Moving On

You don’t own me
I’m not just one of your many toys
You don’t own me
Don’t say I can’t go with other boys

- The Blow Monkeys – You Don’t Own Me

 

Cody slowed for the hard curve to the right, maneuvered around it, then slowed more as he came to the drive to his home. Turning his ten-year old Chevy truck on the gravel drive, he made his way to the barn. The drive wound three hundred feet into the property, passing the garden beds on his left. Tomatoes, cucumber, okra, green beans, several varieties of peppers lay by the drive and behind them, other vegetable beds. To his right, fruit trees and blackberry bushes that were just starting to produce.

He eased along the gravel drive, the empty trailer he was pulling bouncing behind him. He passed his home, an old farmhouse that he was in the middle of renovations, and pulled to the metal barn, parking inside it. When he came out, he went to the old barn, a wood structure that was over a hundred years old. He had the interior set up for seed and feed storage, and along the side facing him, a chicken coup built within the side of it with a fenced area along its length. On the other side was pen areas for turkey and his two horses, Cordelia and Eleanor.

It was a small operation compared to the farm of his father and brother. They grew cotton, soybeans, wheat, and on occasion oats, all commodity crops that were sold at the grain elevator. There were no trips to farmer’s markets, the development of business relationships with restaurants, or the more intensive picking and handling of the crops.

Many of the community’s farmers said he was a fool, that it would be too hard, profits too low, but he wanted to try. He had read how others had operated and followed their lead. He sold to two restaurants in Mobile, over an hour’s drive away, and on Friday mornings found himself at the market in Monroeville, then Saturdays at the market in Evergreen.

It had taken him five years after graduating from high school to get to where he was self-sufficient. There were no more trips to the bank for loans to keep himself going, and the last year he had been digging himself out of debt. Slowly, month by month, the principal being whittled down.

His father had tried to get him to join Landon and him, but after months of arguing the point and with his mother’s help, his father finally relented, and supported his own pursuits.

As he strolled by the chicken pen checking on the birds, watching them peck and scratch at the ground, he tried to put his life in context. Five years he had been going his on way, three living in the old farmhouse after getting it livable. He was set up as he had dreamed about since he was fifteen. The only thing missing was someone to share his life.

Back in high school, he really thought things would be different. There was the possibility of a future with someone in his life. It had been in secrecy, and he often wondered if that had been the mistake, but he knew the truth. When Ryan left for college, it was over between them, for Ryan would never return. Ryan had complained of rural life and how he was going to college, then move to a city that he could live openly as a gay man.

Cody had pretended otherwise, went through that summer after graduation telling himself he could get Ryan to stay with him. But when August arrived and Ryan broke up with him, telling him they both had to move on for they had different life goals, he had been devastated by having to face the truth.

Shoes left on the porch, Cody headed straight to his bathroom, passing through a kitchen in disarray. Only one run of cabinets set in place along the outside wall, giving him a functioning sink. The remainder unfinished with upper cabinets and those for the island and the other wall sitting in the dining area. At times, it was overwhelming, but entering his bathroom, a room complete with a large shower and a five-foot long vanity with a small closet for towels, first aid kit, and extra toiletries, he got a sense of what his home would be like once he finished.

Stripped and shower running hot enough to steam up the room, Cody stepped under the spray feeling the tension and fatigue of the day slip away. As he soaped up his body, he went from tired to horny, cock getting hard as he stopped using the washcloth, instead using his soapy hand.

Cody walked back to his house after checking the animals then doing a walk through the garden to see what would need to be picked or attended to the next day. He tried to keep the work on Sunday to a minimum. He refused to sit in church with his parents and listen to another damning sermon, but as to the idea of a day of rest, he had to agree. When he worked seven days in a row, none stop for three or four weeks, he found himself so exhausted he just fell into bed as soon as he got cleaned up.

A glance at his watch showed it was nearing eleven thirty. He intended to go in and prepare a sandwich but found the idea of fish from Mack’s Fish House appealing. He would change shoes, wash his face and hands, then head to the small restaurant. He knew if he were to get there after twelve it would be packed with people coming from church, and he intended to beat them there.

Coming out of the back door, cleaned up a bit, he passed his truck and went to barn. Sitting next to his trailer was a Jeep CJ7. It had belonged to his great uncle, then his dad had gotten it to knock around the farm. Rust ate at the floorboards and the fenders, and three years ago the four-cylinder threw a rod. Cody talked his dad out of it, and it became one more project to occupy his time. He had repaired the body and given it a new coat of paint, keeping it white. Under the hood, it had a small block chevy connected to a new transmission. The transfer case, new seats, gauges for the dash, and axles were next on his list of things to do, but for now it was running.

He eased down the gravel drive and onto Old Salem Road, heading south. He would turn left on 47, then right on 84, heading southeast until he came to the intersection with 21 where Mack’s Fish House sat on one corner. The warm air swirled around him, making his shirt flap against his chest. He wore his cap backward to keep it from flying off his head and dark shades to shield his eyes from the bright summer sun.

There was something about riding in the open Jeep. The way he could see the road just below him, the openness of the vehicle, something that barely contained him. And even at a low speed, constantly steering to keep within the lines of his lane, there was an exaggerated sense of speed. Or maybe everything else just isolated everyone too much.

At ten till twelve, Cody pulled into the parking lot finding it busy, but not crowded. He slipped into a parking space, climbed down, and headed inside.

While waiting to be seated, Cody saw Shelly and Malcolm on the far wall deep in conversation. They had attended church where his parents went. Shelly had been 3 years younger and Malcolm four years younger, and he knew both were now in college. Seeing them in the restaurant made him realize they had to be on summer break, and he remembered those summers when Ryan was home from college. How they crossed paths, barely speaking to each other. And each time had made him feel like he had been stabbed in the chest. For three summers it had gone on, then the next summer, Ryan graduated from college and moved on with his life, Cody finally realized the finality of it. Ryan was truly gone and not coming back.

“Hey Cody, just one?” asked Cynthia, the hostess.

“Yeah, just me.”

She led him across the small dining room to a small two-top in the back corner. He sat with his back to the wall and when the waitress came, gave her his usual order. While waiting, he checked the news, then scrolled through a social media site, seeing old classmates post of newborn children, vacationing in the mountains or down at one of the beaches, or some trivial thing in their life, something that was important to them. To Cody, it did seem important. It spoke to a normal life, something he was struggling to make happen.

The waitress sat his plate before him and refilled his glass. As soon as she moved away, he began to eat. He was just finishing when a shadow fell over him. He set his drink down and looked up. Everything stopped. He heard none of the conversations going on around him. He didn’t notice the waitresses running back and forth from the kitchen. He could only see the person standing next to his table.

