Breakfast at Sally's café is a lumberjack's dream come true. The only question she asked was how I wanted my eggs. A platter with three slices of bacon, two sausage patties, three eggs and a stack of four flapjacks was placed before me. I looked at Charley's platter, he'd been served the same. And as I looked around I saw that every man who came through the door got the same.

Little was said until we were full. I didn't realize I had worked up such an appetite. If anyone had asked if I thought I could eat everything on that plate, I would have told them they were insane. I did manage to eat all but two of the pancakes. Charley cleaned his plate.

Sal topped off our cups. We just smiled at each other wrapped in our own thoughts until Charley looked at his watch. We hadn't spoken for the last ten minutes. "It's ten-thirty. I've got to go."

I walked out with him, telling Sal I would be back in a moment to pay for us both. We stood with his Harley between us, eyes locked until he nodded, mounted and started it. I stepped back and watched him disappear down the street.

I grabbed my book out of the saddlebag and sauntered back in. The table had been cleared. Sal had a fresh cup of coffee waiting for me. I sat and opened my book, then stared out the window. I contemplated the comfort we felt with each other. It awed me not having to speak to know what each other was feeling. This was something new to me and something that needed to be explored.

I forgot about the book until Sal broke into my thoughts. "I don't think you've read one word in that book since you opened it over an hour ago." I looked up at Sal and then at my watch. She was right. "May I sit down?" she asked.

"Of course."

"Are you okay, Jake?"

"Sure, I'm fine."

"Why don't I believe you? Last night you came in here looking like a kicked dog. Today you look the same, but confused."

I smiled wryly. "So, do you want me to sit up and bark, or just roll over and play dead?"

"Jake," she admonished. "I want to be your friend. You can talk to me. I'm a good listener."

"I walk in off the street and you want to be my buddy and confidant. Why, Sal?"

"Because, Charley has decided you are someone special, Jake. I can see it in the way he looks at you. And I can see that you are confused, and at odds with his decision."

I studied her for a moment. "Tell me about Charley. Maybe you can clear up some of my confusion."

It was her turn to study me. "If Charley finds out I told you any of this he'll probably string me up by my thumbs."

"It's between you and me, Sal."

"Alright." She took a sip of her coffee. "Like I told you, Charley and I go way back. Grade school. I still live next door to his parents. Charley and I have always been close friends. In high school he dated a lot. Seemed like it was a different girl every week. He was a football jock. Most popular guy in school. Always enthusiastic. The girls all worshiped him."

She paused and stared out the window a moment. "The day after graduation he disappeared for two years. He'd joined the marines and told only his parents the morning he left.

"When he came back he was different. Subdued. He got a bachelor degree at our local college and then joined the police. In the last three years I have never seen him with a woman, or a man for that matter. He'll come in with some of the other cops sometime. He laughs and jokes with them, but... I get the feeling that his mind is somewhere else.

"When he's here by himself, he sits at the end of the counter." She nodded with her head toward the stool next to the restroom alcove that Charley had debated sitting at last night before he came over and sat next to me. "I've watched him time after time. He checks out each person who comes through the door. No expression on his face, like he's just doing his cop thing. Once in a while his eyes linger a moment longer on a man, like maybe he's searching for more than what the eye can see.

"I was watching him last night when he came out of the restroom and saw you, Jake. It was like a light turned on in his eyes. His expression came alive as the two of you talked. Not since grade school have I seen him as happy as he looked last night when he came back in and saw you waiting for him."

I listened with a contrite grimace. I'd seen the look that she described. I just didn't want to recognize it. "I don't want Charley falling for me. He's got too much to offer to settle for the likes of me." I muttered.

"And what is wrong with the likes of you, Jake? I see a big handsome man with the most soulful big brown eyes. You told me you're on the rebound. It's obvious to me that some jerk has really hurt you, but..."

"Yeah, I don't want to go through that again."

She pulled the story out of me of what I'd gone through with Jim and how his callous shunning hurt me.

"So you left him, you were feeling that your love, the love you offered him, was worthless. Therefore, you're not worthy of anyone else's love."

I frowned at her. How could she know that was what I was feeling. Sal changed directions on me. She caught me open and bleeding and yanked the thorn from the wound.

"Jake, what color are Jim's eyes?"

