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.
Ash and Ember - 23. Birthday
11 February 2019, Monday 12:11 p.m. (Pacific Time)
"Damn it, I'm sorry, Troy." Grimacing just after the door shut behind his father, Grant turned to him. William had shown them to Grant's rooms, then he'd left the two men to themselves. Grant shook his head. "I should have told her it was a condition of our coming here - no inquisitions."
Smiling, Troy shrugged. "Honestly, this is relatively minor torture." He sighed. "Really, man, you're pretty lucky." He looked directly into Grant's eyes. "I know you have issues with your mom, and she has issues with control, but at least she's not judging us for being gay. She just wants to know that I'm not going to take advantage of you."
Grant frowned at Troy. "You think that I'm overblowing how manipulative and controlling she is?"
Troy shook his head. "No." He put his hands on Grant's shoulders, smiling at his lover. "But, I am saying, there are worse things from a family."
Grant remembered Troy's story about his family, and then about John's too. Troy had been outright rejected, while John's family had ignored their relationship. That was true all except for John's sister, Beth. Grant sighed. "Okay. Yeah, I guess you're right." He looked chagrined. "I guess my family problems aren't really all that impressive."
"It's not a bad parent contest, you know." Troy smiled and pulled Grant close. "I'm not trying to belittle your issues with your mom." He squeezed. "I do think the way you feel is justified." Troy looked fondly at Grant and gave him a loving grin. "All I'm saying is if it were a contest, I'd win."
Grant laughed in Troy's arms. He eyed Troy with a smirk. "Fine." Grant hugged Troy to his chest, his head against Troy's neck. "I don't want my mother to scare you off. That's all."
"That's not a possibility. You've got nothing to worry about, Grant. I promise you that."
Closing his eyes, Grant smiled. The two men stood there, wrapped in one another's arms.
11 February 2019, Monday 3:21 p.m. (Pacific Time)
William did indeed offer to show Troy the house and the grounds of the winery. The two walked around the spacious and rugged home, then donned ponchos and went outside. As they ambled about, William explained the use of all of the outbuildings. As he spoke, his eyes lit up with interest and passion, evidence that William enjoyed his work.
As they passed the edge of one of the fields close to the house, Troy followed William a few steps as he detoured off of the path to a black water line that lay along a very straight row of espalier grape vines. "I knew it. I knew it wasn't working." William squatted next to the line. Numerous drip irrigation nozzles extended out of the line, and William cleared the nozzles of the wet, sticky, clay-rich soil. William's hands soon went from perfectly clean to looking as if he’d played patty-cake with a mud pie. "It's not really a problem right now, but it will be when it heats up again."
Troy carefully stepped behind him and looked down at what he was doing. He pursed his lips. "Can I ask why you have a drip system here? Looks like a mister would work better."
"Eh, we lose too much water to the high temps during the summer. And the water drops on the leaves act like tiny magnifying glasses. In the strong sun we get, it can damage the leaves. It's just better to have the water applied directly on the ground at the roots." William made a face. "But yeah, the clay content in the mud makes these drip systems hell to keep cleared."
Troy had forgotten that it got hot in this part of California. Considering the problem, he said, "Well, how about a sub-surface irrigation system then? They're made for contact with dirt and soil. They won't clog up like the drips can."
Standing, William considered. "I don't think we ever really looked at sub-irrigation systems." He cocked his head. "What would the cost be? I'm talking install, materials, and maintenance."
Troy sensed a kindred mind in William, and he began to understand his place in the operation of the vineyard. William was the man who made it all work - focusing on the details, making his wife’s overarching vision happen. William was her most valuable and cherished asset. He was a big part of why the vineyard had succeeded against the dire predictions from Sandra's father that it would fail.
"Honestly, I don't know. I'd have to check. But I can if you're interested."
William looked back at the lines. "I'll estimate the time my crew and I spend clearing the lines. If you can get me a cost estimate, and one for labor and ongoing costs, then that'd be a good starting point."
Eager to be helpful, Troy nodded. "I can do that. Not a problem. I've installed a couple of these, but it has been a few years. So I'd need to see what's available now."
William observed him. Troy noticed that he had brown eyes, same as Grant. He seemed to think something over. "Do you think you'd want to stick around, even after the party, see to the work yourself? At least get us started, so my crew knows what to do?" William smiled. "You'd be paid well. Probably more than you'd normally charge. Sandra would insist."
Troy's surprise showed on his face. "Ah, I thought Sandra maybe didn't have a very high opinion of me. She'd really be okay with my working for you guys?"
