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    Mac Rountree
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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. 

The Boys of Summer - 2. Pate, Meet Blue

Michelle introduces Blue to Pate. Is Blue bad to the bone or just a misdirected surfer/fisherman/construction worker?

“So you’re a preacher’s kid,” I said.

“Don’t say it like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I have a disease or something. There are lots of men who have fathers who are preachers.”

“That may be but they aren’t gay and in my bed.”

“I didn’t say I was gay.”

We glared at each other.

“I need to take a shower. When I finish you are welcome to take one before going to your grandmother’s birthday service or whatever the hell you call it.”

He looked devastated and I felt like a heel. Where did my nasty comment come from? It had been such a wonderful evening and I had to ruin it by making a crack about his grandmother’s birthday party.

“Listen, I am sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“Yes you did. I don’t know what set you off but I was really enjoying your company until about five minutes ago.” He started crying and I felt even worse.

“Come here and let me hold you,” I said thinking that would help.

“Fuck you and your meanness. If I had known you were so fucked up I wouldn’t have come here last night.” He pulled on his clothes and headed to the front door.

“Do you want a ride home?”

“Not from you. I will walk to my apartment.”

The front door slammed. A painting in the foyer fell off the wall. I stood in the living room shocked by what had just happened.

“What the hell did you say to the kid?” Trace asked.

“Nothing.”

“Yeah, your nothing turned a love struck kid into a snarling animal.”

“Well, I said something sarcastic about church, and his grandmother, and birthdays. I was shocked when I found out he was a PK. OK, I didn’t handle it well.”

“Did you just make an understatement? ‘I didn’t handle it well.’ I think your observation skills are good though your social skills this morning could use some improvement.”

At that point I stormed through the house and went to the deck. I decided that I needed to work on my tan and didn’t need feedback from my roommate. I stretched out on the chaise, put on my Oakley sunglasses and drifted into a light sleep.

I awoke late morning when a shadow crossed in front of me. “Have a Bloody Mary. I am not getting shit faced all by myself.” I sat up and Trace handed me a tall frosted glass.

“Why did you get so upset this morning?”

I looked at Trace and knew he was trying to help me process. “I still haven’t gotten over Johnnie’s death, how his family treated me and everything that happened after that. When his father sent word that if I showed up at the funeral he would kick my ass in the grave and then drop the casket on top of me I knew that Christians were not my kind of people. What made it worse was that Johnnie’s daddy and the minister delivered the message. You know what else happened to me afterwards with the church. It went from bad to worse.”

“Well, not all Christians are like that, so stop generalizing. Why did you get so upset with that boy this morning?”

I looked down and then took a long slow drink from the tall frosted glass.

Trace sat there and gave me time to answer. He knew that I knew that he would sit there for hours if needed.

“I liked him. I connected with him. He was a goddamn virgin who gave himself to me last night.”

“Well that changes everything then. When virgins are sacrificed in your bed then this turns from something fun and casual into a village event with the neighborhood women hanging the blood covered bed sheets on the clothes line for all of the world to see that a virgin had been taken in your bed. You were right to kick him out before his family descended on the house this afternoon to negotiate the dowry.”

I looked at Trace trying to figure out how to respond in some smart ass manner. He has moved into my psyche and I didn’t want it or need it.

“Pate, he trusted you and gave himself to you. He adored you. I could tell that from just being with the two of you for a few minutes. And now you have shattered that trust because you don’t like the fact that his father makes his living as a preacher.”

“If I didn’t feel like a shit before you have succeeded in accomplishing that now.”

“I love you man, but at some point you need to grow up and get on with it.” Trace then stood up, put a big smile on his face and said, “And besides, it is my happy lot in life to kick your ass every step of the way on your journey to growth and fulfillment.”

“I’m glad you have small feet.”

“I’m glad you have a big ass with child bearing hips. It makes it easier to kick.”

We both burst out laughing.

“Let’s go fishing, buddy. I think an afternoon on the water would do us both good.”

“Let me put the post virginal sheets in the washer, climb into my board shorts and grab the cooler.” In a few minutes we were leaving the house and jumping into the Jeep.

That night as I made the bed, I scrunched up the sheets hoping for the smell of ET. I knew it wasn’t possible because everything had been washed but I wanted and needed something to remind me that he had been with me. Instead, all I could think about was Little Anthony and the Imperials singing, “Tears on My Pillow.” I lived into the lyrics thinking of the missed boy who had freely given himself to me.

