Rick put his hand on my chest when we got into bed. That was his sign that he wanted to make love. He started moving his hand around on me, and that was beginning to arouse me. Any time he touched me in anything more intimate than a handshake, I started growing down below. That night I relished his touch. We kissed. "I love the way you smell," he said. "Do I smell like aftershave?" I asked. "Not really. You smell like Kevin," he said. "Do I smell like Rick to you?" I got playful and started sniffing around the various parts of his body. We always sleep nude, so I moved down to his crotch, sniffing away. In point of fact, the aroma of that part of his body was a total turn-on for me, and I nudged his hard-on with my nose. I didn't just do that, though. I took him into my mouth. He moaned a bit. "Turn around so I can get at you, too," he said. I did as he asked, and I felt the exquisite heat of his wet mouth on my dick. We kept that up for a long while, stopping when the other one was near orgasm. Finally, after several close calls, we made each other come. "Wow! That was intense," he said when we were both recovered and cuddled in each other's arms. "It was for me, too. I love the way you build me up to it gradually," I said. "I like that, too, and it always makes me come harder than I usually do," he said. "Same here. I wonder how many other people in this house and next door did the same thing tonight," I said. "I don't know. I had fun tonight with the new neighbors. Did you?" he asked. "Yeah. I got a little pissed off when Reid was angry at Murray for missing the ball, but Kyle set him straight on that point. Reid apologized to Murray, and I saw them shaking hands," I said. "Good for Kyle. Evidently he did it without threatening Reid, too, because the two of them seemed to get along fine," Rick said. "Yeah. I think Kyle's growing up and learning how to be a little more diplomatic than he used to be. Babe, I'm going to turn out the light now," I said. "Okay. I love you, Mr. Foley," he said and kissed me. "I love you, Mr. Mashburn," and I returned the kiss. Rick and I always made love with the lights on. We had tried it a few times in the dark, but one of our great joys of sex was watching the other one's reactions to what we did. For that we needed light. I switched the light off, and in seconds we were both asleep, holding each other gently. * * * From the depths of sleep, I heard a ringing sound that seemed to get louder as I began to wake up. Rick usually set his alarm clock for five o'clock so he could get up and run to start his day. I had gotten so used to it that the alarm rarely woke me up anymore. Besides, the sound I was hearing was more like a phone than an alarm clock. I switched on the bedside lamp on my side of the bed, and I was suddenly blinded by the light. I grabbed the phone. "Hello," I said. "Hello? Mr. Foley?" the voice asked. "Yes, this is Kevin Foley. Who is this?" "This is Sergeant Green with the Florida Highway Patrol. I'm sorry to disturb you in the middle of the night." A million thoughts ran through my mind. Had there been an accident? Was one of the kids hurt? What was wrong? "That's okay. What's wrong?" I asked. Rick was awake by then. "Who is it?" he whispered. I held up my hand to indicate that I had to pay attention to the phone. "Sir, one of the employees of Goodson Enterprises got into a scrape earlier tonight. He got beat up at a truck stop up on Highway 231. He's not hurt bad, but it's like he's catatonic or something. I can't get anything out of him, and he doesn't have any ID on him. He's wearing a Goodson Enterprises tee shirt, though. I need for you or somebody to come and get him, if you will." "Is he drunk?" I asked. "No, he doesn't seem to be, and I don't smell any alcohol on him or anything. I think he's having some kind of emotional reaction or something," Green said. "I've known Gene Goodson for years, and his daddy, too, and I know he'd want to help this boy." "Hold on a minute," I said into the phone. "What's going on?" Rick asked when I covered the mouthpiece of the phone. "Some kid who works for Goodson got beaten up tonight. He doesn't have ID, and he's catatonic. This is the Highway Patrol, and they want me to come and get him," I said. "Well, if anybody goes, we'll go together, Babe. Is the guy drunk?" Rick asked. "He says not," I