William smiled. "Troy, I know she comes across as harsh. But, honestly, you impressed her. She'd never say so, but I could tell." His smile grew. "Besides, she's finally learned to let me do my job. So if I decided to hire you, then she'd trust me to get the right man for the work." He shook his head with a laugh. "But it took years for her to get there." He grinned. "And maybe a threat that I'd quit the winery if she didn't leave me to it."
Troy laughed. "Wow." He blew out a breath. "Yeah, she seems like a tough customer, that's for sure." Troy looked over the field before them, thinking about timelines. "Okay, so if you're really serious, I'd need to figure out an estimate before we do anything else. And I need to check my website. If I have a lot of jobs scheduled for when I return, then I will have to pass on the job here."
William nodded. "Do what you need to do. If you can't do the work, I won't be put out or offended. But I'd pay you for a consult - just to ensure we know ballpark prices to expect from our local contractors and vendors."
"If I'm not getting my hands dirty then I don't expect to be paid." Troy couldn't quite wrap his mind around getting paid for 'nothing.'
William smiled. "Again, Sandra will insist." He held out a muddy, grimy hand. As it hung in the air between them, a dollop of clay-rich soil plunked down to land on the ground. "And you'll definitely get your hands dirty."
Looking down at the proffered hand, Troy laughed with a shake of his head. "Okay then." Troy reached and clasped it, squishing mud and clay between their palms as the men shook. Both grinned at one another.
William chuckled as they released and Troy slung mud onto the ground. "Yep, pretty sure I'm gonna like working with you, Troy."
The lanky man nodded at William, still wearing his grin. "Same here."
Repositioning the poncho he wore a little to better protect his face from the misty rain that still fell, William motioned. "Okay, come on. Let's get moving. Now that we might be working a job together, there are a few more things I want you to see."
Nodding, Troy followed Grant's father over the fence and into the field that adjoined the house grounds.
11 February 2019, Monday 5:39 p.m. (Pacific Time)
The front door opened, and shortly after Grant heard his dad and Troy's voices down the hall. Both men talked, excitement in their tones. They had been gone for a couple of hours, and Grant had been about to go hunting for them. He got up from the couch where he had sat with his laptop to do a little web surfing and to catch up on the news.
The pair of men entered the living room. Both were spattered with mud, mainly on their legs, but there were spots here and there all over - even on Troy's face. They were in socks, and Grant imagined their footgear was completely covered in mud.
"Well, there you are." Grant smiled at Troy and his father. "Good tour?" He smirked and eyed their clothes. "It looks a little more interactive than I thought it'd be."
Troy grinned. "Yeah! It was great." He stepped over next to Grant. "Your dad and I checked out the fields, and I'm sure I can help them put in a better irrigation system. One that won't clog up."
Grant frowned at him. "What?" He shook his head, confused. "You'll have time to do that in less than a week?"
"Oh, no." Troy glanced at William. "We've talked, and I'm going to stick around after the party for a full week. Maybe up to ten days." He turned back to Grant. "I only had a couple of jobs scheduled on my website. I've already rescheduled them." He nodded as he spoke. "It's going to be a lot of work. Even with William's crew working with me, it'll be a lot."
Grant blinked in surprise. "Ah. Okay."
William smiled at Grant. "Is it alright for us to steal Troy for a bit?" His gaze slid over to Troy. "Though we need to negotiate over his rates; they're unacceptably low." Troy rolled his eyes at the remark, and both grinned.
"Well, sure." Grant got over the initial surprise. He noticed the easy, relaxed manner his father and Troy already had with one another. Weird! Grant found the way they clicked interesting and encouraging. "Uh, so you're really gonna stay? Another week?"
Troy moved his jaw as he thought. "Yeah. I think we can do it in a week. As I said, it might take up to ten days. But I think we can do it. So long as the weather doesn't turn really crazy."
Grant looked at them both, and he finally shook his head with a laugh.
William frowned. "What?"
"Ah. It's just in my wildest dreams, I didn't imagine that Troy would be staying alone here to work for you."
Smiling, William put a companionable hand on Troy's shoulder. "Well, we need the work done, and he is willing to do it. Besides, it'll give me a chance to get to know the man a bit."
Troy nodded. "Yep. He can tell me all of the embarrassing stories about you as a kid."
Grant laughed. "Great!"
The guys were all hungry. The way meals worked traditionally for the family was a little strange. Their staff prepared food throughout the day, and there was always something ready for them. It was due to the varied schedules and the busy lives of both Sandra and William. It was rare for them to sit down to a real meal, all together.