Monday was a shit-show at work. The presentation in Richmond was better than we had expected. We had several commitments and others wanted to come down to look at the site where we would be building “their house.” If they thought of it as “their house” we were ninety percent closer to a sales contract and closing.

My office manager had screwed up office coverage for the day and we were completely understaffed. Everyone took a rotation on the phones – both calling attendees who had been at the dinner and thanking them for attending and answering calls from folks who were interested in the development. By mid-afternoon, I could feel the energy dragging and sent Roxanne to John’s Drive-In to get ice cream for everyone. The sugar rush helped carry us over the finish line for the day. It had been an exhausting day and I couldn’t wait to get home.

I pulled up in front of the house hoping to see ET waiting for me. I don’t know why I thought that was even a possibility. I walked into the library and grabbed the decanter of my favorite whisky and poured two fingers in a glass. I opened the door and went to the deck where I sat in a rocking chair. I faced the ocean and did the what-if dance in my head. What if I hadn’t been an ass-hole? What if he was really into me and was a forgiving sort? What if I would call him? The questions escalated. As I was sliding my tongue around the rim of the glass to get the last possible taste of Scotch, Trace came onto the deck and told me that he and Michelle were going out to dinner.

“Do you want to join us?”

“No thank you. You are most gracious to inquire?”

“I am gracious? What kind of horse shit language is that?”

I grinned at Trace and told him I was feeling particularly southern at the moment and might need to head down to rice country for a few days. I was feeling a deep need to be in coastal South Carolina. I needed to connect to the land. I was Irish in that way. No red Georgia clay but rather the swamps and coastal tides of South Carolina.

“That sounds a little too Southern Gothic for me. You have work to do so you aren’t going where it is even hotter and more humid than here. Stay here but no more liquor tonight. Agreed?”

“No more alcohol for me tonight. I promise.” I held up my fingers in the Boy Scout sign. “Thanks for the offer of food but I am not particularly hungry right now. Have a good time.” The what if questions quickly returned which immobilized me and I couldn’t figure out the next move on the chess board.

Tuesday was a busy day of more follow up on the promises made at the sales event and getting my staff to close the deals. I wanted signatures and I wanted deposits. Late that afternoon, I headed over to meet with Randolph from the PR firm for a debriefing on the sale event. I thought it was going to be just the two of us but he brought his team together to talk through the strengths from the event and what we could do better in the future. I sat midway down the conference room table and ET slid into the seat beside me. I was not prepared for that to happen and my hands were shaking.

We started the meeting and each person on the team talked about what had worked particularly well including having the models on the tables so that prospective buyers could actually look at a three-dimensional version of their house. Staff also liked the pairing of someone from the PR firm and someone from the development company.

Randolph then said we should talk about what didn’t work so well. There was silence and discomfort. I sensed that some staff were scared. I finally spoke up and said, “I was not happy with my presentation. I felt it was too numbers driven and not enough about the enjoyment and aesthetics of the project. I may have misjudged the audience thinking this was just about the investment but people were really excited about the design aspects.” After that, people spoke about how their parts could have been strengthened and that perhaps we needed better market demographics of who would be attending the events so we could plan better.

“Frankly, we have spent a ton of money on market demographics and I need some strong convincing that we got that piece wrong. I think we have the right information but mis-read what the appeal would be. I think we change our strategy from financial return on investment to pleasure return on investment.”

I could tell the staff were not convinced and Randolph said he and the staff would talk through my ideas and we could get together later in the week. We finished the meeting and I offered to pay for the first round at Kelly’s Bar so we headed down the beach. ET asked if he could ride with me to the bar. I agreed and said that I would bring him back to his car as I headed home for the evening.

We walked into Kelly’s and I saw Trace and Michelle. I approached Michelle who said, “Pate, you missed a good dinner last night. I wished you had joined us. Trace told me about your latest man crush and how you have screwed it up again.” Just at that moment ET walked up and stood beside me and overheard Michelle talking. There was a moment of awkward silence and then I introduced ET to Michelle.

Trace said, “Good to see you again buddy. I hope your grandma had a good birthday.”

ET smiled, looked up at me. “She was glad I was able to come home. She is very special in my life.”

I suggested to ET that I owed him and the PR staff a drink. I told Trace I would see him at home shortly. He smiled and said, “Well, I may be home but I probably won’t see you as I have something to take care of.” At that point he pulled Michelle close and kissed her.

