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    RolandQ
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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. 

Wellington Napoleon Dowd - 11. Chapter 11 - Love Returns

Chapter 11 - Love Returns

It must have been Spring, for I had never felt more forlorn. Gardener came to the studio, forcing his way into my consciousness, shaking me by the shoulders.

“Come down to the garden, Master Wellington. Cook Cooke has prepared a lovely luncheon and asked me to set a table there. It is a lovely day. Please, sir, come out this once.”

I did not have sufficient will to disobey. I emerged from the studio and followed him to the front lawn. As promised, a table stood in a spot, protected by projecting wings of the house. It was open to the front drive and overlooked the valley below. It would have been a pleasant prospect if pleasantness could exist on this Earth.

I allowed Gardener to guide me to a chair. I sat, averting my eyes from the sun reflected in a glass of wine, wanting nothing more than to retreat to my lair. A faint creaking of the gate invaded my ear. I looked toward it. There, approaching along the drive, was a man.

Who would dare come to the Dowd Mansion? Who would dare break my solitude? He called my name, “Wellington.” “Wellington Napoleon Dowd!” Tears sprang to my eyes. Yes, it was his voice calling me. What cruel mirage was this, to play upon my sight and hearing?

Only when he embraced me did I accept that he was real. “Kevin, Kevin, it really is you. I cannot believe it. Why? Why now? Oh, Kevin, Kevin.” He held me to his chest, assuring me of the truth of his presence.

“Forgive me, forgive me, forgive me. Please, Well, forgive me.” His voice entered my soul, soothing me. “I never intended to hurt you, but I had to leave, I had to be with myself, alone.”

My legs trembled and began to fail. Still wrapped in his arms, we reclined on the grassy bank.

“Where did you go? I waited and waited. Where did you go?”

“I ran and ran, trying to find myself, find my worth. I needed to know that I was a man, apart from the beautiful distraction of your love, your endless gifts to me. I had lost myself in you. I see now how selfish I was. There were times I hated myself for not being able to hate you. But I couldn’t hate you. You who have only shown me love. Oh, Well. At least I returned in time.”

This puzzled me. “In time? In time for what?”

“That doesn’t matter now, we’re together.”

“I don’t understand. I am beyond joy that you are here, Kevin. But why did you return? Why now?”

“You don’t know then. I see. I received a letter from Mr. Selwen informing me that you were ill and that he had concerns for your health. The following day I received a telegram from Gardener urging me to return.”

“They knew where you were?” I struggled between incredulity and betrayal.

“Only Selwen knew and I had sworn him to secrecy. I was afraid you would seek me out. I would be powerless to resist you. It took all the resolve of my life to leave once. But you see, dear, I needed to find myself to be worthy of you.”

“You have no need to be worthy of me. I love you, just you, as you are.”

“Well, you of all people know, deep in your heart, how important it is to be worthy. Look at your life. It is an ongoing struggle to become yourself. I felt small in your shadow. But I have faced myself, challenged my own existence. And I am here to be with you, if you will have me.” He covered my hands and face with kisses.

I had never harbored the glimmer of a hint of anger toward Kevin. I was lost without him, felt only the crushing absence.

He raised me to my feet and guided me to the table. He sat across from me, smiling. He took a napkin to dry the tears that must have been falling since the first moment I knew it was him. He filled a fork and began to feed me, feed me the most exquisite meal of my life. The wine tasted of love.

“My dear, Well. You are a sight. You’ve neglected yourself. We’ll get you back to your elegant self in no time. My own love, I’m sorry and will do all I can to make it up to you.”

I could see the guilt and hurt in his eyes. In my heart, there was nothing to forgive. I was grateful that he was here again with me. He allowed me again weep on his shoulder.

The waves of emotion calmed. I was aware of myself, alive again for the first time I could remember. There was something at the edge of recollection about Kevin. The image came back to me in a flash, ‘Little Red’. I grabbed Kevin’s hand and dragged him around the mansion to the carriage house. Kevin’s face was a mask of confusion, still he followed me, never losing hold of my hand.

“Stand there, in front of the doors.” I opened first the left, then the right-hand door of the bay. There gleaming was the Kevin’s truck, now a worthy companion to Clark Gable. Kevin laughed out loud with pleasure. He caressed the fender, looking back at me his eyes filled with tears.

“You did this. You did this for me. I cannot imagine a better gift. Wellington Dowd, I love you.”

As we embraced, the pent up need of these countless months rose in us, a need that could not be slaked. I next became conscious of Kevin’s slumbering body in my arms. A kiss on the nape of his neck evinced a contented ‘mmmmm’.

Some hours later, as he pleaded for sustenance beyond love making, I became aware of my own hunger. Blessed Mrs. Cooke was ready with a grand breakfast, though the hour was late. We refueled, showered and returned to bed.

