a hole anymore - just a walkthrough.

“So you’re the one who’s come to live next door, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Heard Adam had taken in a stray.”

Always nice to hear, being referred to as such.

“He did the place up nice, didn’t he?” Jack asked, nodding toward Adam. “Place needed it, too. Your dad let it slip.”

I could’ve felt offended, but he was right. Dad had let it slip, though not his fault. If anything, I guess we - Kellan, Megan, and I - had some equal share in it. We’d, or at least I, had always planned on helping out. Good intentions never having come to fruition.

“He certainly did. Very nice,” I replied.

“Helps if you’re loaded,” came Jack’s response, making Adam blush a little, “No one can really tell what he does. Some say he’s a rich kid, another says he’s one of them Tech boys.”

I chuckled. It wasn’t for me to say, then. If Adam didn’t want it known what he did for a living, then I wasn’t going to tell, especially not to this walking newspaper.

Producing the box of cigars, Jack’s eyes lit up.

“Been a while since I had me one of these. Still the Spanish ones?”

Dominican Republic, but close enough, I guess.

“You were always peculiar about these.”

Yes I was. One of these and you never go back. I helped him light one. And the look on his face was pure bliss. Now, as I remembered him - and he had to be at least ninety, if not older - he had always smoked like a chimney and drank like a sailor. And he was sharp as a pistol.

“So what’re you doing here, son?”

“Got wounded in Afghanistan … came here to recuperate.”

“Ahuh. Place got sold.”

“Yeah, we ehr…know one another.”

“Oh, I see. Like you knew the Paxton kid?”

Oh fucking hell…he remembered that? That’d been at least 30 years ago. But I’d never made a secret of preferring guys, even then. Soon as I knew, everyone here knew. Even when they made it known it wasn’t ‘proper’ in their view, I didn’t care, nor did my family. And they made that clear to anyone.

“Exactly like that, yes,” I answered.

Jack glanced at Adam. “Guess I was right about you all along, then.”

“Huh? What?” Adam replied, clearly confused, perking up.

Jack chuckled. “Never you mind, neighbor. It’s fine, gentlemen. Not that you need my blessing, but you have it none the less.” He nodded at me, raising his glass. “Welcome home, kid.”

**********

“What was he talking about?” Adam asked, when we were walking back home, Arya nosing her way through the berm.

“What do you mean?” I answered.

“Jack, … guessing he was right about me all along?”

Ah. “He meant about you being gay.”

“Ooooh. Okay.”

I glanced sideways. And I was amazed because he just accepted that and didn’t care. At all. And if I were looking for a sign, any sign, that everything was lit up green? Yep.

Right here.

It was so different from being with Ryan, where everything had to be secretive, because of politics and careers. And for me, being in the Navy and not to be clearly out, and be myself. I now could be.

I would be. To anyone and everyone.

Copyright © 2024 Andr0gene; All Rights Reserved.
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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. 
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