I laughed as ET and I walked away. “Trace is such a horn dog. All he can think about is screwing.”

“Yeah, I think you are both horn dogs.”

“So, really how was your trip home?”

“It was nice except for one thing.”

I gave him a quizzical look.

“Every time I would hit a bump in the road my butt would throb and all I could think about was making love to you. I was so angry with you but I missed you so much and every jolt reminded me that I had been a jerk.”

I just stood there looking at him. “So how is your butt tonight?”

“Much better,” he said grinning at me, “and I apologize for being a jerk.”

We had a drink and I paid for the first round for everyone. It had been a long workday and I told ET I needed to return him to his office to pick up his vehicle. When we arrived at the office, I pulled around back to the employee lot. ET told me that he had worked on a brochure he wanted me to see. We got out of the Jeep and walked into the back door to the office building. We went upstairs and into his office. ET led me along the hallway without turning on overhead lights. He turned on the arc lamp over his drawing table to show me the brochure. I leaned over his shoulder to look at this work and he leaned back into me as I did so. I put my right hand on his shoulder and peered at the brochure. I was having a hard time focusing on the work that he had produced. Holding him was making me very horny. The brochure wasn’t good and I didn’t know what to say so I just pulled his body back into mine.

Just at that moment the overhead light in the office came on and Randolph asked what I was doing in the office with one of his staff with the lights off. I stood up and said that Timothy wanted to show me a brochure he was working on. I explained that I had stopped by to drop Timothy off after going to Kelly’s. Randolph was pointed in saying that it was a work in progress and wasn’t ready for the client to see it. ET was mortified.

“Well, on that note, I think it is time for me to head home. I am sorry that I may have encouraged Timothy to show me the brochure when he mentioned it. I look forward to seeing what your team produces for our company.”

Randolph bade me good night and told ET they needed to talk.

I arrived home and expected ET to stop by to tell me of the conversation. There was radio silence from ET. I heard nothing. I decided not to call his office because I knew Randolph would inquire why I was calling his staff. I didn’t know ET’s home address or telephone number so could only hope that I would run into him or that he would stop by.

I stayed around the house all weekend thinking that ET would come over. I didn’t walk to the beach thinking that I would miss his visit. By Sunday, I decided that whatever we had going for us was over. That night I went to a cook out down the beach and had a good time chatting with friends and started to feel like my life was returning to normal. Whatever normal was for me.

Late on the next Monday afternoon I was working in the office when Michelle, Trace’s girlfriend, called and asked if I could stop by her real estate office. “I have something for you.”

“Sure girl, anything for you.”

Ten minutes later I pulled in behind her office building. I went in and said hello to Helen, the receptionist, and told her I was going to see Michelle.

“Always Michelle and never me. I don’t know what I have to do to get fag hag status in this office.” She burst out laughing because everyone on the beach knew that Helen was the biggest fag hag around.

“Honey, when you turn in your fag hag certificate it will take a half dozen to replace you.”

“Well, I can’t wait for you to see what gift Michelle has for you.”

I walked into Michelle’s office and she was talking with a young construction guy. He turned around and looked at me. He had blond hair, blue eyes and a deep tan. He smiled and his dimples made his face light up.

“Pate, meet Blue. Blue, this is my friend Pate.”

We shook hands and chatted.

“Pate, what are you doing for dinner? Trace and I are going to a crab picking tonight. Blue just started and doesn’t know anyone on the beach so I thought you could take him to supper.”

“Well, actually I was going to do shrimp and grits at home tonight. You are welcome to join me.”

Blue grinned and said, “That sounds so Charleston, I would love to.”

I couldn’t help staring at his nice chest with perky nipples pushing through his t-shirt. I couldn’t tell anything about his cock because he had on baggy khaki shorts. His feet were shod with steel toe work boots. Damn, I thought, I couldn’t wait to unwrap this hot package. I was already plotting my strategy to have him in my bed tonight.

He followed me to the house and when we went inside I offered him a drink. He drove an old Toyota pick-up truck that I surmised he had bought used. He didn’t look flush with cash and my guess was if I wasn’t feeding him dinner he would sit at home with a soda and bag of Frito chips and call it a meal. Probably finish it with a joint as dessert before cruising the beach.

“This house is way cool. I didn’t know they made them with such great interior detail.”

