10. Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

Jon was sitting at the bar at Tobacco Company Restaurant waiting for his friends, Aaron and Rick. They were meeting for dinner for the first time since the wedding and honeymoon, and Jon was certain he was going to be lambasted with stories he'd find utterly boring. He'd humor them for a while and then, they'd all move on to regular topics, like business or baseball, both of which were topics upon which he could offer informed insights.

He ordered another vodka tonic as his phone chimed. If this is them canceling, I'm going to kill them, Jon thought.

They'd been trying to get together since Aaron and Rick had returned from St. Kitts in January after their Christmas Eve wedding, but Rick had been busy teaching and working on a new consulting job he'd taken with a business journal in Richmond. Aaron was a lawyer with a busy schedule, much like Jon, so even though they worked at the same firm, they were in different disciplines which didn't often cross paths.

Their three-on-three basketball league ended late last year, and the new season didn't start until the middle of summer, so the three of them had been very busy doing their own things. Jon was hoping to catch up with his friends and maybe get himself on solid ground again. He wanted to get back to the clubs Aaron and Rick loved to frequent and reignite his sex life.

He finally pulled out his phone to find it was a text from his mother, which surprised him. There was a video attached, but he looked at the message first, not really interested in another kitten/monkey YouTube clip.

Jonathon, come to the farm this weekend. This isn't a request. I can't believe you've been keeping this from me. Love you. Mom xoxo

Just as he was about to click on the attachment to figure out what the hell she was referencing, he felt an arm around his neck and a kiss on his cheek. He turned to see Rick's warm smile. "Hello, darling. How are you?" Rick sat down next to Jon on the stool and knocked on the bar.

"Where's Aaron? I walked by his office on my way out, but it was dark." Jon watched Rick pull out hand sanitizer from the pocket of his sport coat. He'd forgotten germs were one of Rick's peeves.

For some odd reason, watching Aaron reminded him of seeing Mickey during that visit to the Circle C when he worked with two newborn calves. It seemed they were twins, and their mother was a small cow who had struggled through the birth, as happened sometimes in nature.

Jon remembered standing at the corner of a tiled stall as he watched Mickey cleaning them up, his hands dirty from removing the remnants of the birthing process because the cow was too weak to do her job.

"While this ain't as bad as watchin' Matt castrate calves, I'm pretty sure this ain't exactly your cup of tea either, but if you could grab some towels from the cabinet for me, I'll get ‘em goin' so we can move ‘em to another stall. After Matt moves her, I'll clean this mess and then put ‘em back in here. Ryan'll love feedin' ‘em," Mickey told him as he rubbed the calves down with old towels while the cow breathed heavily.

"What about her?" Jon asked, knowing nothing about cattle. He moved to do as Mickey asked and again, stood back to stay out of the way.

Mickey looked at the cow as she lay resting on her side, barely breathing. "She'd a been fine with one of these little beauties, but two was too much. It happens, sometimes. Mother Nature gives more than some of us can handle. It was her first season, poor thing." Mickey picked up first one calf then the other, moving them to the other tiled stall where there was clean bedding.

Mickey sent Jon to the house for penicillin. When Jon couldn't find it in the kitchen fridge, he returned to the barn to find the stall empty. Mickey was on his hands and knees with a scrub brush and disinfectant, having removed the mats and dirty towels from the tiled floor to sanitize it. When the gunshot went off right outside the barn, both of them flinched. No more words were necessary.

Jon observed Mickey as he scrubbed, seeing he didn't seem to be bothered by the blood and god-knew-what-else was all over his clothes. He was more concerned about an animal that lost its life bringing its offspring into the world and it touched Jon deeply.

The snap of the cap on the antibacterial gel brought Jon out of the odd memory. "Aaron had a last-minute pre-trial conference at the opposing counsel's offices. He said we should have a drink or two, and he'll get here as quickly as possible. So, tell me what's new with you? Are you seeing anyone?" The two men settled in with their cocktails.

Rick's drink was something called a Pink Lady. Jon could only imagine what Mickey Warren would think of that. The cowboy was more of a beer drinker, and while Jon could tolerate beer on occasion, it wasn't his drink of choice. It was too pedestrian for him, really. Yes, you're a horrific snob, he reminded himself, not happy with the self-assessment at all.

"So, how was the honeymoon?" Jon bit the bullet because he didn't want to talk about himself. The turmoil in his gut at walking away from Mickey Warren had made him a surly bastard. The people at the office had started to steer clear of him and his shitty mood, and he couldn't blame them.