"Blue? No, brown. Hell, I don't know."

"Can you tell me what color eyes Charley has?"

"Sure. They're kind of blue and green at the same time. Like looking into a deep clear pool of water."

At that moment her first customers for lunch came in. Sal slid out of the booth. She laid a hand over mine. "Just some food for thought, Jake," she said as she left to wait on them.

"Yeah, a whole big platter full," I mumbled as she walked away. But as I sat there thinking about it, I realized that I felt healed.

Soon the café started filling up. I closed my book and went to the cash register.

"You're not staying for lunch?" Sal asked as she took my money.

I grinned and shook my head. "After that huge breakfast I may not eat again until tomorrow."

"Maybe, I'm hurting my own business," she conjectured.

"Nah, a working man can work that off in a matter of hours. If Charley comes in tell him I'm following his orders."

She raised her eyebrows in inquiry.

"Just tell him." I laughed and strode out the door.

I went to the hotel packed up my duffle and stopped at the desk to turn in my key. The wizen little man behind the desk looked askance at me. "Expensive storage just for a duffle." He commented.

I smirked at him. "Yeah, but worth every penny."

I went back to Charley's. Without thinking about the other bedroom, I walked into his with my stuff. His scent filled my nostrils. I sprawled on the unmade bed. It smelled of our coupling. I lay there with a hardon and relived the few hours we had spent together. Had I only known Charley since yesterday? I considered what I was doing. Did I really want to get into a relationship with him? Would it be just an affair? I knew that with Charley it would have to be for a life time. Was I ready to commit my life to him? Was I insane to even think these thoughts?

Less than forty-eight hours ago, I was flying low on my Indian, fleeing from rejection. As I thought about those last moments with Jim I could see the steely glint of his hard expression and I wondered again what color his eyes were. I consciously superimposed Charley's face. His beautiful deep liquid eyes filled me with warmth. No, I decided, I'm not insane, not where Charley is concerned anyway.

With that decision, I glanced at the bedside alarm clock and saw that I still had nearly four hours until Charley would get home. I pulled the messed sheets off the bed and stuck them in the washer. There were a few dirty dishes in the sink. Rather than just stick them in the dishwasher, I hand washed and dried them.

I'm not a great cook, but I can put together a mean Beef or Lamb Stew. I searched the kitchen cabinets and found a Crock pot. I headed out to the grocery that I had seen earlier. After gathering the meat and vegetables, I picked up salad fixings. A pint of French vanilla ice cream, a bag of frozen strawberries and a jar of chocolate fudge sauce would make a fine frozen bombe for dessert.

Back at Charley's I got the meat browned, the veggies cut up and all of it simmering in the pot. I'd made a point of browning a bit of onion just to fill the house with the aroma. The salad was made and being refrigerated. The ice cream and strawberries had been stirred together, molded into a dome and put back into the freezer. I set the table for two.

Then in cleaning mode, I wiped the whole kitchen down, mopped the floor and started on the living room. It was clearly a man's room. Bare of all the little knickknacks that women seem to take pleasure in. Real landscape oil paintings and water colors hung on the walls. I was impressed. In college I had taken a couple of art appreciation courses, and from what little I knew, I figured these were mostly California Plein Aire landscapes from the '20s or '30s.

The furniture was all dark wood and leather. One big area rug made up of rectangles in shades of green covered the hardwood floor in front of the fireplace. On the mantel there were several framed pictures. As I cleaned the glass on each, I studied each person in them. Most of them were of his family. There were some obviously taken in his high school days with friends.

But there was one that stood out. The guy in the photo was obviously a Marine. His hair was cut high and tight. He was barefoot, wearing jeans, no shirt and he had a body to die for. Charley, dressed the same, and looking into the camera, stood next to the guy who was looking at him when the picture was taken.

I picked up a magnifying glass from the coffee table and studied the fellow. The expression on his face told how he felt towards Charley. I felt a twinge of jealousy, no, not jealousy, it was more just envy that I wasn't the fellow in the picture sharing that moment in Charley's life. I wiped the glass and set it back in its place, wondering where the fellow was now. After dusting the whole room I stood in the kitchen doorway and looked it over. Yes, it was definitely a man's room.