Their hair was longer and had blonde highlights in it. But there was the same lean build, the same blue eyes.

“Ryan?”

“Hey Cody. How have you been?”

“I’m good…and you?”

“I’m good.”

“What brings you back?”

“I…I’m just visiting mom and dad.”

“Where are you living now?”

Cody saw the slight flinch, the realization by Ryan that he had not kept up with him to know where he was living.

“Dallas.”

“Texas?”

“Yeah. It’s nice. You should…”

An awkward silence and Ryan looked around as if expecting someone to come over. Then he looked back at Cody.

“Can we talk?”

Cody sped down the interstate, struggling to control his speed. He was so agitated and flustered by Ryan showing up. It was late, the sun dropped below the horizon, and he was heading down I-65 in his truck, pushing his speed to the most he thought he could get away with on a Sunday night. The truck bounced over the control joints of a bridge as it rose in elevation. He had crossed the Tensaw River, then Middle River, and now the bridge was about to carry him over the Mobile River, the last in the vast delta above Mobile.

Ever since he had left his home, it played over and over in his head. Ryan leading him outside, then the two of them sitting in his Jeep after driving across the street down Hanger Road to a place they could park and watch for any planes landing at the small airport. None did while they were parked, Ryan talking about Dallas, how great it was, and all the bars and restaurants, and the openness of life there. To Cody, Ryan seemed to drone on and on, for how long he didn’t know. Then Ryan asked the question.

“Will you come back with me? Will you move to Dallas? I miss you, Cody, and think we could have a good life in…”

Cody hadn’t let Ryan finish.

“What changed after five years, Ryan? Why now?”

“There has been no one like you and…”

“This is bullshit.”

“Cody?”

“Ryan, I’m not moving all the way to Dallas only to find myself alone again when you decide to move on to the next enticing thing.”

“That’s not fair.”

“No, maybe not. But after the last five years, I’ve come to know very well how unfair life can be.”

 

Had he been too harsh. Cody didn’t know, but Ryan had caught him off guard, and asking him to move to Dallas had been a shock. Then he realized Ryan was compensating for something, like he had done in high school. Every setback in his life and Ryan would pursue something new, some pursuit or enterprise that would let him forget what had happened. Cody couldn’t live like that, always seeking something new, never allowing what he had to be enough.

But Ryan sitting next to him in the Jeep, the familiar body so close, tantalizingly, tempting him with just saying yes. In the end, he took Ryan back to his car and pulled away before Ryan could ask again.

The lights of Mobile lit the night sky, and Cody made his way downtown, maneuvering around the one-way streets until he was parking at the hotel with his registration. He checked in, tossed his overnight bag on the bed, freshened up, and headed out. A short stroll and he came to one of two gay bars nearby. Two options for seeking what he wanted. What he needed so desperately after crossing paths with Ryan.

Inside the first was a nice crowd, but Cody recognized most of them, and a few he had already fucked. He strolled to the bar, taking a seat at its end away from a group of guys laughing and joking around.

“Jack and ginger,” Cody called to the bartender who approached.

With drink in hand, he sat back and sipped at it slowly while scanning the room once again.

Cody threw a ten on the bar, nodded toward the bartender he was leaving, and headed out. The other bar was on the opposite side of the block, a short walk through the parking lot, and Cody soon found himself at its bar, drink in hand. It was karaoke night, something he didn’t care about, but was amused by the guy trying to hold a note at the end of some old disco song.

Movement to his right and he looked around to see someone he had not crossed paths with before. The guy stood a couple of feet away, ordering a vodka tonic. Cody sized him up. Average build, a little shorter than his own five eleven, with dirty blonde hair and goatee. Earrings in each ear, and tattoos visible along the right arm. Looking down, he saw how the ass filled out the tight jeans. The bartender came back, setting a drink down in front of him. Cody watched him hand the bartender a ten, take a long drink, then looked around giving him a smile.

“Hey, I’m Sam.”

“Sam, I’m Cody.”

Cody roughly tugged Sam’s t-shirt off, nearly causing him to lose balance. He worked those tight jeans undone, roughly pushed Sam back on the bed, then tugged the legs free. He stood by the bed letting Sam watch as he stripped out of his own clothes. The shirt, the jeans, then the boxers, standing naked before him stroking a hardening cock. Then he moved over Sam, straddled his chest, and pushed his cock over the lips, nose, and cheeks. He bounced it off the lips, then held it to them.

“Suck-my-cock.”

Each word spoken distinctly; each ‘k’ hard and gruff.

Sam took his cock and moved his head up and down, working his mouth on it. Cody held his head back and moaned at the feel of it. Then he held Sam’s head, and slow fucked the mouth.

Slow, then fast, Cody pumped his cock through those lips. Hands touched his ass cheeks, then fingers dug into them as he pumped his cock into the mouth faster and faster, until he was near release.

Pulling back, his spit-soaked cock flexed up and down in Sam’s face.

“I’m going to fuck you,” Cody uttered.

Sam smiled.

Cody held the legs behind each knee as he pushed forward, then down. He pressed the thighs against the chest angling the ass up off the bed. He shifted position and his cock aligned with the tight hole. He pressed against it, pushed slowly, feeling it resist his penetration.

“Fuck…do me…stick me,” Sam pleaded.

Cody pushed harder, feeling the tight squeeze on his cock, first the flared head, then inch after inch of the shaft. He pushed until he had his cock buried in Sam, hips pressed against that ass. Then he began to fuck, a slow steady pace, tugging upward until nearly slipping free, then pushing down, sinking all the way back into Sam. He slow fucked for as long as he could, increasing his arousal and the mutters from below.

Then fingers dug into his thighs.

“Harder. Fuck me harder,” Sam pleaded.

Cody felt the same need, this urgency to increase his pace. He sped up, thrust harder and faster, slamming cock into Sam’s depths.

He fucked relentlessly. Fucked until he felt the heat of his own skin. Sweat beaded up on his chest and back, trickled down his face, and rained down on the pinned body beneath.

He fucked until muscles burned from his exertions and his body was tightening. He pumped his cock into that ass until it felt so hard, he ached for release. Then he felt it swell thicker and he slammed down into the ass, jammed his abdomen against it, over and over, until spewing wads of cum into its depths.

He pulled free and knee walked back until he could see the spread ass, Sam still on his knees with head and shoulders flat on the bed. He stared at the gapping hole as cum oozed out and trickled down. He reached for his cock while watching the rivulet of cum and wasn’t surprised to find he was still rock hard. He felt it, this insatiable desire.

Cody reached down and took both ankles, jerking the legs out from under Sam. Flat on the bed, he moved over the prone body. He dragged his leaking cock up the left leg until it was rubbing over the ass. Then he buried it in him.