said. "What should we do?" "What time is it?" Rick asked. I looked at the clock next to the bed. "It's two o'clock in the morning," I said. "Jesus Christ," Rick replied. "They didn't prepare us for this kind of thing in hotel school, did they?" I chuckled. "Tell him we're coming," Rick said. I told the Sergeant we were on our way and hung up. "How do they know the guy works for GE?" Rick said, as we were driving to the Highway Patrol station. "And how the hell did they know to call us?" "Apparently he has on a company tee shirt. I don't know how he knew to call us. He said the guy doesn't have any ID, so I wonder if he was robbed," I said. "Probably. They probably just took his whole wallet. Kevin, this is what comes of being a big fish in a little pond," Rick said. "What are you talking about?" I asked. "Well, only in a place like this would the cops call a perfect stranger in the middle of the night to come bail out an employee, a possible employee, really. I can just imagine the cop's thought processes. 'He's wearing a tee shirt that says "Goodson Enterprises," so he must work there. The Goodson's are good people, and they take care of their own. I'll just get that Foley guy's ass out of bed in the middle of the night to effect the rescue.'" I laughed. "You're probably right on target," I said. "The cop said he knows Gene and he knew Gene's daddy, too. He was thinking we're going to keep this quiet and all in the family." "Exactly," he said. Rick was driving, and he pulled into the parking lot at the Patrol station. There were a couple of other cars there, and a man and a woman came out as we were going in. The man was drunk, and the woman was bitching him out. I wondered if she had been called, too. "I'd hate to be that guy, if it's what it looks like," Rick said. "Yeah, me, too," I said. There was a young woman at the counter in the front of the station. I told her who I was and asked for Sergeant Green. She went into the back, and a fifty-ish man in a Highway Patrol uniform came out. We made the introductions. "Come back into my office," he said. We went into his office, and the guy in there was Kenny Balch. And, yes, he definitely was a Goodson employee. He worked for Tony in Information Services, in fact. When he looked up and saw who it was, he burst into tears. I didn't know what to do. I knew Kenny, but I didn't know him well. I spent time every day talking with the employees in the Goodson Building, so I knew Kenny was newly married and that he loved golf. He didn't have any children yet, but I knew he wanted a family eventually. He was probably twenty-five or twenty-six, somewhere in that neighborhood. He was a very good-looking guy usually, but at that moment he had an ugly black eye, no doubt from the beating he had taken. "Do you know this gentleman, Mr. Foley?" Sergeant Green asked. "Yes, he works for Goodson. His name is Kenny Balch," I said. "Do you know if he's married?" Green asked. "Yes, he is. He's been married about six months, I guess," I said. "I'm going to call his wife and ask her to come get him," Green said. "NO!!!" Kenny screamed out. "Don't call her. We're not together any more." That came as a shock. I had seen some pictures of their wedding, and they seemed extremely happy. "Mr. Foley, can I speak to you for a moment in the hall?" Green asked. "Sure," I said. "Sir, this is a little more complicated than I've told you. We caught the guy who beat him up, and he claims Mr. Balch administered oral sex to him in the parking lot of the truck stop," Green said. "I see," I said. I thought about how Rick and I had made love earlier that evening. "This is beginning to look a lot like a hate crime, if that's true," the Sergeant said. "Yeah," I said. "If there's a trial, that will surely come out, and this boy's whole life here could be ruined," he said. "I see your point," I said. Ordinarily, when I heard about gay bashings, I wanted the victim to prosecute to the full extent of the law. In my mind, that was simple. But, I never thought I'd be in a situation like I was in that night. I was fully out to everyone, and having my sexual orientation argued in a courtroom didn't seem all that terrible. Suddenly, I saw the whole thing very differently from Kenny's point of view. "My advice to Mr. Balch is to forget about pressing charges. We'll do it if he wants to, but . . . " "Are there any witnesses to the beating?" I asked. "Yes, there are," he said. "Is the perpetrator under arrest?" I asked. "Not yet. We brought him in for questioning, but we haven't arrested him," he said. "So, technically, you could let him go tonight. Am I right?" "Yes, sir. That's right," he said. "Are you asking me to make a decision?" I asked, rather stunned that he might be doing just that. "I know it seems unorthodox, and I guess it really is, but in Mr. Balch's condition, I don't think we'd get a rational decision out of him right now. The perp is a local, so we can always arrest him later if Mr. Balch wants to press charges," he said. "Why don't you let me and my partner take him home tonight. We'll try to talk to him tomorrow and explain the situation to him. Our new next door neighbor is a lawyer. Maybe he can help," I said. "I'll let the perp go then," Green said. "Thank you for taking care of this boy." "We take care of lots of boys," I said. "Oh?" "We run a group foster home for gay boys," I said. He got a big grin on his face. "Then you know my good friend, Tyrone Williams, I'll bet," he said. "We know Tyrone very well," I said. "Small world," Sergeant Green said. "No. Small town," I said, and he laughed. Green went back into the office, but I stayed in the hall. I motioned for Rick to join me. "I think we ought to take him home to our house for tonight," I said. "Yeah, me, too. What's the scoop from Green?" "They caught the guy who did it. He says that Kenny gave him a blowjob in the parking lot of the truck stop where it happened. You heard his reaction to the mention of his wife. It's plausible to me," I said. "Yeah, I know," he said. "Why'd he beat him? Did Kenny not swallow?" I laughed, and Rick did, too. I went back in Sergeant Green's office. "Come on, Kenny. You're coming home with Rick and me," I said. He looked like he was a lot calmer than he was when we first got there. "Okay," he said. "Where's your car, Kenny?" Rick asked. "Truck stop," he said. "I wouldn't recommend leaving it there," Sergeant Green said. "There might not be anything left of it tomorrow." "Where is this truck stop?" Rick asked. "It's not that far from here," Green said. "It's straight up this highway, about ten miles. It's on the east side of the road. You can't miss it." "Have you got the keys?" I asked. "Yes, sir," Kenny said. Once we were in the car and traveling, I asked, "Kenny, did the man rob you?" "No, sir," he said. "He just beat me." "Where's your wallet? The officer said you didn't have any identification on you," I said. "It's at home. I didn't want to be robbed, so I didn't bring it," he said. "Do you want to tell us what happened?" Rick asked. "No, sir," Kenny said. "Kenny, how old are you?" Rick asked. "I'm twenty-six," he said. "Well, Kevin and I are twenty-seven. We want you to call him Kevin and me Rick, and lose the 'yes, sir-no, sir' shit, too, okay," Rick said. "Okay," Kenny said. "You and your wife split up?" I asked. "Yes, sir," he said. "About a month ago. She put me out." "Are you upset about that?" I asked. "Not really. We should never have gotten married," he said. "Weren't you in love with her?" I asked, realizing all the while that I was prying into that man's personal life much more than was justified. "I liked her a lot, and I thought I could go through with it. It just didn't work out, though," he said. "Kenny, you know Rick and I are a gay couple, don't you?" I asked. If he didn't know that, he was the only one in the building who didn't know it. "I had heard that," he said. "Well, it's true. We're gay, and we have a houseful of gay boys, too. Foster sons," I said. He didn't respond to that news. "I'm telling you that to let you know that being gay isn't the worst thing in the world. Rick and I are extremely happy with each other, and our boys are happy, too," I said. Again, no response. "Kenny, are you gay?" I finally asked point blank. He didn't say anything, but he started crying. I took that for a "yes." "It's okay, Bubba," Rick said. Kenny was in the back seat, and I turned around to face him. I put my hand on his knee as a gesture of support, but he pulled away from me. "Did you know the man who beat you?" I asked. "Yes," he sniffled. "He's my brother's best friend." "Shit," Rick said. "He's telling the police you gave him a blowjob. It's really