William went to find Sandra while Grant led Troy into the kitchen. Sure enough, a Dutch oven of beef stew bubbled away on low heat on the stove top. The two men served themselves a bowl each, then cut a couple of thick slices of homemade sourdough bread.
They took seats at the empty table in the large dining room that adjoined the kitchen. Troy sat right beside Grant and as they ate, the lanky man leaned into him, shoulder to shoulder. Grant knew that it was unconscious, and he smiled as their bodies touched in that comfortable, reassuring closeness.
At that moment, Grant was happy in a simple, pure and sublime way. His skin tingled with the release of oxytocin - the feel-good drug the body secretes when safe, secure, and loved.
Finishing his last bite, Grant wiped his mouth and leaned his head over on Troy's shoulder. Troy put his arm around Grant, smelling his hair. Grant closed his eyes and smiled.
After a relaxing, quiet moment, Grant heard a noise and looked up. His mother stood in the doorway of the kitchen. Her stance was a little odd - she leaned against the door frame, but Grant barely noticed. He almost felt as if he had been caught at something, and he sat up in his chair.
Sandra's expression was mostly neutral, with only the barest of smiles on her lips. It was gone in a flash, and her flat affect was back. "Don't bother yourself on my account, Grant. You looked comfortable." She stepped into the kitchen, her gait careful, and she put a hand on the far end of the table as soon as she could.
"Okay." Grant watched as she moved around the table; one hand was almost constantly in light contact with the surface. Then she moved to the counter and did the same thing - one hand lightly touching the countertop at all times. Grant frowned. "Mother, are you alright?"
Sandra sighed. "I'm quite fine, thank you." She didn't elaborate, and by her tone Grant knew that she wouldn't. "I'm just here for a bit of stew. Then your father and I have some business to discuss out on the patio." There was a covered outdoor space attached to the back of the house. They tended to use the area at all times of the year, and Grant loved the view of the fields the spot enjoyed.
Getting a bowl, Sandra looked over her shoulder at Troy. "When you're finished with your meal, I'd like you to join us. If you're to be our contractor for the new irrigation system install, then I want to talk about costs, timelines and such."
Troy nodded. "Of course." Then he stifled a yawn. "Ah, sorry. The time difference is a little weird."
"I expect that you'll adapt soon." She filled her bowl. "We also expect to see you outside."
She swept from the room without another word. Grant closed his eyes, trying hard to control his blood pressure. Troy rubbed Grant's back. "It's okay. It's fine."
"It's not fine. She's just gotta be in control. All the damn time."
"Grant, they're going to be paying me. She's my customer. All right? Don't mess this up for me. It's a well-paying job, and I can handle her."
Grant looked askance at Troy. "What? I'd never mess it up for you."
"Well, you could." Troy smiled at him. The expression was loving, but serious too. "There's so much history, and angst here for you. You automatically want to 'rescue' me from her." Troy smirked. "But really, I can handle it."
Grant looked into Troy's green, hazel-flecked eyes. He exuded calm and confidence. Relaxing slightly as he held Troy's gaze, Grant laughed and shook his head. "All right. I'll leave it alone. I won't call her out on her bullshit."
Troy grinned. "Thank you." He leaned over, and he laid a very gentle kiss on Grant's lips. Then he pulled back and smiled. "Okay, I'd better get out there."
Grant nodded, and they both stood up. "I'll take the bowls. I'm not sure where Gavin and the rest of the crew is. I've not even seen anybody else in the house. That's weird."
"I saw a pale, skinny guy around earlier. He was fetching something for your mom. But she didn't introduce me, and he didn't stick around."
Grant frowned. "Yeah, that's him. And that's weird. He's a sociable guy. Looks like he would have said something."
Troy shrugged. "He seemed busy." He looked toward the back of the house. "Okay, I'm gonna get out there." Troy smiled at Grant. "Go to bed. I can tell you're tired. I'll crawl in with you in a bit, hopefully."
Grant smiled. "Okay." Troy kissed him once more, then strode away.
Grant watched him go. Mother, you'd better be decent to my boyfriend. Just the thought of Sandra grilling Troy pissed Grant off. But Troy was right - he was tired.
Grant washed the bowls, then retreated to his rooms. There, he stripped and got into bed. Soon, Grant slept.