“Fuck!” Sam exclaimed, then uttered something into the mattress as Cody began to fuck.

“I’m not through fucking your ass,” Cody whispered breathlessly as he hammered cock into its depths.

“Damn…fuck me…do it,” Sam uttered after raising his head. Then he buried his face into the mattress and moaned.

Cody fucked with a steady rhythm, tugging his cock outward until nearly free, then pushing back into the depths of Sam’s ass. Over and over, he undulated over the prone body until it began to move with him. Ass rising, trying to take him deeper, then pushing down, pressing hard cock into the mattress.

Cody pulled out and rolled to his back.

“Get that ass on my cock.”

Sam moved with an urgency, straddling Cody’s waist, and dropping down on his cock. Facing Cody, he moved up and down until his own cock smacked wetly on Cody’s stomach.

“Yeah…ride my cock…get me off,” Cody uttered as he held the ankles and watched Sam’s ass move up and down on his cock.

Sam took his own cock in hand and stroked while fucking his ass on Cody’s cock. With his ass moving up and down, and the right hand a blur, Sam fucked himself to the point of release.

"I’m going to cum,” Sam uttered.

“Me too,” Cody exclaimed.

Cody tightened his grip on the ankles and held on as he pumped upward pushing his arousal to the point of release. Sam bounced off his abdomen with a relentless pace, then slammed down. Cum rained down on his chest and stomach and he opened his eyes to see the last of Sam’s load trickle out of the slit and get smeared down the shaft. He bucked upward, pushed his cock as deeply into Sam as he could and shuddered with release.

Cody let Sam shower with him, but they were exhausted and neither tried to start another round of sex. Back in the room, Cody watched Sam pick up his boxers then hesitate to put them on.

“Cody? Could I crash here tonight?”

Cody was hoping Sam would leave, for he thought he would be sated. But he reconsidered, thinking he might want that ass one more time come morning.

“Sure, climb in,” Cody replied as he slipped into the bed.

Cody woke to Sam sucking his cock. He was rock hard, and he moaned at the feel of lips and tongue on his cock. He reached down and held the head and pumped upward increasing his arousal.

“I want to put it in your ass,” Cody uttered, as he pushed Sam off his cock.

He moved with determination, roughly flipping Sam to his back. He stood on knees, held the ankles, spreading them wide apart.

“Put it against that ass,” Cody uttered.

Sam smiled as he reached between them, taking Cody’s cock, and holding it against his ass.

“Shove that cock in me,” Sam exclaimed.

It was Cody’s turn to smile, and he shoved forward, burying his cock in Sam’s ass. Then he began to fuck.

Cody came out of the hotel, grinning from ear to ear. There was nothing like a romp with some guy to forget another. But as he climbed into his truck, Ryan came to mind. The restaurant and Ryan showing up at his table, and later, asking him to move to Dallas.

An hour later, Cody pulled into his drive and eased down the gravel drive. He came to his house and frowned when he saw a rental car on the opposite side parked in front of the carport. The driver’s door swung open as he pulled next to the white sedan, and Ryan climbed out.

“Where did you go?” asked Ryan.

“Out.”

“All night?”

“Yeah. Why? Why do you care?”

Cody could hear the sharpness of his reply and knew he was being way too gruff. It served no purpose, and he struggled not to continue. He looked down, then across the bed of the truck at Ryan.

“Can we not do this?” Cody finally asked.

“Do what? Tell you that I love you and want you back. Is that so bad? Is it wrong?”

“Ryan, I don’t know what happened to make you fly back here and try to pick up where we left off, but…I can’t. I can’t do this.”

“You’re not even going to try?”

Cody rested his arms on the side of the truck bed and stared down at the ground. He suddenly felt exhausted. Just so damn tired, he wanted to go inside and crawl in bed. He looked up enough to see over the side of the truck.

“No. I tried before, and it wasn’t’ enough.”

“But…”

Cody cut him off. “Ryan, go home.”

He saw it, a tightening of the mouth, as Ryan climbed back into his car. Cody didn’t wait for Ryan to pull away. He pulled out his overnight bag and headed inside as he listened to tires crunch over gravel.

As he tossed dirty clothes in the washer, the short conversation replayed in his mind. He knew Ryan hadn’t given up, not yet. Ryan would wait for him in town at the places he liked to eat lunch or dinner. Or show up again sometime in the morning or afternoon, catching him in the garden or in the barn. It was frustrating to think of. Standing at the kitchen window, he looked out at the barn and the chicken coup, knowing he should check on them, but he was so tired, it could wait until the next morning. Instead, he set his glass in the sink, and headed to his bathroom. He showered again, then crawled into bed, sleeping until nearly five in the afternoon.

Driving slowly, unhurried, Cody cut across familiar terrain heading into Monroeville. It wasn’t his destination for dinner, but he had to go through his hometown to pick up the road north that would take him to Camden. He wanted to eat dinner somewhere he knew Ryan would not find him. What made him think of the diner in downtown Camden, he wasn’t sure, but he remembered seeing it last spring when heading to the boat ramp at the park on the Alabama River. A search online quickly found the diner, giving him its hours and menus for lunch and dinner.

The sun was low in the western sky to his left, sunlight cutting across the truck cab, as he drove north along Highway 41. The road ran straight for long sections, then curved through the woods that lay on both sides, sweeping left, then right, but always taking him further north.

Entering the small town, Cody saw it was as remembered. A scattering of buildings lining the highway and about halfway through, he turned on Broad Street, the road that had taken him to Miller’s Ferry. Today, his destination lay just ahead on the right and just past the county courthouse.

Pulling past the diner, seeing the group of people going in and diners at the tables along the front windows, he knew it was busy. He turned on the side street, parallel parking, then headed back.

At the hostess station, Cody surveyed the dining room. A black and white checkerboard floor and the far wall of the dining area revealed brick where the plaster had come loose. There was the cacophony of voices in conversation and the smells of food that made him realize his hunger. In front of him was a guy about his age, and between the two of them, an older couple. He assumed it was a son out with his parents, so he was surprised to see the couple stand in place as the guy followed the hostess to a table near the back.

Once the couple was seated, Cody was led to table along the near wall close to the back. He could see the guy ordering his meal, and once the waiter was gone, slide a book over and opened it, moving the bookmark to a place within it out of the way. Cody watched him, confident of not being discovered. The guy was absorbed in the book. For page after page, Cody watched him read, wondering about him as a person. He found him attractive, with thick black hair that concealed much of the face. But the jaw and mouth were visible, and Cody looked at the smooth skin along the line of the jaw, wondering about the guy’s age. He looked younger than first assumed.

“I’m Jason, and I’ll be your waiter. Can I get you started with a drink?”