none of my business if you did or didn't, and I really don't care if you did. But that fact has implications for what you decide to do about pressing charges," I said. "I ain't pressing any charges," he said immediately. "Yeah, I gave him one, and, yeah, I am gay. I've been gay all my life. I've loved him all my life, too, but that was the first time anything like that happened between us. He hit me and called me a motherfucking faggot, Kevin. I thought he loved me." He dissolved into tears. We were just getting to the truck stop, and there was a fleet of eighteen wheelers parked there for the night. There were only a handful of cars in the car-parking area. "Which one is yours?" Rick asked. "That little Escort over there," Kenny said through his tears. "Babe, I'll drive his car," I said. "I don't think he needs to drive right now." "Good idea," Rick said. "See you at home." Rick leaned over, and we kissed, as much for Kenny's benefit as our own. "We're going to stop and get something to eat," I said to Rick. "Okay. See you at home," he said. Kenny got in his car with me. "Are you hungry?" I asked. By then it was five o'clock, and I was more than a little hungry. Plus, I wanted a cigarette badly, and I hadn't thought to bring mine with me. "I didn't eat last night," he said dully. "Let's get some early breakfast," I said. I pulled into a Waffle House parking lot. There was a gas station-convenience store that was part of a complex of retail places, and we went in and I bought myself a pack of smokes. "Do you need anything?" I asked Kenny. "I could use some smokes, too," he said, so I bought him a pack. I bought each of us a plastic lighter, as well. Spare no expense, I thought, ironically. Once in the Waffle House, we both lit up. The waitress took our orders, and we sipped our coffee as we smoked. "Do you know what has four tits and two teeth?" I asked. He looked at me without any expression. "The midnight shift at a Waffle House," I said. Emerald Beach was widely reputed to have the greatest number of Waffle Houses and Waffle Shops in the country, per capita, and that was an old joke among the locals. Kenny at least thought it funny enough to smile. "That's an old one," I said. "I know. I've heard it all my life," he said. Whatever mirth the joke had engendered was soon gone, and he had a look of utter sadness on his face. "Does your face hurt?" I asked. "Why? Is it killing you?" he said, finishing the old joke. "I meant that seriously, Ken," I said. "It looks like that bruise might hurt." "It doesn't hurt bad. I mean, I can feel it, and it burns a little, but I don't really have a headache or anything," he said. "But you're sad, aren't you?" I asked. "Yeah, I guess I am," he said. "I guess I pretty much fucked up my life tonight." "No, you didn't, Kenny," I said. "I don't know," he said. "What makes you think that you did, man?" I asked. "Well, getting you and Rick out in the middle of the night, coming out to y'all, having Wayne beat me like he did. That's pretty fucked up, don't you think?" he said. "There are other ways to look at that. First, you found out that Rick and I care enough to get out in the middle of the night. Second, you found out that Rick and I don't care if you're gay. Third, you found out you don't have a future with Wayne," I said. "I think that's a hell of a lot of good stuff to learn in a night. I don't consider that fucking up at all." He smiled an ironic smile. "When you put it that way, I guess not," he said. "And that's the way we have to look at it," I said. "Here you are, boys. Enjoy your breakfast," the waitress said, as she laid down our platters of food. "I counted three teeth," he said, in all seriousness. "I counted five," I said, and he and I both laughed hard. That joke definitely turned a corner in Kenny's mood that night. We ate our platters of scrambled eggs, sausage, bacon, grits, and toast, with a waffle on the side. Toothless came back several times to refill our coffee cups, and she actually seemed like a pretty nice girl. She also actually had a mouthful of teeth, too. It was starting to get light when we left the Waffle House. I had been running on adrenalin for several hours at that point, and I was aching to get back in bed with Rick. I put Kenny in one of the empty bedrooms on the third floor. Murray had moved down to the second floor