“They don’t. This was under construction as a two condo unit on a large lot. I bought the entire property and combined the units. I ripped out all of the standard installation and replaced with custom moldings, trims and doors. I also ripped out all of the standard carpeting and had hardwood floors installed. The condos weren’t finished when I bought them so I did some exterior changes also. It probably would have been cheaper to start from scratch but I love this part of the beach and there were no empty lots. Look around if you want. The stereo is in the library so why don’t you pick out some music.”

I heard Patti Labelle start singing accompanied by what I thought was a cat in heat. I popped my head in the library and asked if everything was ok. “That’s just me singing with Miss Patti. I pretend I can sing but I can’t hit a lick. Totally tone deaf. Can I look through your library?”

“Help yourself. When you need a refill on your drink help yourself. I fix the first one and then you are on your own.” I had fixed him a vodka tonic and realized that I needed to make a trip to the grocery to refill bar supplies. When I saw him again he had a glass full and I asked if he found some more tonic.

“I am not going to use tonic when you are serving Stoli’s. Why mess up a good vodka? This is on the rocks.”

Blue brought out a stack of books and put them on the breakfast room table. “I can’t believe what a great library you have. I have been wanting to read these books.” He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lit one before I could say no smoking in the house. “Oh yeah, sing on Miss Labelle.” His body was swaying and his hand was twirling with a lit cigarette as he read the jacket blurbs on the different books.

I put a salad and French bread on the table.

“Here, let me grab some plates and stuff.” Then he started laughing and asked me where he could find what we needed. He set the table while pushing the books to the side.

I put the shrimp and grits into a pasta serving bowl so we could help ourselves. The bowl was part of a set of Italian pottery dinner ware I had purchased at an antique shop a few years before. It worked well on the oak refectory table. I lit some candles in brass altar candlesticks I had purchased from a friend who had an antique shop. The candlelight gave the room a mellow European feel. The sun was on the horizon and the mood was perfect for seduction.

“You can stir up some groceries. Man, this is good food. You cook better than my grandma, of course she would never cook shrimp and grits. She would fry shrimp and she would cook grits but never the twain would meet during the same meal.”

We talked about the books he had pulled from the shelves and the authors we liked. I heated water and poured it into the French Press to make coffee. We sat and talked about the authors and books and I was fascinated with his agile wit and sharp mind. He would sip the coffee, take a drag from his cigarette, close his eyes and sway to the music. I went around the house opening the windows. I didn’t smoke and neither did Trace so the smell was a little more than I could stand.

“Can I use your bathroom?”

I pointed him to the bathroom and started cleaning the dishes from the table. He came back in and sat at the table. I smiled and asked if I could get him anything.

“It would be great if I could borrow a couple of these books. I promise to return them. You know where I work and Michelle would kick my skinny butt if I didn’t return them.” He smiled and the dimples did their magic.

“OK, but know I am peculiar about my books and my music. I have cut people off when they didn’t return a book or a CD.”

“Scout’s honor. I will return the books tomorrow.”

“Well, you can keep them and finish them.”

“Oh, I will have them finished by breakfast. So I can give them to Michelle to return if you like or you could invite me to dinner tomorrow night and we could talk about them.” He smiled again.

“I have a meeting tomorrow night so that won’t work. Why don’t you stop by Wednesday night and I will figure out something for us to eat?”

“You are the best,” Blue said as he headed out the door. I realized that my seduction plans had been put aside and I had found a new friend.

I finished cleaning up and headed to the bedroom. I had pulled a leg muscle getting the boat back to the dock the day before and decided I had best take a pain pill so I could sleep during the night. I went into the bathroom and opened the cabinet. The bottle was there but there were no pills inside. That is odd, I thought, I had at least 10 pills in the bottle the last time I had taken one but that had been the month before. Pills would sit in my medicine cabinet for months and I would have an ailment and go find something to take. I had gotten those pills when I had minor surgery a few months before and decided to keep what I didn’t need for pain for times such as this. I figured I had misremembered and needed to get a refill at the pharmacy. I took some aspirin and went to bed with a light throbbing in my leg.

I tossed and turned during the night because of the discomfort. My mind kept going back to the missing pills and I could not figure what had happened to them. Finally, I got up to find the heating pad for my leg, took some more aspirin, downed a scotch on the rocks and crashed. I finally slept.

I was almost asleep the next night when the telephone rang. It was Blue. “Hey dude, did Michelle return the books? They were great. Can I borrow some more tomorrow night? What are you going to cook? Man it has been such a nice day all I want to do it kick back, smoke a joint, take a pill to craft my buzz and relax.”