All was ready for Charley. It was after seven-thirty. He should be coming through the door any moment. I was getting nervous. Since the television set was in the bedroom and I wanted to be in the living room to greet Charley as he came through the door, I dug out the book I was reading and sat down in one of the comfortable chairs by the fireplace. It looked like it was a place Charley spent time. The side table had a pair of reading glasses and a couple of books. The bridge lamp was perfect for reading. I opened my book and stared at the door.

By eight-thirty I was getting aggravated. I turned off the crock pot, grabbed a beer out of the fridge and sat glowering at the door. The anger didn't last long. I began to imagine all the things that could keep him from at least calling.

At a quarter to nine I turned out the lights, locked up and headed for the café praying that Sal would still be there. The closed sign was in the window, but she was inside. The moment she saw me she knew something had happened to Charley. She picked up the phone and called the police station. I watched her blanch as she listened.

I knew it. I knew with my rotten luck I should've stayed away from him. Then he'd still be alive. When she hung up she looked at me with the tenderness of a mother. I didn't want to interpret the look. I tried to ask. "He's... He's....." I bit my lip to keep the emotion bottled.

"He's been shot. He's in intensive care."

"He's alive? The son of a bitch is alive?" I grabbed her around the waist and swung her into the air. "Oh God, I'm going to kill him when he gets better."

Sal laughed heartily. After I set her back on her feet, she became solemn. "Now you know why I'm not married," she muttered and walked to the cash register stand.

"What do you mean?"

She shook her head, grabbed her sweater and handbag and turned out the lights. She grabbed my arm pulling me out the door so she could lock it.

"You want to ride with me?" she asked.

"Where are you going?"

"Jake, I'm going to get you in to see Charley."

"You can do that? Wait a minute. Is he awake? He can have visitors? Why didn't he call me? But... but you said he's in intensive care."

"Slow down and back up. I'm sorry, I should have told you. He's under sedation right now."

"I'd still like to see him."

"So do you want to ride with me?"

"I'd better follow. I don't want to leave my bike here."

I followed her for about fifteen blocks and parked beside her in the hospital parking lot.

"He stopped by during lunch," she told me as we hurried inside. "He told me he'd found his soul mate in you. I'd never seen him so happy." We went directly to the elevators. When the doors closed, she said, "Let me do the talking. You just follow my lead."

A pert little redhead looked up as we approached the Nurse's station.

"Sally! What brings you up here?" she asked and shifted her gaze to me. "And who is this handsome man with you?"

"Hi Judy, This is Jake Shipman. He is a close friend of Charley Hill's. He needs to see him."

"Sal, you know hospital rules. Family only up here."

"Judy, what I'm trying to tell you is that Jake is closer than family."

Judy looked at me and then back at Sal. She looked back at me and nodded her head speaking directly to me.

"Alright, you can go in to see him, if.... the police officer outside his door permits it."

"They told me that it was a lone sniper that shot him and that they had arrested him. Why the guard?" Sal asked.

Judy looked back at Sal. "Why don't you ask him. It's Bubby."

"Bub Collins?"

Judy nodded. Knowing looks were exchanged between the two women. I figured Nursie had the hots for the Cop.

Moments later Sal was introducing me to a big Irish bear of a man. For a moment I envied Judy. The guy was a living huggy bear.

"Bill this is Jake Shipman. Jake, Bill Collins."

As big as I am I felt dwarfed. My hand disappeared into his huge paw. I was sure I'd draw back a nub, but he was as gentle as he was huge.

"Charley and I have been buddies since grade school. If you're a friend of his, then you're a friend of mine. Call me Bub."

I smiled and nodded.

"So what happened, Bub?" Sal asked.

"Fortunately, there was an eyewitness. As the sniper was aiming, he called 911. He was on an overcrossing, aiming into the street below. The witness said he shot three fast rounds. One hit Charley at the base of his neck, went through the muscles. One blew his front tire. The motorcycle flipped and landed on his leg. He lost a lot of blood."

"So can we go in and see him?" Sal asked.

"Hey, if Nurse Judy says you can, who am I to object." The way he said 'Nurse Judy' made her sound as scary as Nurse Ratchett, but he grinned as he said it. "Sure go on in. He's out like a light though."