"I'll only bore you a little." Rick pulled out his cell and cued up what appeared to be eight hours' worth of pictures. Jon sat there, trapped, scrolling through pictures as he listened to the doggedly detailed explanation of every shot. He kept drinking and Rick kept droning on while they kept looking at the photos.

Finally, Jon hit a picture showing Aaron atop a large black horse, reminding Jon of Charlie, Matt's huge stud horse he'd enjoyed riding so much during his last trip to the ranch… Well, his only trip, because he'd ran out of there like a fucking fool, due to the feelings he was beginning to develop for Mickey Warren.

As he listened to Rick drone on, Jon realized what a huge mistake he'd made, but it was definitely too fucking late to go back and undo the damage he'd caused, or so he assumed. The young cowboy was so incredibly handsome and someone people would describe as salt of the earth, but Jon had slinked out on the man like a snake with the arrogant idea Mickey was too simple for him.

"Oh, that was the best day. We rode horses through the surf and had a candlelit picnic on the beach at sunset. I know you ride for real, but we were playing cowboys, and it was fun. This was the horse guide, Noah, who helped us. God, he was so hot! I teased Aaron that we should take him back to our room and take turns riding him!" Rick continued to flash pictures at Jon.

When Aaron finally arrived, there were cheek kisses among them. As Jon reflected on it, while the two of them discussed someone they knew and a very public argument between another couple regarding an overly flirtatious shop boy, Jon wondered when his life became full of superfluous cheek kissing and dinners full of gossip. Not one truly important conversation had taken place all evening. The discussion of a living room rug for their new home had taken up twenty-eight minutes—Jon had timed it.

It wasn't as if he didn't like Aaron and Rick. Jon had enjoyed most of the things the three did together prior to the wedding. They'd always found things to discuss, and Jon rarely remembered being bored while in their company. It seemed to him, however, since the two of them had tied the knot, they'd lost their individuality and had evolved into that monster referred to as a couple.

Aaron and Rick seemed to have pulled a bubble around themselves and no longer had big issues to discuss involving anything more than their shiny, happy life. They had merged into one personality, and it meant only one thing: the three of them had been reduced to a single gay man and a two-headed hydra with tunnel vision regarding anything outside their perfect life.

Finally, determining he was full-up on "coupledom," Jon made his escape. "This has been great, guys, but I need to get home. I've got a deposition tomorrow morning." He hated to lie to his friends, but he was so fucking bored he wanted to gut himself with a butter knife, and he was so distracted with forbidden thoughts, he needed time to clear his head.

"Oh, I forget that you family court-types have to deal with the down and dirty of the great unwashed. Good luck, my friend." Aaron and Rick once again gave Jon air kisses and hugs, opting to sit at the bar to have a nightcap.

The night air was pleasant, and the sky was full of stars when Jon walked out of the restaurant, so instead of going home, he decided to walk from East Carey to East Main and stop in a few bars he'd frequented in the past to do a little people watching.

He ordered a hard cider in Rosie Connelly's and listened to the music as he eyed the people, not seeing anyone of interest until a guy sat next to him. "I'll have what he's having and give him another on my tab," the guy stated as Jon turned to take him in.

He was handsome and polished. He was about fifty-five, and he'd had work done. It wasn't drastic, but the man looked a bit waxen, a sure sign of Botox. He had hair plugs at some point because the rows of hair were too uniform, which wasn't exactly a turn on, but the man had warm eyes. They were shamrock green, just like Michael Warren's lovely eyes. The man's hair was a flat brown, unlike Michael's red-burnished, brunet. The eyes, though, were nearly spot on.

"I'm Jon."

"Collin Murphy. It's nice to meet you, Jon. Are you a local or in town for business?"

"Meetings. I'm from… Well, that doesn't matter, now does it?"

The eyes were enough to seal the deal. If Jon looked into them, he could almost pretend the man was an older version of Mickey Warren.

Collin chuckled. "Yes, I suppose there's no use for pretense. I'm just down the street at The Berkeley. I'll leave a key for you at the front desk. We can have a nightcap." The man tossed a fifty on the bar and stood, smiling at Jon.

It was then he noticed a wedding ring on the man's finger. "Oh, and what would your better half think of you propositioning strange men in bars?" he asked, hoping it was flirty. He wasn't trying to be judgmental, but really?

"As I always say, what she doesn't know, doesn't hurt her," Collin told him as he winked and walked out of the bar.

Jon waited until he was sure the man was gone before he went out and hailed a cab. His car was parked in the garage under the firm, so he could take a cab to work the next morning. He had a lot of things to consider because there was a nagging in his gut he didn't like.

It was too late in the evening to rehash it in his foggy mind, but he'd think about it over the weekend. Yes, when he was in Dillwyn. That would be the perfect time to think things through.