***

We lay quietly in each other’s arms having reached a temporary contentment. “This is heaven, Kevin.”

“Mmmmm,” was his response.

“I don’t want to spoil this moment, you’ve told me why you left, but when you’re ready, you must tell me where you went, what you’ve done all this time.”

He turned away from me, curling into a ball. “I didn’t know what else to do, only that I had to be away from you if I was ever going to find myself so I could be completely and totally with you. I walked away that day with nothing. I wandered across the country, working odd jobs as I could, wandering. I was far from here when I came upon people who had even less than I. Their home, such as it was, was on the verge of collapse. I realized I had a great deal. I had an education and skills that I could use to help these people. With what materials could be found at hand and all my knowledge and experience, I repaired that house. Those good people shared what little they had with me in gratitude. Other nearby also needed my help and I helped them. I made a difference, Well, not for money, not for myself. I learned how important that is to me, to who I am.”

In the midst of that speech, Kevin had turned toward me, his face alive with purpose. “Well, that’s what I need to do with you, help others. We have more than enough, too much. I can’t live in this mansion with people to cook and clean for me, not when others suffer each day. I found out I can do more. Can you join me in this?”

I clutched him to my chest. “How could I love you more? Tell me what we should do?”

“We need to solve this together. Let’s get creative.”

At first we lay side by side, thinking and thinking. My hands must have wandered to touch Kevin for in a few minutes were engaged in a most magical fuck. Ideas popped out of us seemingly with every thrust.

“We could turn the Dowd Mansion into a bed and breakfast.”

“Yes, but we could build an apartment for ourselves.”

“We’ll get help for Cook Cooke and Gardener, they must be ready to retire, anyway. But they can stay as long as they wish.”

“The other mill buildings, they could be converted to low cost housing.”

“We could have our construction crew take a day or two each week to fix up houses.”

“Mr. Selwen will know how to raise money, if we fall short.” The mention of Mr. Selwen put me off my pace for a bit, but I found the rhythm again.

“We can open the grounds of the mansion as a park for everyone.”

“And build a band shell.”

“And have concerts.”

“And make out under the stars.”

“And, and, oh god, I’m cumming.” And I did. So did Kevin.

***

It seems a little sappy, even to me and by now you know I’m overly romantic, but we set about our good works. Kevin was on fire. He got up even earlier, worked even harder, finding profitable projects for the construction company, diverting the profits to pay for the charitable works. Mr. Selwen joined right in, though the prospect of tax deductions may have been the major inducement. Still, he strong-armed contacts into providing funds and materials.

My vision of languishing with Kevin in endless lovemaking was replaced by a reality of energy, activity and purpose. When we did make love, which was at every possible chance, it was completing, consuming and just plain fun. It didn’t take too much effort to lure him away for an afternoon tryst.

And me? I was as involved as ever. Kevin pointed out that there were many ways for me to be involved, not just a source of funds. “You’re a not bad surveyor, an okay carpenter and really good at organizing things.” So I joined in on the projects, too. I was to learn later that this could have consequences, as well. In the meantime, my lover had returned and we worked to make our lives together.

End of Chapter 11
Copyright © 2014 RolandQ; 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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I enjoy the expressiveness of this story. It isn't afraid to be exuberant. The romanticism is rampant and you're not backing away from it. Maybe not the taste of all readers, but an interesting treatment. Great job! :)

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On 07/15/2014 12:37 PM, Cole Matthews said:
I enjoy the expressiveness of this story. It isn't afraid to be exuberant. The romanticism is rampant and you're not backing away from it. Maybe not the taste of all readers, but an interesting treatment. Great job! :)
I suspect you know how a character can leap onto the page,fully formed as if from the head of Zeus (cheap Aphrodite reference). Wellington controlled the story, I simply typed it. Clearly, he's a romantic and given his family history, who is surprised.
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Nice coming of age story that followed the whimsically named main character, Wellington N. Dowd. The story is contemporary, but also has a bit of Gothic romantic story feel to it, and at times, Well sounds like a Southern gentleman with rich family history. Some nice phrases and good choices of words are memorable features of this story. It is not flawlessly executed at times, but over all a satisfying story.

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On 11/14/2014 03:32 PM, Ashi said:
Nice coming of age story that followed the whimsically named main character, Wellington N. Dowd. The story is contemporary, but also has a bit of Gothic romantic story feel to it, and at times, Well sounds like a Southern gentleman with rich family history. Some nice phrases and good choices of words are memorable features of this story. It is not flawlessly executed at times, but over all a satisfying story.
Thank you for reading and offering your thoughts. "Not flawlessly executed?" Well okay, I'll accept a few flaws. I had such a good time writing this story.
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