I noted first off that he did have his left arm bound to his torso so he couldn't move the shoulder muscles, his neck was in a padded metal brace and his left leg was in an open cast from his foot to just above his knee. The tube going into his arm was dark. I glanced up at the bag. He was still being fed blood. He also had an aspirator in his mouth and an oxygen tube in his nose. He was pale.

I took his chart hanging on the end of the bed and glanced through it.

Sal was looking around my arm at the chart.

"Can you decipher that mumbo jumbo?" she asked.

"Yeah, I can, see this is his blood pressure reading. It's still a little below normal as is his temperature. He was in surgery two and a half hours. Both his tibia and fibula were broken, those are the two bones in the lower leg." I pointed at the cast. "They put spikes and pins in both." I said, pointing to the nearly indecipherable scrawl. Then, briefly, I told her about my Army days. I shuddered, recalling my days during Desert Storm. I'd been a field medic and had to prep many badly injured men for surgery. I wondered briefly if Charley had been over there, too.

I moved up to the side of the bed and took Charley's hand and gently squeezed it. His eyes opened, but didn't seem to focus.

"Hey, Charley," I said.

"Jake, you came to see me?" he murmured.

"Of course, I did."

"That's so good." His eyes closed and he fazed out again. I leaned down and touch my lips to his forehead.

"What the hell!!" someone behind me yelled.

'Uh oh,' I thought as I straightened up. I turned to see who had let out the explicative, and looked into the face of a shorter, little older version of Charley. He was a bit overweight and dressed like country club; light blue Polo shirt, grey slacks, shiny narrow leather belt and matching shoes. 'Versace,' I thought. I smiled at him. He ignored it and turned to Sal.

"Who is this guy, Sal, and why did you finagle him in here?"

"Robert this is Jake Shipman. As to who he is.... you'll have to ask your brother when he wakes up. I brought him here because that's what Charley wanted."

"You both need to leave. Charles needs his rest to recuperate." He still ignored me as he held the door open for us to exit. As soon as we were out of the door, Robert started haranguing Bubba for letting us go in.

"Robert, stop being a stick. It's what Charley wants."

"Charley is under sedation. How could you people know what he wants."

"If you don't believe me," Bub yelled, "ask Charley when he wakes up."

"I will!" Robert yelled back as he strode to the Nurse's desk.

"And you, Judy," he yelled, pointing a finger at her. "I'll have your job come tomorrow."

"Robert calm down before I have to call a guard to remove you."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Don't bet on it, Brother-in-law of mine." Judy smiled sweetly with malice in her eyes. I figured her sister was any thing like Judy, she must be the one who actually wore the pants in Robert's house, at least she controlled the sex. Sal took my arm and we headed for the elevator. Robert quieted down.

"Thanks a million, Judy," I said, as we passed her desk. I couldn't help myself, I just had to say something to Charley's brother. "And it was so nice meeting you, Bobby."

"Oh, fuck off, you damned cocksucker." He muttered.

Three things happened at once. Judy stood up sending her chair ricocheting into the metal cabinets behind her, making a huge racket, as she yelled, "Robert!" Sal, who was close to him, turned, and slapped him, saying, "Shame on you!" And I stepped up to him and grabbed him by his shirt front, pulled him up against my chest and said low enough that only he could hear, "You may be Charley's brother, you greasy creep, but you have never seen me before and you have never seen me suck cock." I said through clinched teeth. "You don't know what I am. Don't go jumping to conclusions that could get your head staved." I thrust him away.

He stumbled backwards and looked contritely at each of us. "I'm sorry. I apologize. It just upsets me when Charley gets hurt." He turned to me. "And it surprised me to see you kiss him."

"I kissed him on the forehead. He's a friend."

"I-I can see that. I'll make sure the rest of the family will be okay with you coming to visit. Again, I'm sorry."

"And I apologize, too. Let's start over." I held out my hand. "I'm Jake Shipman, a friend of your brother."

His smile was sheepish. He took my hand in a firm grip. "It's good to meet you. I'm Robert, Charley's brother."

I called the hospital the next morning to see how Charley was doing. I expected a referral to his parents, not a nurse gushing, "Oh, Mr. Shipman, Charley's doing great. I heard him asking if you had returned."

"Could you tell him I'll be there in about an hour?"