after Paddy had gone home, so the third floor was empty. As I was creeping down the stairs, trying my best not to make any noise, I heard a loud whisper. "Kevin!" It was Kyle. "What? Go back to bed. It's too early to get up," I said. He came out of the bedroom and walked toward me. He was naked and half hard. "I woke up to go to the bathroom. What are you doing up here?" he asked. "It's a long story. We'll tell you all about it in the morning. There's a guy on the third floor, so if you see him, don't freak out, okay?" "Who is he? Do I know him? Is he a kid?" Kyle asked. "No, he's not a kid. I don't know if you know him or not, but we'll talk about it tomorrow, okay?" I said. "It is tomorrow," he said. "I know, but I've been up since two o'clock. Please go back to bed and make Tim feel good, or whatever it is you do to him," I said. He grinned that grin of his that was half devil and half angel. "Okay, but you've got me so excited about this news that I'm trembling," he said. He wasn't trembling one damn bit, but it was cute the way he said it. "Go to bed," I said. "I love you." "I love you, too. Good morning." When I finally got in bed, the warmth Rick's body had already made there enveloped me. I snuggled up to him, and he instinctively put his arm around me. I was out in less than a minute.
Brian and I woke up hard that Sunday morning, just like we did every other damn day. I saw a difference between an erection, which happened by nature, and a hard-on, which happened by Brian. Those things in the morning were definitely erections, and there wasn't anything good you could do with them until they turned into hard-ons. He got up to pee first, and, when he did, it was like he opened a hosepipe into the toilet. He didn't flush it because he knew I was right behind him. It took me a few seconds to get the stream started, but when it started, it started big. He was grinning his ass off at me when I came back into the bedroom. "What are you being so cute about? Huh?" I said. "I'm not being cute," he said. "Oh, yes, you are," I said. We were both smiling big at each other. "No, I'm not. I'm being horny," he said. "Is this thing right here giving you trouble?" I asked. I had his dick in my hand, and it was growing fast. "Yeah, it is," he said. "I want this in me today," I said. "Really?" he asked, sort of surprised. "Yeah, Little Buddy. I want you to fuck me," I said. "I've been thinking about it for a few days, and I need it." Brian was usually the bottom boy in our relationship, and he loved it. I had had some problems being the bottom for a good while, but he had started topping me some lately. I knew he enjoyed being the top now and then, and I had started wanting bottom more, too. Everything about Brian being the top was good. He knew just how to loosen me up, get me so hot for him I couldn't wait, and then he pressed home the business like a champion. That morning he fucked me so good I almost passed out. There are just a few seconds between the time your orgasm begins and the time you shoot cum, and that is the most intense. That morning it was so long I didn't think I would ever shoot. He flopped down next to me after he pulled out, and he was covered with sweat. I licked a little off his face, and he grinned. We laid there resting for a while until we got our breath back, and I was thinking the whole time how lucky I was. I didn't just mean lucky in the sex part, although that boy really knew what to do with a dick. I was just pure lucky to have him. After ten minutes or so, I lit up a cigarette. He picked it up out of the ashtray and took a big drag. He inhaled the smoke, and he didn't cough. "Have you started smoking?" I asked. "That's the first drag I've had in a long time. The last time was with you," he said. "Well, that's been months, then," I said. "Yeah," he said. "It's making me a little bit light-headed." "That light-headed stuff is what got me hooked, I think," I said. "Do you still get light-headed?" "If I go a couple of days without smoking I do," I said. "Let's get up," he said. I stabbed out my smoke, and we took a shower together. We both got hard again in the shower, and we took advantage of that. Isn't that what Sunday mornings are for? * * * When we went downstairs, Kyle and Tim were already in the den. They had gotten in the Sunday papers, but they hadn't opened