The voice brought Cody’s attention back to his immediate surroundings and to the waiter standing by his table.

“OH, yes. In fact, I’m ready to order.”

Waiting for his meal, Cody kept watching the guy sitting less than fifteen feet. Another turn of page while taking a bite of food, the guy noticed nothing of his surroundings. Cody began to imagine who the guy could be. A local, for the way the waitress seemed so familiar of him, but the guy’s age still eluded him. A senior next fall, someone still in school, or maybe he recently graduated and was leaving in the fall for college, or maybe he was older than he looked, his own age even, someone making his own way in this place, much like himself. He was single, attractive, and alone for dinner, so he had to be gay, and as soon as Cody considered it, he almost scoffed aloud. How desperate could he be?

“Your dinner,” said the waiter, coming up to his table and setting a plate down in front of him.

“Thanks.”

“I’ll refill your tea in a minute but let me know if you need anything else.”

“I will.”

Cody gave the waiter another look. He was cute with his scruffy beard coming in and reddish blonde hair and trendy glasses, but his eyes caught the turn of a page, and the waiter was forgotten as he watched the other guy shift in position, lean forward just a bit. It looked like the book was at an intense part and the guy was really into it, leaning closer to the page.

The smell of his dinner brought Cody back to his meal and he picked up his fork. Every bite was satisfying. It was just what he was craving, and he took bite after bite, finishing half the plate before remembering to look over at his boy. The book was closed, the waiter walking away from the guy’s table. The totaling of the check, a credit card put away, and the guy climbed to his feet to leave. Cody diverted his eyes, and once the guy was next to him, gave him one last look.

For the next few days, Cody went around his farm doing the routine of feeding and watering animals, cleaning their pens, checking on crops, and picking the vegetables and fruit. He made his run to the restaurants, then set up at the farmer’s markets, selling most of the remaining produce and eggs. When he got home from the Greenville market it was Saturday, nearly five o’clock, and he was tired and hungry. He wanted to clean up and go somewhere for dinner, the idea of cooking just too much to consider. He had successfully avoided Ryan, except for Thursday night when Ryan showed up slightly drunk banging on his door. It had taken all he could do to remain calm while trying to talk to him while waiting on Ryan’s younger brother to come get him. Christopher arrived about fifteen minutes later and appeared to be just as put out by Ryan’s antics. There was an apology for Ryan’s behavior, then the forcing him into the front seat of his SUV. Cody had gone back into his house before they were even on their way. He had been relieved to see Ryan’s car gone the next morning.

He cleaned up and grabbed up his keys, wallet, and cellphone, knowing he was driving back to Camden. He had enjoyed his meal there and it was far enough away, there would be no chance of running into Ryan.

As he crossed the back porch, heading to his truck, he looked at the sun low over the western horizon, the sky vivid blue and clear, and how the temperature was not as high as it had been over the last week. He turned away from his truck and headed to the barn. He would take the Jeep, allowing him to enjoy the pleasant afternoon. But it would be the drive back after dark that would be the best, the night air swirling around the open Jeep as he drove home. A small pleasure, to be sure.

Downtown Camden seemed busier, streets lined with cars and a few people milling about on the sidewalks, but most were standing outside the diner, while others were seated at the few tables in front. It was surprising what one restaurant could do for a small town. He circled back around and pulled down by the courthouse, parked, then walked back up the block to the restaurant.

He came into the line and immediately noticed the guy from last time was in front of him once again. Only this time no couple was between them. Like before, the guy held a book in his right hand and Cody let his curiosity get the better of him. He stepped to the right and angled his head to read the title. Cloud Cuckoo Land by Anthony Doerr. It was a thick book, one he didn’t think he would have the patience to read, but the gold framed blue sky on the cover with one cloud in the middle intrigued him and he was tempted to ask about it, anything to start a conversation. Looking up, he saw he was too late, a waitress approached, then he realized he knew her. One of his former classmates. Julie Howard, or she was a Howard. He knew she had met a guy and gotten married a couple of years ago, but didn’t know much else, the two of them not close. As she drew near, he saw her smile his way and knew she had recognized him. He prepared to say hello, ask about her, when he realized he was wrong. He saw her look at the guy in front of him.

“Henry, you here by yourself again?”

“Hey, Julie. Yeah…I guess so. You got a table?”

Cody heard the husky voice, a depth that was surprising to hear from someone who looked so young. He didn’t notice Julie look around Henry toward him.

“Cody? Cody Matthews, what brings you all the way up here?”

“Huh, oh, hey, Julie. I’m surprised to see you. How have you been?” Cody replied, stammering as he saw the guy named Henry look around. There was thick black hair, but this time it didn’t conceal the eyes. Hazel, the eyes were hazel.

“I’m good,” Julie replied.

“I heard you got married.”

“Yup. I’m a Cunningham now.”

“And you live here in Camden?”

“Yeah, Stephen’s family lives just north of town.”

“Well, its good to see you, but I think you should sit…Henry, is it?”

“Yes, Henry, I’m sorry.”

“No problem,” Henry replied, looking back at Cody, and smiling.

“Henry, follow me, I got a two-top in back. Your favorite spot. Cody, I’m sorry, but it will be a while before I can sit you.”

“I can see your busy,” Cody replied, disappointed at the missed opportunity to watch this guy he now that he had a name, something that made it feel like he was just a bit closer to knowing him.

Henry took a couple of steps then stopped. “Julie, wait.” He turned to look back at Cody, then back to Julie. “If Cody is willing, I’d share my table with him.”

Cody felt breathless. An anxiousness he had not felt in a long time. He tried not to stare and noticed Henry doing the same, busying himself with placing his book on the edge of the table, then sliding it over a bit. Cody recognized the nervous gesture.

“Are you really okay with me sitting with you?”

“Yeah…yes, or I wouldn’t have offered. It’s just…it’s been a while since I sat with anyone for dinner other than my grandmother.”

“You don’t go out much?”

“No, not really. I work at my job, take care of my grandmother, and…read to pass the time.”

Cody saw another level of detail, things he had not noticed before. The book was a library book, the white label on the spine. Henry’s clothes were well worn, the edges of the collar and the hem along the buttons slightly frayed in spots. Henry’s hair was poorly cut. But the hazel eyes seem to glow from within and the smile, just the faintest curve upward, revealed so much more than the clothing.

“Sounds tough.”

A large exhale and a nod of the head. Cody realized it was an understatement.

“What do you do?” Henry asked, suddenly, his voice rising an octave.

“I have a small farm.”

“Wheat and soybeans?”

“No, vegetables, fruits, potatoes, eggs, chickens, turkeys…” Cody replied, then let his voice trail off when he realized he was about to start rambling.

“Whoa, sounds like quite the operation.”

