When we Cum Face to Face

I mean this-was-so-fuckin-cool. Me, at almost fifteen guiding this big bird over the pavement. “Should I call your Dad? We could stop in Pasco? Your brother might want to see him?” He asked me at seventy-eight in the fast lane going uphill passing cars.

This bus has a big engine, well it must I guess, and there was peddle to spare; could have passed someone at ninety.

“Grampy, I can’t make it all the way home.” I was being honest. As comfortable as it is, as comfortable as I was behind the wheel, the bus is like riding a dragon and I’d been riding it for five hours.

“Pull over where ever you want, slick. I never expected you to make it all the way home. It’s not like this isn’t a house.” And I did.

From Me:

We need to back up a month or so. I walked the deck around to Robby’s room and saw him. He was dancing and singing with his earbuds in. I opened the slider and he didn’t hear. I am so… fuckin lucky.

‘Grampy, you cover me in sunshine. You shower us in good times. His eyes were closed. I thought of the master plan. After all these years; could this be it? Was he it?

“You shower me in sunshine, Grampy. You showered us with good times.” He was dancing doing half cartwheels around the room.

“I’ve been dreaming, friendly faces, just imagine us laughing.” That kid has a fuckin slap cuming. He turned with eyes closed and tears.

OK. We all know. When you think you can’t imagine loving more, it happens. I love him so…much. He saw me covering him in sunshine, showering them in rainbows and good times. Took me like five hours recovering from that shit.

‘Robby’. He feels more. I can’t even imagine his hurt.

Think about all my shit. ‘Robby and Ryan’.

My Grandson read my life. He read all of ‘Robby and Ryan.’ Twice. He knew my life from sixteen, understood the love and pain I endured.

My Grandson. “Don’t start with that shit, Grampy” I looked over at him.

“Oh. Now you decide to chime in.”

“I don’t see you as everything; I know that’s what you’re thinking. I don’t but, I see so much more. You do cover me in sunshine with your eyes and smiles; shower us in rainbows and happy things with the way you treat us.”

“You stop all that sappy shit right now,” I told him sitting across from me.

“Really, Gampy? Sappy shit? And don’t even rock your head at me. It doesn’t work for you.” It was funny and he needed to know.

“I watched that Pink video with her daughter, for hours. What am I gonna do with you, Slick?” He asked.

“The question is; What am I gonna do with you, Gampy.”

“Are you really gonna go there? Always trust, Parker.”

I did what needed to be done, the jacks, slide outs, and I even hooked up the other stuff. I knew the tanks needed to be emptied, dirty water and shit then I put the green fake grass under the awning with chairs. My brother had turned back into his pissy self again.

He didn’t even know I was the one driving. “If you want, you can call, Dad.” I felt sorry for him and extended an olive branch to my younger sibling.

“We are only like twenty miles away,” I told him.

Dad didn’t answer after like five calls. I could tell my little brother was hurt, he called our Dad all the time. I have no idea how many times, Dad answered.

In the morning, Grampy asked again, “Wanna drive?” And I nodded just wanting to get home to what he had given me.

We were ready to leave and I walked out giving him the head nod and a half shot of his favorite. “Spill, Grampy,” I demanded.

“What?” He asked with a tilted head and smile.

“REALLY? Sweet sixteen? You basically outed yourself, why’d you do that?” His head was still tilted but the smile was gone.

“Robby, I’ve held it inside, the truth, for so many years. I lived with a boy and a man as my husband, married a woman, and fathered two boys, but I have mourned his loss for over twenty-five years now.” And he took a breath.

“Now granted, if I’d never fathered your dad and uncle, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” And I had never thought about that.

“I don’t understand, Grampy?”

“There is a design, slick. We’ll call it, The Master Plan. We don’t know what it is but I have questioned it many times.” And he started walking.

“What do you mean?” I wanted to know.

“I grieved hard and missed most of the time during their teenage years. I built six more houses with a different façades, the inside was always the same. I still did what I did at the Lake House.” And he put his arm over my shoulder.

“I didn’t completely check out. I did go home most nights because I’d stopped drinking and could drive without worry. I’d make them breakfast like I do you and your brother, I’d play and sing for them on nights I wasn’t at the Club.” And he took a deep breath.

“I don’t think they hold it against you; I know Uncle doesn’t and Dad won’t share.” I was trying to get through to him.

“You read it all. I would get caught up in what I was playing, the words, how my hands caressed the ivory or strings remembering him. And I’d just start to cry. They would leave and tell her; I never knew what she told them.” And he shook his head.

We stopped with his arm still over my shoulder as he looked around. “I have so… many regrets, Slick. I wish my boys could’ve felt like you do. I was emotionally unavailable to them; sounds harsh. But I am all in with you and your brother. Maybe I can make up for lost time.” And he turned us walking back to the bus.