them yet. "What the hell have y'all been up to?" Kyle asked. "None of your damn business," I said, "but it was probably the same thing you and Tim were doing." "You've got to tell me. I'm keeping the official sex database on this house," he said. "Kyle, you're so full of bullshit, there are cows stampeding to this house from all over Emerald Beach," I said. "There aren't any cows in Emerald Beach," he said. "Not true. I saw two in a convertible with the top down just yesterday. Alabama tag on the car, too, of all things," I said. They all laughed. "Oh, that kind. Jesus, that's the worst," Kyle said. "Yeah, and they're both craving bull gravy, Kyle. Yours," I said. "What the hell is bull gravy?" Kyle asked. "It's your cum, man. They're craving your cum, Kyle, and they're coming here to get it," I said. "I never heard cum called bull gravy before," Kyle said. "Well, that's what they call it in some places. You don't know everything," I said. "I know. I know very little, and I'm the first to admit that," he said. "I think we're facing a lifetime of this kind of stuff, Bri," Tim said. "I know. Let's go make the coffee," Brian said. When they left the room, Kyle said, "There's a new guy here this morning." "How do you know that?" "I got up to take a piss real early this morning, and I caught Kevin creeping down the stairs. He told me he put a new guy on the third floor, and he's not a kid," Kyle said. "Well, who is he?" "He wouldn't tell me. He said he'd explain this morning. He said he had been up since two o'clock, and it was around six when I caught him," Kyle said. Just then the dogs came in with Brian and Tim, and the dogs were carrying a tray with coffee cups, spoons, cream, and sugar. It was a flat basket, and each dog had one of the little handles in her mouth. They set it down on the coffee table, and one of the cups fell over. Brian was so damn proud of that trick he was beaming all over himself. The dogs seemed proud, too. Kyle and I clapped. "How did you teach 'em to do that?" Kyle asked. "Patience," Brian said. "Bubba, I can't believe the stuff you've taught them to do," Kyle said. "We're going to set this up again later today so I can get some pictures of it, okay?" "Okay," Brian said. Brian and I had just made love twice, but when I saw how cute he was with those dogs, I boned right up. Of course, Mister Never-Miss-a-Thing noticed. "What's this thing all about?" Kyle asked, putting his hand on my dick. "It's about me loving Brian, Kyle, and get your fucking hand off of it," I said. "It don't belong to you, and you know it." "Sorry, Bubba. I didn't mean anything by it. You know that," Kyle said. "Yeah, I do. I'm sorry I snapped at you," I said. "You got that lovey stuff bad, though, don't you?" he said. "Shut up, Kyle," I said, laughing. "Can I have a cup of coffee, please?" "Don't change the subject," Kyle said. "Look, Kyle. I am totally and completely in love with Brian Mathews. Like you don't know that. Is that what you wanted to hear? And you know what else, Kyle? I happen to know you feel the same way about Tim that I feel about Brian. So fuck you, Bubba," I said. "I think you just came out to me," Kyle said. "I used to think the devil's name was Satan. But it ain't. It's Kyle, and, specifically, it's Kyle Goodson," I said. "I ain't the devil," Kyle said, laughing along with the rest of us. "It would take God to tell, Kyle," I said. "I'm picturing Kyle in heaven with a camera dangling from one of his wings," Brian said. Tim thought that was funny as hell. "Yeah, y'all laugh now, but when I sell those pictures of heaven to CNN, y'all ain't getting none of the royalties," Kyle said. Murray drifted down while we were still laughing from the last thing Kyle had said. He had the worst bed head I had seen in a long time, and he was still hard in those briefs. I liked that kid better than I ever intended to. In fact, I thought he was a pretty neat guy. "Good morning," I said. "Morning," he mumbled. "Brian, send the dogs back for a cup for Murray," I said. "I think I'd better get that," Brian said. Trixie and Krewe were right behind him. "I'm sore," Murray said. "Yeah? Who'd you spend the night with?" I asked. "What do you mean?" Murray asked. "Justin, he ain't sore that way, and you know it, you dumb fuck," Kyle said. He and I grinned at each other. "I don't know what you all are