Cody scoffed, louder than he meant too. “No, it’s nothing grandiose.” He shocked himself, wondering where he dug up that word.

“Sounds nice to me.”

“What do you do?”

“I work at the building supply store out on 41.”

A waiter came up to the table and Cody and Henry fall silent as they listen to the night’s specials, then give him their drink order.

“Hey, since you let me sit with you, let me get dinner,” said Cody.

“No, you don’t have-“

“Please; let me?”

Henry nods, then watches Julie sit a family of four.

“You must know her husband,” said Cody.

“Not really…I mean, I know Stephen, but he was three years ahead of me in school, so we’re not friends or anything. I know Julie from coming here too often. So, Julie and you were classmates?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me about yourself.”

“Not much to tell. Dad and Landon, my brother, are farmers, but soybeans, cotton, and wheat and occasionally oats or corn. Mom works with the county: educational board. She had been a teacher, but the county pushed her to apply for this new position, telling her it was more money, so she did it.”

“You close with your family?”

“Yes, but I don’t think they understand…dad, he thinks I should give up my farm and come work with Landon and him and mom…she…she had hoped I would go to college.”

“But you wanted to farm?”

“Yes, and the old Bradberry place came on the market right after I graduated. It had been perfect timing, and I thought I had everything set.”

“But you don’t?”

“Well, it’s just…I had hoped someone was willing to share it with me, but they left for college, then a life in a big city.”

A moment of silence fell over the table, Cody realizing he might have said too much and unsure what else to say. He watched Julie go to the wait station and speak to their waiter, then head back to the front where a young couple waited. The waiter returned with their drinks and took their orders. Then he heard Henry talk in almost a whisper.

“I had hoped to go to college, but it was beyond my means. My parents died when I was six and my grandmother took me in. Considering everything, she did the best she could, and way more than she should have, but it was just the two of us and…we didn’t have much.”

“I’m sorry about your parents.”

“Please, don’t be. I’m nineteen and…it has been such a long time ago. The funny thing, I didn’t realize we were so poor until I was thirteen. I thought I had everything. She let me roam the woods behind her place, thinking I was going only a short distance. But I went all the way down to the creek behind the high school. She took me to the library every Saturday I wanted to go, and she’d help me find the books I wanted.”

“Thus, your love of reading,” Cody nodded toward the book on the table.

Henry smiled, nodding his head. “It was a way for her to show me the world.”

“What made you think you were so poor at thirteen?”

“The horror that is middle school,” Henry replied with a sarcastic tone.

“Oh yeah, I remember how it was at my school All the little clicks and their cruelties toward anyone they deemed different or unsuitable.”

“I wasn’t bullied or anything, just never really included in anything. Someone would have a birthday party and most of the class would be invited but some of us, mostly the poorest, were not invited. I guess they knew we couldn’t afford to be buying expensive gifts for anyone.”

“That is cruel.”

“That’s life.”

The waiter approached their table, two plates in hand, and Cody and Henry fell quiet as they ate.

Cody was nearly finished and looked up to see Henry was too. There was a question he wanted to ask Henry. One that lingered in the back of his mind ever since they sat down. He didn’t have a clue how to ask, but he needed to know. But within the diner, the white noise of conversations, then the hazel eyes staring back at him, he couldn’t form the words. It was too much of a confession within the question.

The waiter approached and Cody pulled out his credit card, waving Henry not to take his wallet out. “I got this remember?”

“Thanks,” Henry replied.

The waiter took the card and headed to the wait station to process it.

“Where are you parked?”

“Oh, I’m on my bike.”

“You rode you bike?”

“Grandmother has a standing dinner engagement with her friends on Saturdays and tonight they were going up to Selma, so she has the car.”

“I’m parked at the courthouse; let me give you ride home.”

“No, its okay. It’s not far-“

“Henry,” said Cody, getting his attention, feeling he was making it more personal between them, something he desired. “I’m drove up here to just get out and knock around, a little detour to drop you off is nothing.”

Henry rolled his bike along the sidewalk, strolling along side Cody. Cody led them down to Court Street, where he could see the old Jeep parked a few spaces down.

“I’m the old Jeep.”

“Nice.”

“Save your judgement until you see it up close. Still needs a lot of work, but I enjoy driving the old thing.”

As they neared the Jeep, Cody found himself slowing down, fighting with how to ask, then wondering if he should just take Henry home and forget about it.

“What’s wrong?” asked Henry.

“It’s just…there is something I should tell you. I…I think you should know.”

“Know what? You’re not a serial killer, are you?” Henry replied, jokingly.

Cody smiled, then grew serious. “It’s just…you see the reason I’m alone…”

“Are you gay?” asked Henry.

Cody looked at the shadowed face, just a silhouette that gave no indication what Henry was thinking.

“Yes,” Cody replied, then exhaled slowly. It was like he could suddenly breathe again. No matter Henry’s response, he had come out with who he was when it came to his sexuality. At times, he felt it was looked upon with too much weight, that the sum of his person was more than who he desired sexually. But then there were times he knew how it defined him, made him different, something he wasn’t ashamed of, only wishing society was more tolerant of this difference. He watched for Henry to respond, maybe turn, hop on the old bicycle, and pedal away, or maybe get angry for sitting with him and by some association, imply he too was gay. But Henry just stood before him, a silhouette in the streetlight.

“Well?” Cody asked.

“Really? You’re gay?”

“Yes.”

Henry laughed, out loud.

“Do you find it funny?” asked Cody, feeling hurt for some reason he couldn’t work out.

“No, no, not like that. Oh god, this is too much. I never…”

“You never what?”

“I never thought I’d meet anyone like me.”

Cody stood at the back of his Jeep watching Henry lift his bike over the spare and set it down behind the seats. He watched the movement of the tall lean body, the flex of the arms, the way the torso moved, turned, and seemed to stretch when bringing the bike over the spare tire. He wanted to reach out, to help with the bike, to assist with lifting it, and he wanted to brush against an arm, touch it, maybe even caress the exposed bare flesh.

Henry was gay. They had that in common, among so many other aspects of two guys from this rural region. Henry had talked of feeling alone, wondering if it was how prisoners felt in isolation. Isolation: the term hit home. But they had crossed paths. The seemingly impossible, a random encounter among the chaos, and Henry was climbing into his Jeep.

“You getting in?” asked Henry.

“Just drive north on Broad, then turn left on 22,” said Henry as Cody buckled up then fired up the motor.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” asked Cody as he pulled out.

“Tomorrow? Nothing.”

“You want to ride up to Selma and get lunch?”

Henry was quiet, quiet for too long, and Cody looked over expecting to see a frown, a look of disapproval, still looking for something to ruin everything. Henry was grinning, foolishly, looking at him, then away.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” Henry replied, barely loud enough to hear.