Driving up the long, paved driveway of his parents' farm brought memories—pleasant memories. Jon had loved being in the country when he was younger, and he really wondered when he'd stopped enjoying it. Was it during high school when he was just discovering his sexuality and knew there was nobody in Dillwyn who would be his type?

Attending private school with Audrey Langley was on his mind. They'd determined early in their teens that the nice, simple people in Dillwyn were beneath them, as they'd continued to remind each other on random weekends when they'd been at the farm during their youth. They'd both become elitist, and it was sad.

Jon hated thinking how much he'd changed over the years, but things got worse in college, and then even worse when he started practicing law. His family name meant something in Richmond because his parents were wealthy and well-respected. As he thought about it, he had ridden on their coattails. Instead of earning the respect his father had from people in the community, it was conveyed to Jon secondhand. The realization of the truth in that piece of information didn't set well in his gut.

Jon parked his Mercedes under the carport behind the large manor and grabbed his overnight bag. He went in through the backdoor, seeing Ursula, the housekeeper and cook, at the stove, stirring.

"Hello, my darling." Jon hugged her and kissed her cheek. She'd come with the house when his parents purchased it, and she'd been good to him as a kid growing up. He loved her like a grandmother.

"Hello, you rascal. It's been too long since you've been here. How about a cup of coffee and we catch up while my stock simmers?" she offered with a bright smile.

Ursula Pendergrass was in her mid-sixties, but she loved her job with his family. She only worked on the weekends when they were in Dillwyn, and if it was a huge party, his mother hired additional help and had Ursula supervise. He was thrilled to see her again.

"That sounds lovely, but why don't you take a seat and allow me to fetch the coffee. How are the boys?" She had sons older than him but not by much if he remembered correctly.

Ursula was proud of them, and when he was younger, she'd have them come around and tend the lawn and the flower beds where Allison loved to tinker. He remembered they didn't like the work much, but they would tolerate Jon hanging around, and he thought they were cool. They cussed and smoked, and they talked about sex, with girls, and they didn't not talk about it because he was there. It was likely the best sex education he ever received.

"Well, Frank was promoted to senior account manager at the bank, and he and Brandy just enrolled Frankie in a prep school. His grades are very good, and he plays lacrosse, so they think he has the potential for a scholarship. They're supposed to come down over the summer for a visit. They live in Boston if you recall.

"Now, Vance is still working on his doctoral degree in archaeology. He's actually on a dig at a ruins' site in—well, I can't exactly remember the place, but it's in South America. Something about an ancient burial ground of some tribe or something. I only understand about half of what he writes in his email letters, mind you, but it's nice to hear from him. How about you, dear? Anything new going on in your life?" Ursula sipped her coffee.

Jon was stunned to realize he knew very little about the woman's family, and she knew everything about his. He vaguely remembered Frank was in finance, and he damn well didn't recall Vance was still getting his PhD. Hell, he'd been at it for almost ten years if memory served. Jon felt ashamed of himself because he was becoming… or he'd become… a very self-centered person.

"Ursula, that's great. Now, how about you and Roy? You're both well?" he asked.

The look on her face made his stomach sink. "Oh, I suppose your mother or father didn't relay the fact I lost Roy a year ago. He had a stroke, and I had to put him in a home. He hated it so much, but his mind was so damaged, he didn't recognize anyone in the family when we went to visit. He caught pneumonia and passed away a year ago in February. I still miss him every day. He was my great love." She reached up to dry a tear. He couldn't have felt worse if he'd kicked a newborn puppy.

"I'm sure Mom or Pop told me, but I just forgot, Ursula. I'm so sorry. I wish… Well, I hate it for you. How's your health, dear?" he asked.

She smiled at him and finished drying her eyes. "I'm healthy as a horse. It'll be a while before I get to see Roy again, but he's looking out for me and the boys, I know. How about you, Jon? Anyone special?" she asked him.

I wish, Jon thought. "Not really. I just can't seem to find the right person, I guess. I've done a lot of looking, trust me, but I think I'm just set in my ways," he explained as he sipped his coffee. He didn't know for sure, because Ursula was kind to ever ask outright, but he was pretty sure she knew he was gay. As he thought about it, he wondered how his parents couldn't know.

Ursula laughed quietly and slapped the top of his hand resting on the kitchen table. "Now, you're not opening your heart to possibilities. If you recall, Frank and Vance aren't my biological children. Roy's first wife passed when they were very young, and I worked for Roy as a cook and babysitter. I fell in love with Roy, even though in the beginning, I believed he wasn't the right type of man for me. Of course, in the end I never regretted it for a minute.