"Yes, Mr. Shipman, I certainly would be happy to tell him. Thank you."

"And thank you. Miss .....?"

"Oh, you can call me Kathy."

"Well, thank you Kathy."

Nurse Kathy swooned when I stepped up to the desk, introduced myself and asked if I could go in to see Charley. As I pushed open his door a tall stately woman stood to greet me. I knew she was Charley's mother. Her hair was a mixture of pale gold and silver. She had Charley's heartwarming smile.

"You must be Jake," she said offering her hand. "I'm Gloria Hill. Charley was asking for you earlier."

"It's nice to meet you, Ma'am."

"Please, just Gloria."

I smiled and nodded. "How is he?"

"He's doing fine. The doctor said he could be moved to a regular room tomorrow morning."

As she spoke I took his wrist, put my fingers on his pulsing artery, and looked at my watch, counting. Gloria asked if I was a doctor. I smiled and shook my head, "Army Medic."

"Charley was in the Marines during Desert Storm. Is that where you met?"

"No, Ma'am. Although, I was there, too."

"Where did you meet?"

"Here. In Kirksville."

"Really. Have you known each other long?"

"No, not very long."

I knew she was sniffing for something fishy. I covertly squeezed Charley's hand, willing him to wake up.

"Charley has never mentioned you until this morning. When did you two meet?"

Charley's hand tightened on mine as he woke up. "Jake, you're here. I'm so happy you came back." His voice was a little raspy.

I turned my attention to him, thankful I hadn't had to answer his mother's last question, even though it seemed to hang in the air.

"Yeah, Big Guy, I'm here. How are feeling?"

"Achy. Achy numb. I'm not really feeling much. I guess I spoiled dinner last night."

"How did you know I was fixing dinner?"

"Just hoping." He grinned at me.

"It was only a stew. I stuck it in your freezer. We can thaw and eat it when you get home."

"I like the sound of that. We."

His smile wrapped itself around my heart. "Yeah, it does have a warm ring, doesn't it?"

"I'm having a hard time staying awake. Will you still be here when this stuff wears off?"

I glanced at his mother who gave me a nod.

"Sure, Charley, I'll be right here."

I watched him, his smile slowly faded as he slipped back into a drug induced sleep. His grip on my hand relaxed. I laid it back to his side, sighed, and turned toward his mother. She had settled back into the only chair in the room. It was a military looking club chair, metal and green Naugahyde.

"There's a straight chair outside the door. Bring it in and sit down."

It was the one Bubba had been sitting on last night. I set it next to the bed, the back towards her, and straddled it resting my arms on the back, my chin on my arms. I was ready to be grilled.

Gloria studied her folded hands. "Chess, my husband, and I have several times discussed the possibility of Charley being Gay. I guess what I just heard confirms it."

I didn't respond. She looked up at me. "How long have you two been together?"

"We're not together. I'm just a guest in his home at the moment. I'm from UniCity. Just visiting your fair city."

"So you're just a-what is that word? A trick that he picked up?" she was studying her hands again.

"Is assumption a family trait?" I asked.

She glanced up, startled.

I kept my chin on my arms, my voice level.

"Last night, your son, Robert, called me a faggot and worse for kissing Charley on the forehead. Now you're accusing me of being a faggot whore, because that's what a trick is."

"I would never..." She'd turned a deep crimson.

I cut her short. "At least not without softening it by using a euphemism. He does have a guest room, you know? What makes you think that I've been in Charley's bed? Because I was preparing dinner for him? He was working and I was just knocking around the house. I fixed a meal, so you assume I'm bedding your son. That's another nice little euphemism to take the bite out of what you're imagining about your own son..... bedding with me."

"I apologize, Mr. Shipman. I was in the wrong. I shouldn't have said what I just said. Please, forgive me."

"Forgiven and forgotten" I said as I thought to my self, 'Like hell'

She still didn't look up at me.

After a few moments of silence. I asked, "I'm curious, Mrs. Hill, if it turns out that your assumption about Charley is true will you disown him?"

Her head shot up. Her eyes were big. They were a light blue not deep like Charley's. "Good Heavens, no! He's our son. All we want is for him to find happiness." She looked over at Charley lying asleep on the hospital bed. "He hasn't ever seemed very happy. Even in high school when he was the most popular boy in school, he had a air of sadness about him. I could see it in his eyes. But he would never talk about why."