About half a mile north, Cody slowed when he saw the sign for 22. He turned left, smiling at the name of the street. “Whiskey Run Road? I guess we know where the moonshine runners lived.”

“My great-grandfather and his brothers did it.”

“Really?”

“You sound surprised.”

“Yes, a little.”

A short drive, through a residential area, past an abandoned building and a large open grass area, they came to another highway.

“Keep going straight and when you pass the road leading to the high school, it will be the next right.”

Cody crossed the major highway and accelerated, but not much over twenty-five miles per hour. He wanted more time with Henry, to continue talking to know more about him and just to hear his voice.

“If you could go to college, what would you have studied?”

“Wildlife ecology, or something like it.”

“What would you do with that kind of degree?”

Henry didn’t respond for a second, and when he did he talked with a seriousness that was different from before.

“I wanted to work to protect our woodlands. I love them, walking among the trees and finding these special little places within them. A spring, or stream, a rock outcropping, or some fallen tree where…life was crawling all around.

“We call these places wild. Such a conceit when you think about it. If we don’t have control over a place, we call it wilderness, wild, like it is somehow bad. The place that is wild, out of our control are the places we have paper mills, chemical plants…” Henry fell silent, then continued at almost a whisper. “Places where we’re destroying everything.”

“So, you want to protect forest and plant trees?”

“Yeah.”

“You can do that without a degree. You could just do it.”

“How? I don’t own any land. Cody, turn here, Union Grove Road.”

Cody slowed, then made the right turn.

After a short straight heading north, the road curved, to the right, then hard left, angling toward the northwest past woods, open grass areas, and eventually past houses and mobile homes.

“It’s not far up ahead, on the left,” said Henry.

“I do.”

“You do what?”

“Own land.”

Henry and his grandmother lived in a modest little house. A small porch on front centered on the door with one window on each side of it. In the drive an old Pontiac, the silver paint faded to a white on the trunk and top. Cody glanced around at the mobile home across the street with old cars and semi-trailers sitting behind it, the other houses that where similar in size, and a short distance down the road, a metal building with cars parked next to it. A dog was barking in the distance, otherwise it was quiet, and Cody climbed out after Henry to help him get his bike out.

“Thanks for dinner and the ride home,” said Henry as he set the bike on the ground.

“What about tomorrow? What time do you want to head up to Selma?”

“Do you want to beat the church crowd?”

“Yes. Why don’t I swing by around eleven.”

“Okay.”

Cody smiled, took a step back as Henry pushed the bike toward the house. “I’ll see you at eleven,” he repeated, then climbed back behind the wheel.

Cody woke early, fed the animals, checked the watering devices, then walked nervously through the gardens trying to expel the excess energy that was bottled up inside.

Back inside, he took a shower, laid out clothes, trying to decide how casual to keep his attire, deciding in the end on an older pair of jeans and a gray t-shirt. It would not be out of line with anything Henry would be wearing.

Despite driving the Jeep and having to drive slowly, he still arrived in front of Henry’s house fifteen minutes early. He sat in the drive debating on whether, or not to knock on the door now or wait a few minutes, when it swung open, and an older woman stepped out. He climbed down and met her at the bottom of the cinder block steps.

“You must me Cody.”

“Yes ma’am. You’re Henry’s grandmother.”

“I am but you can call me Mrs. Nolan.”

“Mrs. Nolan?”

“I’m Henry’s maternal grandmother, so he’s a Barnes and I’m a Nolan.”

“I see.”

“Henry says you’re a farmer down near Monroeville.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Henry will be out shortly. He’s just trying…” Mrs. Nolan fell silent, looked back toward the front door, then to Cody. “I have lived here all my life and maybe just a foolish old woman, but I know my grandson. He’s not like these other boys around here; never has been. Henry…he’s special and...” she moved to the edge of the porch, right in front of Cody, lowering her voice, “I know. I’ve known for a long time. I want him to find his way and I don’t want him to get hurt more than he already has been.”

“I understand.”

“Do you?”

“In my own way, yes.”

Mrs. Nolan stepped back and smiled, nodding her head. The front door swung open, and Henry came out, dressed in jeans and a white t-shirt, mirroring Cody’s attire. He hugged his grandmother, then stepped down to where Cody was waiting.

“I’m ready.”

“Well, let’s go.”

Cody eased along 41, heading back to Camden. Henry and he had enjoyed lunch at a small café in downtown, talking quietly about their lives and dreams for the future. Then they talked about mundane things, music, their old high schools, farming, Henry about books he read, getting Cody to promise to read one in particular. Lunch dragged out until they were the last in the café, then they had headed back.

Cody wanted to touch Henry. Just some simple connection he needed to make. He reached over and slipped his fingers through Henry’s, holding his hand.

“Is this, okay?”

Henry smiled, nodding his head.

Somewhere north of Camden, Cody wasn’t sure, Henry shifted in his seat and faced him.

“Can we go somewhere? Somewhere we can be alone?”

“Yeah, sure, but where? You could come with me back to-“

“Turn right just pass the curve.”

“Here? It’s just a fire lane?”

“I’ve ridden it on my bike and people cut through all the time.”

The dirt lane cut through freshly planted pine, then into woods, the line between the two straight as only man would do. They came to a place where Cody could see the fire lane forked, not once but twice up ahead.

“Take the first left.”

It was less traveled, the lane grown over with grass and weeds.

“Are you sure about this?”

“Yes; trust me.”

The lane cut through the woods, the tree canopy keeping them shaded from the hot afternoon sun. Then another area recently clear cut and replanted in pine. It was a small area, only a few acres, and the lane cut into another section of woods. After what seemed like a mile, the lane improved, became a two-track dirt lane, until finally coming out onto another road.

“This is 43. Turn right,” said Henry.

“How did you figure this out?”

“I’ve had a lot of time to kill so I rode my bike everywhere.”

Cody drove them north, passing small bodies of water, knowing they had to be close to the Alabama River. They passed a few houses and crossed over one body of water, when Henry pointed ahead.

“There is an old trail road on the left; take it.”

Cody followed the lane, bouncing through washed out sections until he could see the river through the trees.

“Wow, this is nice.”

Cody stopped, shutting off the engine.

“I found this place when I was fifteen and have been riding up here ever since,” Henry uttered as they sat watching the slow roiling waters of the river through the trees. “Come on, let’s get out.”

Henry led Cody down to the bank of the river. After a few minutes a fishing boat motored by, the two men waving as they passed. Then Henry took Cody by the hand and led him back toward the Jeep.

“Cody, do you really like me?” Henry asked as he backed up to the side of the Jeep, pulling Cody close.

“Yes.”

“Will you show me?”