11 February 2019, Monday 8:38 p.m. (Pacific Time)
Opening the french doors, Troy walked onto the spacious patio. Clear, thick plastic sheets that snapped into place along the edge were up to trap heat from the two tall, gas fired heaters positioned on either side of the table. They currently gave off a pleasant warmth. The lighting was muted but enough to see by, and allowed Troy to notice the floor. This time it was composed of a porous sort of cement. He frowned as he looked down at his feet.
"Soil cement. We made pavers of it. Cheap, and it got the job done." William said from the table. He and his wife sat at opposite ends. It wasn't a long piece of furniture, but it still seemed strange to Troy.
"Ah, I've heard of it." Troy looked back at the stuff underfoot. "Never worked with it before, but maybe I will someday." He glanced back at the pair and quickly made a decision.
Walking over, Troy took the chair directly next to Sandra. He sat and lifted his chin to look her straight in the eye. "If you're ready, let's get to it."
Sandra had a great poker face, but slowly, her eyes crinkled and her mouth slid into that sideways smirk she shared with Grant. She gave a measured nod. "Sounds good."
Rising to his feet, William came down to their end of the table. He took the seat across from Troy, and for a split second Troy caught the satisfied smile and the look of approval from him.
So, everything is a test with her, Troy reaffirmed in his head as Sandra got the papers with all of the estimates together for the work he had to perform. I've got your number, lady.
For the next hour, the trio went over the costs, expectations, and if they all jived with Troy's skillset. All the while, Troy forced himself to focus, even through his fatigue.
As they wrapped up, Sandra seemed satisfied with their meeting. Troy stood and stretched, then gave a sleepy smile to William and Sandra. "I'd like to thank you for the opportunity for the work. I appreciate the trust you have in me."
"You're welcome." Sandra put her paperwork back into a careful pile, and she paperclipped it together. Then she looked up at him from her seat. "If you can really do it for your quote, then you'll save us quite a bit of money." She drummed her fingers on the table-top. "If you get it done for the quote, or below, you'll earn yourself a significant bonus." She held up a finger. "If William is satisfied with the job."
Troy nodded, satisfied with the terms. "That's fair." Sandra was a woman who knew what she wanted. Troy had a certain amount of respect for that. He stifled another yawn. "Ugh. Okay, I've got to turn in." He gave one last smile. "Goodnight. See you both tomorrow."
"Goodnight, Troy." William grinned at him. Troy could tell William was pleased with how their meeting had gone.
Troy left the patio, making his way through the house. He quietly entered Grant's wing of the home. Grant's collection of rooms was almost an apartment in and of itself; the only thing missing really was a kitchen. Stepping into the bedroom, Troy tiredly stripped.
Grant lay on his side, and Troy slipped under the sheet and the single blanket - it was warm in the home, and no more than that was needed. He scooted up against Grant, and his lover came semi-awake as he did.
"Hey," Grant said sleepily. He wriggled happily as their naked bodies pressed together. "I love you," Grant murmured, then the man was once again asleep.
Troy chuckled. He leaned forward and laid a gentle kiss on the nape of Grant's neck.
"I love you, Grant."
With that, he tumbled headlong into a deep, restful sleep.
13 February 2019, Wednesday 1:54 p.m. (Pacific Time)
With the birthday celebration on his mind, William was a busy guy. It was Sandra's last year in her forties, and he wanted it to be a great time - one she would look back on with fondness.
Sandra had given strict orders to Gavin to make himself scarce in the house as much as possible while Grant and Troy visited. He and William were the only ones in the whole winery to know of Sandra's diagnosis and the slow progression of her symptoms. So she did all in her power to avoid Gavin mixing much with the guys.
The problem was Gavin was terrible at hiding anything. They all knew it. Unfortunately, he had been the one to see Sandra fall in a field. She couldn't get back to her feet without help, and after he had assisted her to the house, she was forced to tell him what was wrong. Otherwise, the worried man would have convinced himself Sandra had some other malady - probably something worse than Multiple Sclerosis.
Still, there were worse qualities in an employee. Instead of bemoaning a person's limitations, both William and Sandra were united in working around them. Thus, the reason for Gavin's off-site assignments this whole week.
But William needed his help to pull off the party. Even if it was just their tiny group, there were still things their very competent driver and butler handled that were beyond what William could reasonably do by himself.
Sandra was particular. She didn't want any other people in the room once the party began. So, no live music or caterers. William knew part of it was because of her need to control something. And then, part of it was because she still stung from falling in front of her entire family over the holiday.