talking about, but volleyball isn't for me," Murray said. "It hurts too much the next day." "We've got to get your ass started on the weights, Bubba," Kyle said. "I know you're right, but, God, that sounds awful to me right now," Murray said. "We'll help you, Murray," I said. "And we can help you lose a few pounds, too." The boy was fat for his age and size, and there was no question about it. I had wanted to say something about it since the first day he got there, but I also didn't want to hurt his feelings, either. I figured that if he didn't trust us by now, he never would. It was time to take the bull by the horns. "I know I'm overweight," he said. "Murray, you know we're saying this stuff because we care about you, right? I mean, we're not making fun, and if you try, and still can't cut the weight, you will never hear about that from me again. But I want you to try. We all do. I think you'll be a lot happier," I said. "I know I'll be happier when I'm thinner and stronger. I just don't know how to do it," he said. Brian was back in the room by then with a coffee cup for Murray. "Weight Watchers is supposed to be one of the best diets," Brian said. "They have meetings once a week where they teach people how to lose weight, and they teach principles of good nutrition." "How will I get there?" he asked. "Bubba, look in the fucking driveway. We've got six cars in this family. We'll get you there and home. Don't worry about that. I could probably use me a little nutrition study myself. Basically, I just eat what they put on the table, but that might not be the best thing for me," I said. "Let's you and me join up together, okay?" "They won't take you," Brian said. "How do you know that?" I asked. "My mom has been a lifetime Weight Watchers member, Buddy. I've heard her talking about it," Brian said. "You have to be at least ten pounds overweight, and you're not. None of us are." "Yeah, but can't I go and just sit?" I asked. "Yeah, you can probably do that, especially if you're his ride. I'll go with you, too." "I wouldn't mind learning about good eating habits, either," Tim said. "Shit, I ain't staying home if y'all are all going," Kyle said. "I'll call tomorrow and find out the details," Tim said. "All my life I've been fat, and I've hated it. Nobody has ever hinted that I could do something about it, and now you guys are telling me you're going to go with me to Weight Watchers? I can't believe this," Murray said. "Believe it, Bubba. I pretty much call the shots in the kitchen around this place, and you're going to cut your weight. I guarantee it," Kyle said. "What the hell is this coming in?" I asked. I was referring to Denny who looked really tired and really sore. "Good morning. I think my arms died last night," Denny said. "Get your ass in here with your brothers, you little wimp," Kyle said. "You want juice, not coffee, don't you? What a pain in the ass." Denny grinned big, and Kyle grinned back bigger. Kyle got up and got him a glass of orange juice, though. "What's going on?" Denny asked. "We're talking about Murray's make-over, phase II," I said. "Oh," Denny said. "Oh? Is that all you can say?" I demanded. "Leave me alone, Bubba," Denny said. He was a cute boy, that's for sure. "Leave you alone? No. I'm going to pester the shit out of you all day today," I said. "Brian, make him stop," Denny said. It was cute the way he said that, and all of us laughed. "I'm hungry. I'm getting some of that coffeecake from yesterday," Kyle said. He got up and went into the kitchen. He came back in a few minutes with a platter of coffeecake. That stuff was really good, and he brought out a stick of butter to spread on it. Murray didn't need any of that, but we weren't starting Weight Watchers that morning. I noticed he downed about five pieces, with plenty of butter. That kind of eating was fixing to come to a screeching halt for him, but that day it was okay. One last fling. "Where are Kevin and Rick?" I asked. It was getting late, and "family time" was about over. "They were up till early this morning," Kyle said. "I ain't waking 'em up." "Murray, it's your turn to wake 'em up," I said. He got this horrified look on his face, like he thought I was serious. "I'm just pulling your dick, Murray. Don't really do it, man," I said. "I wish somebody was pulling my dick," he said, and we all laughed. |