Cuming down the west side of, I 90, is a nice sight. “Don’t freak out; so, you and Rory?” He asked. I was not expecting that as I guided the bus closer to the setting sun with my foot on the break.

“Whatever he told you, Grampy was a lie.” And I maneuvered around traffic.

“I saw, slick. He didn’t tell me a thing. You should get off at the next exit; we’re gonna hit traffic.” And I did.

I wondered watching him maneuver around cars with a heavy foot; is this what I look like? But just a kid to those on the left who can see me. He merged onto the 405 like it was nothing on a Friday; I was glad I wasn’t driving.

It became slow and go, Grampy still talking to me like we were in the Lincoln; “It was funny her calling you Gampy, Slick.” And he couldn’t stop laughing.

He moved with such grace between and around traffic; I don’t know where he got that air horn but it works.

“Are we home yet???” Have I said, I hate my, fuckin brother?

“Soon,” He told him as I stood up.

“You are such a dick,” I announced with a slap to the back of his head.

“That fuckin hurt, you bitch. Grampy? He hit me!”

“Robby, give brother your chair and stop being a fuckin baby.” And I did.

“Break lights, Grampy.”

That was the first thing he said. “I see them. You think this is my first rodeo???” I answered back, and, asked.

“Why, you being, such a dickhead?” I questioned. I never talked to them like this, but he’d really been a little dick.

“Dad never called me back; I would’ve liked seeing him. It’s been a long time.” That was all I needed to hear. My son wasn’t taking calls from my/his boys, and the next time I see him; he has a fuckin double-tap cuming. Maybe from my 9.

“You and me, both.”

“Brake lights, Grampy.”

“I see them. I mean, Really? Is it like I’m driving by brail; just bouncing off cars on both sides. You need to cut me a little slack.”

I thought about what he said. “Your Mom and Dad; thought I raised him better than that. You know they’re not together anymore?” He looked at me.

He was a younger version of his brother, with dimples, bright teeth, but without what, his brother had. “How long, Gampy?” He asked.

“Don’t start,” And he smiled because I knew he was gonna say ‘break lights.’

“It’s been a while. Why; Are you being such a dick? This was supposed to be a fun getaway.” I asked.

“Why are you being mean to me.”

“You got one cuming. I will smack you upside the head someday: remember this today. Have you ever known me to be mean??? I am not being mean. Has your brother ever shown you?” We had never gone here before.

“Showed me what?” I needed nothing else.

“He shaves his junk.” And I started to laugh because it was the first thing that came to mind.

“Grampy!” Came from behind me. “Grampy does it too.” He told his brother in defense; I was doing seventy in a sixty.

“Break lights.” They both said.

“I have eyes,” I told them.

“How long, Gampy?” He asked with a yawn.

“How long have I been shaving??? Or your brother? Give brother back his chair: we’ll be home when you wake up.” And Robby took the co-piolet seat as his brother smacked the back of his head.

Rubbing over his scalp he said, “Just so you know, we’ve only peed in front of each other.” I told him.

“I saw, Robby. Does he shave?” He asked me.

“He does now; brake lights.”

“I have fucking eyes. What is it with you and your brother, all this backseat driving and shit? I never said one thing to you driving at ten over going up the pass.”

“Grampy??? Are you ok?” I needed to know.

“You stop that, right now. I’m fine. Those puppy-dog eyes don’t work on me anymore.” And I said break lights again knowing my eyes still worked on him.

“You know? Your Grammy thought I couldn’t see and said that all the time with her hand on the dash. I wish she could have known you; read what you did. I wish she could have.” And he turned away wiping his eyes.

“I know one thing; she would have felt sorry for me. Torn between my loves.” And he took the ramp for I 5.

“You built a house for you guys? Rob wouldn’t move?” I asked. It caught him off guard.

“I built a house for our rocking chairs. He flat-out refused. God, he pissed me off sometimes. Him? Even knowing my plans to move for eighteen months. I spent so much time designing it. The time I put into it. Ours; was his home and I sold the other furnished, weeks later.

What I wrote was true, she did understand, I think? Rob and her got along, mostly for my sake, but I think more time was robbed from her than our boys.”

“I saw Grampy. Brake lights.” And he shook his head at me.

“You need to be careful with, Rory. I understand your pool of, whatever, is small, but that is where we live. One wrong move could create a shit-storm. Are you hearing me?” He asked. I nodded and it was quiet.

From your Author’s.

This series has not been well received, with less than two hundred readers per chapter, only one comment from, Geoff. We have no idea why?

During our absents I added to, ‘No Regrets’ as a distraction. Robby and I have over ten-thousands words done. I have read many thousands of words, substance, only to get to the actual reason we read. We both hope you enjoy this and Grampy will post a new chapter of ‘No Regrets’ soon. RJC’s.