I was taken with his enthusiasm and we talked for about an hour. I didn’t realize until after hanging up that Blue had probably taken my pain meds to craft his buzz. Great, a charming, cute guy and a drug addict.

The next afternoon ET called and asked if he could stop by. I told him that Blue was coming to dinner and I would fix enough for three. He asked if I was dating Blue and I told him that Blue was Michelle’s friend and that he had just moved to the beach and was making friends. I suggested it would be a fun evening. ET reluctantly agreed to join in the dinner plans.

I chilled some Veritas Vineyard viognier and sautéed shrimp, mushrooms and fresh sugar snap peas finished off with a ginger sauce. I cooked rice and spread it on an antique Chinese celadon platter, then put the shrimp mixture on top finished off with chopped green onions. My godmother had given me a set of Occupied Japan plates that looked great with the celadon platter. The viognier was the perfect wine as we sat on the deck in the twilight. I had hung Japanese lanterns above the table and had tea lights sitting on the deck railing. Trace and Michelle came home and Trace teased me about my gay gene and not being able to have a simple dinner without turning the deck into a Chinese brothel. Michelle cuffed his shoulder and told him that she was glad someone had taste because he didn’t. He looked at her and said, “I adore you. You are the loveliest, most beautiful woman I know.” She melted right in front of us.

Blue guffawed and said, “Damn dude, that is one good line. That is good for at least ten fucks.”

We all laughed as Trace and Michelle walked into the bedroom and closed the door.

All was not well on the deck. ET’s pointy fingers could not maneuver the chop sticks while Blue manipulated them as if born in Shanghai. I could tell that ET was extremely frustrated and suggested he get a fork from the kitchen.

“Yes, you should go get a fork if you can’t use chopsticks. Lord knows, you need to eat as skinny as you are. You look like a stick figure.”

I looked at Blue but didn’t say anything.

I got up from the table and went into the dining room to get three forks from the silver box. I brought them back to the deck and gave one to Blue and one to ET. I started eating with the third one. I might have preferred the chop sticks but I wasn’t going to have a dinner guest insulted without finding a way to smooth over the situation.

ET looked relieved and I just steamed. After we finished the shrimp I made a pot of coffee and brought out local strawberries, pound cake and freshly whipped cream. We ate while looking across the dune to the ocean. Blue and I talked about the books he had read. ET did not say a word. I tried to engage him in conversation but he wasn’t interested in being slammed by Blue again. Blue’s intellect and cultural reference points made for a lively discussion about the current state of gay literature.

Blue asked if he could go into the library to check out some more books from the ‘Library of Pate’. I laughed and told him yes. ET and I cleaned up the dishes and loaded the dishwasher. He kept leaning into my body every chance he had. I could tell that things were not good and I asked him if he wanted to talk. “Later,” he said, “when Blue is not here.”

Blue came out with a stack of books and laughingly said he would be up all night reading. I asked how he could stay up all night and he told me that he had some little pills that worked wonders. He then asked to use my toilet. I told him that he knew where it was. Before dinner, I had cleaned out the few pill bottles from the medicine cabinet and had put them in my bedside table drawer. Blue quickly returned and said he was heading out. I told him to enjoy the books and give them to Michelle when he finished them. ET hung back while Blue gathered the books and departed.

“OK, little buddy, I think a walk on the beach would be good to work off this dinner.”

We walked across the deck, down the steps and crossed the sand dunes covered in sea oats. The sand was packed hard and it was easy to get to the shore line. We headed south. I waited for ET to talk. He finally took my hand but still said nothing.

“So, let’s talk about what is weighing so heavy on your mind tonight.”

“Well, I am in trouble. Randolph told me that he thought you had taken advantage of me sexually and he wouldn’t tolerate an employee dating a client. I told him that nothing had happened and that I was only showing you the brochure. I apologized to him for showing you a work in progress. I don’t think he believed me.”

“Damn, I didn’t mean to cause you such problems.”

“Well, I have to decide whether to see you or not. He has made it very clear he will not tolerate staff dating clients and I understand but that doesn’t take away my pain of not being with you.”

We walked in silence because I wanted him to figure out his course of action. Finally, he stopped walking, put himself in front of me, leaned up and started kissing me. His arms were around my neck and he kept pulling himself in closer to my body. “Oh God, Pate, I didn’t know I would fall for someone so quickly and that it would be with a client of the firm.”