Cody leaned to Henry, brought their lips together. Henry suddenly responded, kissed him back while holding tight to each bicep. Cody kissed the lips, then moved along the smooth jaw, down to the ear.

“You won’t stop me?”

“No,” Henry replied breathless.

Cody slipped his hands around Henry’s waist, held him tight as he pressed his body against him. Then he took the hem of the t-shirt and tugged upward. Henry raised his long arms, letting him get it off. He tossed it in the Jeep and leaned to the chest. A kiss, then another, moving from the sternum to the right nipple. He kissed the soft flesh, tongued it until the center hardened by his manipulation, then he lightly bit it.

Henry moaned and shivered against his lips.

Cody squatted before Henry, buried his face in the flat stomach, rubbed across the smooth skin, then he kissed along the waistband of the jeans while working the button free, then tugging down on the zipper. White boxers came into view, first the waist band, then the tented crotch. Cody mouthed it, ran his lips along the hardening cock within. Fingers dug into his shoulders as he made his way to the head and mouthed it, worked his tongue around the flared head, the held it in his suctioning mouth.

“Cody…don’t stop,” Henry uttered, while pushing his cock against the mouth pleasuring him.

Cody took the waistband of the jeans and boxers and tugged downward. Pale skin, pubic hair, then the base of the hardening cock. Cody mouthed it as he continued to tug down, slipping inch after inch into view, until it was free and angled out before him. He bowed to it, put his lips to the flared head, letting it slip between them. He pushed forward, taking inch after inch, then held it in the warmth of his mouth. The fingers dug into his shoulders again and he began to work his mouth along the shaft, then the head. He tongued it, ran lips along its length, until Henry was trying to fuck his mouth.

Cody worked his mouth on Henry while freeing his own cock. It took so little manipulation to get rock hard. Soon his hand stroked slickly along its curved length.

With arms around Henry’s legs, Cody stood, lifting him, putting him in the passenger seat. He continued to lift the legs, then dragged Henry to the seat’s edge on his back.

“I want you,” Cody uttered as he pushed his cock against him. Legs resting on his shoulders he held one thigh while raking his cock up and down Henry’s ass. “Do you want me?”

“Yes,” Henry exclaimed. “Do it…put it in me.”

Cody shuddered at the tightness squeezing the head of his cock. He pushed and tugged the head within the tightness until it loosened to his penetration, then he slowly sank into Henry’s hole.

Cody began to fuck, slowly at first, savoring the feel of every inch squeezing through the tightness. When fingers dug into his thighs, it pushed him to fuck faster, until softly smacking against Henry’s ass. He fucked until his own body ached for release.

“I’m going to cum,” Cody uttered as he shoved into Henry all the way and shuddered with release.

Cody gently pulled out of Henry, helped him to his feet and went to his knees before him. He sucked the drooling cock into his mouth. He let it slide over his tongue as he pushed forward until it nearly choked him, then he worked the head of it. Licking and sucking and working his lips around it until fingers dug into his shoulders. When Henry began to fuck, to drive the cock into his mouth with a steady rhythm, he held his head still and took every thrust.

Henry’s pace became erratic, at times rough, and Cody knew he was close. He pushed forward, feeling the flared head move over his tongue, then swell, flex, and choke him with cum. Wad after wad hit the back of his throat, and he struggled to swallow fast enough.

Afterward, they just sat in his Jeep watching the water move past them on its way to the Gulf. They couldn’t imagine how something so brown with mud would end up in the Gulf and not muddy up its turquoise waters.

Cody wasn’t sure who initiated it. One moment they’re talking quietly, then Henry is naked, every stitch of clothing tossed in the back of Jeep. Cody sits in the passenger seat, unencumbered by the steering wheel, but he is encumbered by his jeans and boxers around his ankles. But nothing could hobble him enough to prevent their sex. Henry in his lap, moving up and down on his cock as he strokes Henry’s cock, wanting him to cum when he does.

Henry moves at an agonizingly slow pace. Up, then down, ass sliding over Cody’s cock. Henry’s cock drags along stomach, leaving a slick trail. Cody rubs the flexing thighs, up the lean back, until he can cup the back of the neck. He pulls Henry down and kisses him. When they part, lips barely apart, he whispers, afraid to speak too loudly.

“Henry…make me cum.”

Henry moves with greater authority. Faster, working ass up and down. Cody grabs each thigh and holds on, feeling his growing arousal.

“Henry,” Cody utters, trying to push upward but unable.

Henry keeps up his pace. Up and down, not slowing.

“Come on Cody, do it…do it,” Henry utters.

Cody shudders and pumps upward. Then he comes. Henry rides his spurting cock, up and down, making him shudder with every ejaculation. Then cum ropes up his chest, smears over his stomach and he looks down to see Henry’s cock spurt again.

It was almost dark by the time Cody pulled into his drive. He eased along slowly with the sound of tires crunching over gravel. He felt content for the first time. Like life might work out the way he had long ago envisioned. It had seemed like something out of reach for so long, he had almost given up. But Henry gave him the possibility. There was a chance it wouldn’t work out between them, but the fact the opportunity existed was enough for now.

As he neared his home, he realized a car sat in front. The white rental Ryan had been in. He frowned, once again faced with Ryan wanting him to give up his life. He had come to understand Ryan after he had left. Always looking for something new and different, and only falling back to the familiar after a setback or some disappointment. There was a reason Ryan was back and he knew once the hurt of what happened had passed, Ryan would move on, head back to Dallas and pick up where he had left off, or maybe even pick up and move again. One day, he expected to hear Ryan was in California, or down in Mexico, or maybe living overseas somewhere.

He drove past his house and saw Ryan standing by the rental car. He drove down to the barn to park the Jeep without acknowledging him. He took his time, positioning the Jeep to one side out of the way, then strolling back toward his home where Ryan waited. He tried to think of ways of telling Ryan to let it go. To let him go and go back. But everything had been said before.

“Where have you been all day?” Ryan asked in a gruff tone. “I’ve been waiting since before lunch.”

The accusatory tone, the gruffness of it, Ryan trying to make him feel guilty for living his own life. It hit him wrong, made everything he planned to say escape his mind. He moved toward Ryan without increasing his pace until about ten feet away.

“Ryan, it is none of your business. Really, you being here is tiring. Just go back to Dallas.”

“But what about us?”

“There is no us. Jesus…Ryan, you moved on, and I’ve created a life for myself here, in this place. What is so hard to understand about that?”

“But you don’t have anyone here. You’re alone and if you would just…”

Ryan fell silent when he saw Cody smile, then look out over the gardens.

“You’ve met someone?” Ryan asked

“Go home. Go back to Dallas and find you someone who loves living in the city. Coming here trying to pick up where we left off…it’s too late for that and we both know it.”