It's her party. She'll get what she wants, William thought as he helped Gavin finish the last touches on her cake. Gavin was, luckily, a capable man when it came to many things in the kitchen and around the house. He was in his mid-forties, built a lot like Troy - lanky, though not quite as tall - and his black hair was beginning to gray on the sides. He was also startlingly pale. The sun hardly ever touched his skin and when venturing outside, he always wore a hat and sleeves. An odd man, he had found his place at the winery and had done so for the last twenty years.
Gavin carried the cake into the dining room. As William worriedly watched, the man carefully placed the cake onto the very center of the table. They had already decorated the space for the party, and there were festive gold and green bows, ribbons, and streamers all over the area. Gavin straightened, cocked his head at the cake, then he moved it slightly. He nodded and seemed satisfied. Gavin turned to William. "Do you need anything else, sir?"
Looking over the space, William slowly nodded. "I think we're okay, Gavin." William smiled at him. "Okay, you'd better go before the boys come."
Gavin couldn't keep the disappointment off of his face. "Yes, yes sir." He turned to go.
William knew Gavin missed Grant. The man was almost like an uncle to his son. He had always been always around, and many times Gavin had been the only company Grant had when he was growing up on the winery.
William sighed. "Wait."
Gavin turned, a hopeful glint in his green eyes. William rubbed his face. "God, she's going to kill me."
Gavin grinned. "I'll not say anything about her condition, sir. I promise." He looked almost like a little boy about to open a present on Christmas. "It'd be so good to see him again. That's all I want. Just for a minute." Gavin took a breath and tried to gather himself, but William knew that he missed Grant terribly.
William eyed Gavin. "Okay. Just for a minute or two. And you can meet Troy, Grant's boyfriend, too."
Gavin's jaw dropped. "What?" A stunned look of realization hit him. "Oh! That explains so much!" He smiled. "All those problems with that beautiful fiance of his."
Before William could answer, Grant and Troy walked in. Carrying a rectangular, wrapped box, Grant's face lit up when he saw Gavin. "Gavin!" He grinned and handed the box to Troy. Quickly crossing the room, Grant hugged Gavin. Both men wore broad smiles.
"Hello, Grant." Gavin had a goofy, happy expression on his face. "It's so good to see you."
"Wow, same to you." Grant's eyes roamed over Gavin. "You look good! They're still keeping you busy, huh? I've not seen you at all, and we've been here for two days!" Troy approached and stood behind Grant as he spoke.
Gavin's eyes flicked to William, and he laughed somewhat nervously. "Ah, yeah. Really busy." He licked his lips, and nodded at Troy. "Uh, you going to introduce me to your friend?"
Grant made a noise of irritation at himself. "Ah, damn it. Yes." He put a hand on Troy's back and pushed him forward. Troy shifted the box to one arm, and he extended a hand toward Gavin. "This is my boyfriend, Troy. Troy, this is Gavin. He's our long-term employee and a close friend."
"Boyfriend!" Gavin was too excited, and it was obvious he already knew. Laughing, Grant glanced at William with a happy smirk. William simply rolled his eyes. Gavin continued. "It's great to meet you, Troy. I hope you guys have enjoyed your time here so far."
William carefully observed everything. He was terrified that Gavin would give something away. But seeing his reunion with Grant made the risk worthwhile.
"I have. Thanks, Gavin. Nice to meet you too." The men shook hands.
Then it happened. William saw Sandra enter through the doorway from the kitchen. Her look could have killed, but she was silent when she saw Gavin. The man followed William's gaze.
"Eeep!" It was a tiny, unconscious sound, and if William hadn't been so nervous, he would have laughed at Gavin's response. "I've got to go!" He smiled, all of his teeth on display at Grant as he hurried out of the room. "Great to see you again! Good to meet you, Troy!"
Grant looked bemused as Gavin retreated. "Uh, sometimes I really have no idea what is going on with him."
William breathed an internal sigh of relief. The secret was still safe. Sandra came further into the room, and William went to her side. Delicately taking her hand, he helped her sit. It looked like something a knight would do for a queen. Despite Sandra's apparent ire earlier, she couldn't help but smile a bit at her husband.
"The guest of honor is here, gentlemen." William nodded at the guys. "You know what to do."
They had already planned this, and Sandra frowned at them all, unsure what was next.
Grant inhaled, designated as the one to start.
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!" The tuneless sound of Grant's singing echoed madly around the room, then Troy and William joined in what amounted to a cacophony of noise.
William watched her face. In spite of her best efforts, Sandra Lee Sexton burst into laughter at the ridiculousness of the men in the room.
Let me know what you think of the chapter. I hope you enjoy it!
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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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