"So if he says to you, 'Mom, I'm Gay. I prefer men as my bed partners.' You're going to say. 'That's nice, Dear, we love you anyway.' "

She looked up at me with a great sadness in her expression. "Why are you baiting me, Mr. Shipman? What is it to you?"

"I'll be honest with you, Mrs. Hill, I think you son is one of the most beautiful men I have ever met. I'm talking about inside. His essence, if you will. He's kind, gentle, loving, caring. And if things work out right, I would be most happy to spend the rest of my life trying to make him happy."

"Do you really mean that, Jake?"

I don't know which one asked it, Charley or his mom, I think it was probably both. It didn't matter, I answered. "I mean it. And, Gloria, don't go assuming anything from what I just said. Wait until he tells you himself. "

"Jake?" Charley murmured.

I turned to look at him.

"I love you, Jake. I feel the same way about you." He took a deep breath. "Mom? I need to tell you something."

Gloria rose and stood beside me and caressed his cheek. "Yes, Son?"

"I love this man. He makes me very happy just by being near."

"I can see that son. So seldom have I seen this sparkle in your eyes. And that makes me happy, too."

It was then that an older version of Charley came in. Other than his hair being steel and a few wrinkles around his eyes, the man was the image of Charley. I stepped back so he could approach the bed. He glanced at me with a stern frown. He had blue-green eyes, not as deep as Charley's. The frown disappeared when he looked at his wife and an eyebrow raised ever so slightly at their silent communication and then he looked down at Charley with a broad smile.

"How's my boy this morning?"

"Better than ever, Pop."

"With a broken leg and a hole in your neck you're better than ever?" he chuckled.

"Yeah, it's true."

"And this young man behind me has something to do with that I assume."

Gloria glanced at me. I grinned. She couldn't help but smile back. I lost my antagonism.

"I want you to meet Jake Shipman. He is my soulmate, Pop."

The man turned and looked me up and down. He must have liked what he saw. He smiled and held out his hand.

"I'm Chester Hill, Chess. It's good to meet you, Jake. Do you feel the same toward my son?"

I took his hand and looked at my feet for a moment and than back up and met his eyes. I had to clear my throat before I could speak. "Yes. Yes, Sir, I do."

He kept my hand in a firm grip. I held his just as firmly. "You don't seem as sure about it as Charley," he said.

"It's so overwhelming. It happened so fast, but, yes, I am as sure as Charley"

He released my hand, and pulled me into a tight hug. "Welcome, into our family, Jake." He rubbed my back. My eyes got leaky. I'd grown up with a loving mother, but I could never remember getting more that a pat on the back from my father. When he stepped away Gloria followed his lead and gave me a hug, too. "Yes, welcome, Jake." Her voice lacked the warmth of her husband's. I wondered if she was feeling put out because her husband seemed to already know that their son was gay.

"So tell me about yourself, Jake." Chess said. "Who is this man my son has fallen in love with?" He sat on one haunch on the foot of the bed.

My face felt hot as the three of them looked at me. I cleared my throat again. "I'm a free lance writer. Several magazines have printed of my articles. I published a novel that got some notice, but didn't make the bestseller list. I've done a bit of ghost writing to make ends meet. And I've almost completed another novel that I hope will be more successful. My publisher seems to think it will be. He's just paid me a big advance on it." If possible I blushed darker after blurting out my résumé.

"And what brought you to our fair city?"

"Serendipity, kismet, chance." I shrugged.

"How long have you known each other?"

I grimaced. Charley spoke up. "I met him at dinner, day before yesterday, Pop."

Mr. And Mrs. Hill looked at each other a little shocked and then broke into big smiles.

"You're a chip off the ol' block, Son. I proposed to your mother the night I met her."

"And did she accept, Pop?" Charley asked.

"I most certainly did. Do you think I was going to give this wonderful man a chance to get away?" Gloria had wrapped an arm around her husband's waist. "But he still had to court me for six months before your granddad would agree to us getting married."

I was amazed at how casually Charley's parents had accepted him being gay. Charley reached out and took my hand in his. I knew at that moment that my life's course was set. I just didn't yet know how tumultuous it was soon going to get.