"I'd just graduated culinary school in New York and was on my way to Miami to try out for job when I got mugged in the Richmond bus station. Stole everything I had, they did. I lived in a rundown motel for a week until I answered an ad for an after-school babysitter. I needed money and Roy needed someone to cook and watch the boys for him. He was the prosecutor back then, and he was desperate for help.

"I figured if I worked for him for six months, I'd have enough money to get to Miami. I never left Richmond until Roy decided to quit working for the district attorney and we moved here for him to open a small, private practice. That's how we met your family and how I came to work here."

Of course, it was like new information for Jon, and it reminded him what a selfish bastard he'd been his whole life, not just recently. As he thought about it, he realized he'd never really listened to people's stories. He was so fucking caught up in his own shit, he'd stopped engaging, down to the tricks he'd dragged home. There was never any emotion aside from the physiological need to achieve sexual gratification, but after he came, he forgot everything—including their names.

"Can I ask you something? How hard was it for you and Roy to carve out a romantic relationship? I mean you were an aspiring chef, and he was a lawyer. Did you have anything in common?" he asked.

Ursula smiled and toyed with the bone china cup in front of her for a minute before she spoke. There was a wisdom in her eyes that Jon wished he had. "At first glance, I suppose most people would have said Roy and I had nothing in common. He was fifteen years older than me and in a profession that I didn't understand in the least, but if one listens to the things people say… and I mean really listens… there's always common ground.

"We're all on the earth together in a certain space and time, and there are events that shape us all. ‘Where were you when the Twin Towers fell?' will be the conversation you'll have many times in your life, I suspect. Mine is 'Do you remember when JFK was shot?' Your parents might be 'Do you remember the first Iraq war? Do you think we left too soon?'

"After those generation-defining questions are answered, we all find we have things in common. I think you're struggling with believing you have nothing to talk about with someone specific, and let me tell you, Jonathon, if you ask enough questions, and you listen to the answers they give you? You'll find your sought-after shared interests," she offered as the screen door slammed.

Jon heard familiar voices laughing on the back porch, and when it was quiet, he looked at Ursula, seeing a smile. "There are many ways to find something in common if you look hard enough, Jon. Always remember that." The woman then went back to her stockpot.

After listening for a moment to his parents talking, Jon left the kitchen and walked onto the porch, happy to see them both smiling.

"Well, Miss Allison, I'm here as ordered." His mother was pulling the muck boots from his father's feet. His dad, always the pussy hound, was busy staring at her ass, and Jon couldn't hold the laugh.

"Pop, you keep studying it, and you'll explode."

His father's head snapped up and a slow smile appeared. "Hey, if you find one like that, you'll never take your eyes off it until the day you die. Glad you came. Your mother had me in the barn hammering shit. I barely knew how to put together that IKEA crap you bought when you went to college. She's under the illusion I've developed skills that are helpful on a farm, when we all know I haven't." Ham's smirk made Jon laugh. He did love his parents.

"Oh, Ham, it's just so I can imagine you as a construction worker with the hammer in hand and a sexy leather belt around your waist, darling. It's very attractive seeing you nailing things at the barn." Allison tickled Jon's father's stomach, making him flinch.

Jon laughed at their playfulness after so many years of marriage. "Well, apparently you were good at nailing something," he joked as he swept his mother into his arms. Allison Granger Wells was a stunning woman, and she'd be the only woman Jon ever loved unconditionally. He loved Audrey Langley like a sister, but the love he held for his mother was unquantifiable.

Ham Wells had an immense laugh, and it was always contagious. Jon and Allison laughed hard as they watched Ham trying to toe-off the other boot. Finally, Jon extracted himself from his mother's embrace and walked over to his father. "Tell me your feet aren't still growing. You wear a thirteen or some shit, right?" Jon pulled on the dirty boot, finally freeing it from his father's foot.

"No, my feet aren't still growing, thankfully. Oh, I got hair comin' out of places I never imagined, but that's another story. I accidentally pulled on Clyde's boots.

"He was up here at the house after he cleaned out the barn for our new guest, and I suspect he took my clean boots and left these shitty ones for me. Anyway, thank you," his father responded as he stood from his seat and tossed the dirty boots onto the back patio.

"I'll clean 'em up later, and I'm gonna kick Clyde's ass when he comes back from town. What time are they supposed to be here?" Ham asked Allison as he kissed her temple.

"Three o'clock. You sure that stall is sound enough to keep him in?" Allison asked as the three of them turned to walk inside the house. Jon wasn't sure what they were discussing, but he was glad to be around the two of them again. They reminded him there was happiness in the world, after all.