He had leveled his tone, kept his voice even and low. But the seriousness was there, simmering beneath the surface. Ryan had to accept what he was saying and not try to argue with him.

Ryan started to say something, then he just nodded his head. After a long silence, Ryan got back into his car. Cody didn’t move as Ryan started it, backed up, and pulled away. Not until that white anonymous sedan was out of sight did it seem like he could breathe.

A Friday night and drizzling rain fell outside. Inside Cody’s house, among the chaos of renovation, the television was on, movie credits scrolling the screen. In the disarray that was the kitchen, dirty plates were stacked by the sink, and a small cake from the bakery of the grocery store sat uncut. On the sofa, two t-shirts were strewn over it, and socks and shoes sat under the coffee table. Down the short hall, a pair of jeans, another pair just inside the door to Cody’s bedroom. By the bed, boxers lay on the rug.

The bed squeaked and rocked, and the moans and utterances of Cody and Henry filled the air, for upon it, Cody moved over Henry. Naked, skin glistening with sweat, he undulated in that primitive way. Ass flexing with every push, hands raking over hot flesh, lips pressed together, then slid along smooth skin, kissing, and nipping at it with hunger and desire.

“Fuck,” Henry uttered.

Cody moved over him, pushed his hard cock into his depths and held tight to him. He had held the legs behind the knees with his initial penetration, then he had balled him up and pinned him to the mattress as he clung to him, tried to push into the center of his being. Then he had let the tall lean body stretch out beneath him. Hands moved over his body and legs rubbed along his own.

“I want you,” Cody utters breathlessly, as he pushes inward all the way.

Cody fucks Henry, slowly, aware of every touch, ever press against his own flesh. The heat of their bodies rubbing and moving against each other. Sweat trickled down his face, slicked his skin, and he saw it bead up on Henry’s forehead as if burning with a fever.

Cody pulled free, rolled to his back and without needing to ask, Henry moves over him. The long legs folded along side each thigh and the body undulating back and forth. He watched it, and felt it, how Henry rubbed over his cock. It made him clutch at the bed. It made him push upward increasing the feel of the contact.

“Fuck, Cody…I want you inside me,” Henry uttered.

Cody saw the body rise, felt fingers hold his cock, then he felt the pressing down on the head. Then felt it squeeze through the tightness as Henry slid his ass down on it.

He shuddered with the feel of his cock being enveloped by Henry, the tightness sliding down to the base of his cock, then held it in the soft heat of Henry’s hole.

Henry moved on his cock, up and down, faster and faster, until it was a desperate fuck. Leaking cock smacked his stomach as Henry slammed down on his cock. Over and over and over until the two of them were gasping for breath.

Henry leaned back, took his own cock in hand. Cody took Henry by the ankles and held tight as he watched. Henry stroking with a frenzied manic pace, his hand a blur. Henry moving his ass up and down with a ferociousness that was pulling him to the point of release. Cody began to buck upward, trying to push deeper. His whole body tensed, every muscle tight, then he shuddered and jerked with release. With every ejaculation, he shoved upward. Gasping for breath, he saw Henry’s own release, cock spurting thick ropes of cum. It rained down on Henry, across the face, the chest, then the stomach, finally just dribbling from the slit, slickening the hand still stroking it.

Finally spent, they fell still.

“Will you stay tonight?” Cody asked as he ran a finger along Henry’s side, over the hip, upward until he felt the ribs just beneath the skin.

“Grandmother is expecting me to come home.”

“Call her.”

“And tell her what? I’m sleeping with Cody tonight?”

“Yes. It’s not like she doesn’t know.”

“She knows what?”

“She knows her grandson, and she knows why he goes out with that dumb farm boy from Monroeville.”

Henry sits up looking down at Cody.

“You’re not serious.”

“She told me as much two weeks ago. When you were getting ready, and we were out front waiting…she told me.”

“Grandmother, hey, I’m still at-“

“Are you going to stay with him tonight?”

“No…not if you need me to come home.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I think I can turn in by myself.”

Henry held the phone to his ear, trying to work out what words to say.

“Grandmother, I think we should talk…when I get home.”

“Henry, I know, but…I think we should talk about it. Now get off this phone and go back to that boy.”

Before Henry could say anything else, the connection ended.

“What did she say?” Cody asked from the doorway to the hall, looking across the dark living room where Henry stood at the front windows.

“She said…not to keep you waiting.”

“Told you. Now come back to bed.”

Cody woke early, as he did most mornings. It was first light, soft and glowing around the white blinds, illuminating the room. He eased out of bed, careful not to wake Henry. He went to the bathroom, then to the kitchen where a pot of coffee waited. He poured a cup, the black liquid steaming hot, and cupped his hand around it, feeling its warmth. It was satisfying the way it warmed his hands, but not as satisfying as having Henry in his bed. He smiled at the thought of it.

He looked at his watch, knowing he should be able to get the animals squared away and be back before Henry woke. He could cook breakfast for them, or he could slip out of his clothes and back into the warm bed.

Coffee in hand, Cody eased out the back door, gently closing it. He turned to sit so he could put on his old boots and froze.

“Hey little brother.”

“Landon, what are you doing here?”

“Just come to check on you.”

Cody scoffed, louder than he meant to, then he sat on the wooden bench next to Landon. He slipped on the left boot, then the right. He sat back and picked up his coffee taking a sip as the two of them stared out across the gardens.

“You going to tell me about it?” asked Landon.

“About what?”

“About that Barnes boy piled up in your bed. About the fact you’ve been dating him for two weeks, or longer. I’m not sure exactly. But it comes down to whether, or not my little brother is going to tell me he’s gay and has what I think is his first serious relationship. That Ryan boy doesn’t count.”

“You knew?”

“Yeah, I knew, have since you and that Ryan boy got into that argument in the front yard after your graduation.”

“Wow, that long.”

“I knew you were just going through the motions for a long time, and I guess those weekends down in Mobile or New Orleans or wherever you got off to was a way to make it through the loneliness.”

“Yeah, well, it did get really lonely.”

“I should have approached you sooner, but Jason and Emily told me to let you come to me.”

“Jason and Emily know.”

“Relax; they’re good. Only thing is…on this I think they were wrong. We’re brothers and brothers are supposed to take care of each other. You should have been comfortable coming to me. We could have talked about it.”

“What would you know about someone’s who’s gay?”

“Not much…but that don’t mean nothing. I could still listen and support you.”

“Cody; are you on the porch?” called Henry from inside.

Landon looked over at Cody suppressing the desire to laugh.

“Yes” Cody replied, while staring down Landon. Then he nearly laughed. “You want to come in for some coffee, maybe breakfast, and meet Henry…officially?”

“I would like that very much.”