“So, what do you want to do?”

“I want to go back to your house and for us to make love.”

“OK, but we have to develop a plan because I don’t want you to lose your job.”

“I have lost my heart to you, and I need for you to make love to me.”

We walked back to the house and went into the bedroom. I took off his glasses. He stood in front of me, arms akimbo and looking lost. My fingers slowly unbuttoned his shirt and then I started kissing the freckles on his shoulders. He was breathing heavy. I then leaned down and starting licking his chest. My tongue worked it until his back was arched. I raised his arm and slowly started licking his hairy pit, it tasted of sweat and deodorant. I didn’t care because the goosebumps on his arms let me know he was turned on. The button on his trousers was easily undone as I licked his stomach. My tongue traced down his treasure trail. I leaned into the kiss. After we finished kissing, I put my forehead on his and just looked in his eyes. He smiled and started rubbing his nose against mine. I felt joy that he was so easy to please.

I undressed and then we crawled into bed. He immediately backed into me and I put my arm across his chest. He sighed and gave my arm a squeeze. I could feel his body shaking.

“What’s wrong, little bit?” I realized he was crying.

“I found a man to love and I have to choose between him and my job. God has given me a great challenge.”

I knew not to have the God conversation because I would probably screw it up so I decided to bring camp humor to bear. “Don’t worry Scarlett because tomorrow is another day and you can figure it out then.”

He flipped his body in bed and was facing me. “Don’t make light of this Pate, I have to figure this out and sarcasm doesn’t help when I am so in love with you.” He buried his head into my shoulder and fell asleep.

I had a sleepless night.

Copyright © 2019 Mac Rountree; 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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Brilliant chapter, why does it seem that you always encounter headwind at the start of a new relationship.

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9 hours ago, mikedup said:

Brilliant chapter, why does it seem that you always encounter headwind at the start of a new relationship.

To badly paraphrase Einstein,  when a new energy force field is created then there is an equal amount of resistance.  The new way of being will settle in after a period of time, but there are still challenges ahead for the guys.  

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Living in the U.K., some of the great joys of reading stories like this come from looking up the references to immerse myself in the story locale, which tends to be different than over here.  Little things like "what is a bundt cake..." and so on.  You've also got me looking at serving ware and I've taken a fresh look at Viognier, which is a wine I haven't bought in years.

Then again, perhaps I just need to get out more 😄

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12 hours ago, Brokenbind said:

Living in the U.K., some of the great joys of reading stories like this come from looking up the references to immerse myself in the story locale, which tends to be different than over here.  Little things like "what is a bundt cake..." and so on.  You've also got me looking at serving ware and I've taken a fresh look at Viognier, which is a wine I haven't bought in years.

Then again, perhaps I just need to get out more 😄

Thanks for reading the story.   

I can promise that Pate will never cook a bundt cake.  He would think such a cake would be too plebeian.  He would however love a Victorian sponge.  He easily slips into the pretentious however he thinks he is just being natural to who he is.  Sometimes he lacks a certain self awareness.  

I love Viognier.   There is a wonderful vineyard and winery about three hours north that makes an excellent Viognier and a wonderful Claret.  I think it is time for another trip to fill the wine cellar.  

If my story helps you get out more I consider it a success.  😎  Enjoy your glass of Viognier!!🤩  

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You have accurately described the conflict that some forms of Christianity create with those who aren't of their very narrow point of view, which view I would argue is not the mind of Christ as they proclaim it to be as they are quick to quote scriptures that do not come out of the mouth of Jesus but many other sources.  In any case, I like that Trace is a strong voice to challenge Pate!  I know I will find out how these conflicts are resolved in the subsequent chapters, but limited to just this and the first chapter, well done!

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6 hours ago, pvtguy said:

You have accurately described the conflict that some forms of Christianity create with those who aren't of their very narrow point of view, which view I would argue is not the mind of Christ as they proclaim it to be as they are quick to quote scriptures that do not come out of the mouth of Jesus but many other sources.  In any case, I like that Trace is a strong voice to challenge Pate!  I know I will find out how these conflicts are resolved in the subsequent chapters, but limited to just this and the first chapter, well done!

Trace is a strong moral voice for Pate who had a bad experience with the church and now is very anti-church.  Trace helps Pate several time realign his moral compass and do the right thing. 

Thanks for reading the story.

Mac

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