Chapter 3
966 Words
Chapter 3
Jacksonville, FL
A COUPLE OF DAYS later, the builder arranged to stop by to show Chris his proposals. The appointment was for five thirty, and Mickey had come home from work half an hour early in order to hear what the man had to say. Chris asked Mr. Hansen to lay his sketches out on the dining room table so they could study them side by side. He and Mickey looked at each sketch carefully.
Finally Chris said, “Well?”
“Well what?” Mickey said.
“Don’t be disingenuous, Mick. What do you think?”
“I like both of them. Which one do you like?”
“I like the one with the deck and the oversize windows.”
“Yeah, being able to open the porch to the breeze by opening only three large windows is appealing, isn’t it? On the other hand, it’s a bit more expensive.”
“Mickey, have you looked at our rental account lately?”
“I’ve never looked at it—at least, not after the first week. That’s pretty much your baby… after all, all of those properties were purchased with your settlement money.”
“Excuse us for a minute, Mr. Jensen,” Chris said. Then he grabbed Mickey’s hand, led him into the library, and closed the door.
Mickey stood in the middle of the library looking at Chris. “What?”
“What, indeed. How many rental properties do we own, Mickey?”
“Several. We bought a couple of properties in Asheville, and we’ve picked up several of my bank’s repos, along with some other property. But it was all done with your money.”
“Shame on you, Michael O’Donovan! It’s our money, and those are our properties.”
“Yeah, I suppose.”
“Suppose, my ass. What’s mine is yours and vice versa.”
“Okay, okay, you’ve made your point… haven’t you?”
“Actually, we’ve gotten off the point,” Chris said. “The point is that we have a ton of money set aside in the rental account for repairs and emergencies, and there’s absolutely no reason why we shouldn’t use some of it to make our home more enjoyable—agreed?”
“Okay, I agree.”
“Then let’s go back to the dining room and sign a contract.”
“I’m right behind you, babe.”
They returned to the dining room, where Chris said, “Okay, Mr. Jensen, we’ll go with the deck proposal.”
“Good choice,” Jensen said. “All I need is a signature and a deposit.”
Chris and Mickey signed the contract, Chris wrote a check, and Mr. Jensen left.
“What’s for dinner?” Mickey said. “And for that matter, where’s Ted?”
“Ted’s upstairs doing his homework, and we’re going out for dinner.”
“Okay, but why? I mean, what’s the occasion?” Mickey said.
“No occasion, other than the fact that I’ve been stuck in this house for a few days, and I was stuck in the hospital for several days before that. I just felt a need to get out for a bit.”
“Works for me. Let’s go.”
“Don’t forget Ted.”
“I’ll run upstairs and get him.”
“I’ll be waiting in the car.”
When they were finally in Mickey’s car and headed out of their driveway, Mickey said, “Where to?”
“Let’s try someplace different,” Chris said.
“Okay. What did you have in mind?”
“How about European Street?”
“You mean that place on Park Street, near King Street?”
“Yeah, that’s the place.”
“Okay, I’m game—”
“I sense hesitation,” Chris said.
“I was thinking about Ted. You do realize that some of our friends have described the atmosphere there as being a little ‘too gay’ at times.”
“True, but I want to see for myself. Okay?”
“Your wish, my command.”
LATER, AS THEY headed home, Chris said, “That was interesting.”
“Yeah, sort of. It certainly wasn’t as wild as others have said.”
“Maybe that’s only on the weekends, but I think I’ll stick with our usual haunts from now on.”
The minute they were home, Ted said, “I’m going to the library, okay?”
“Homework done?” Chris said.
“Yes, Sir.”
“What are you reading now?”
“I’ve just started the Warriors series.”
“That’s the one about cats in the wild, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Enjoy your book.” Chris extended a hand to Mickey and said, “Coming?”
“Silly question.”
Later, when they were snuggling, Mickey said, “How much pain are you in, Chris?”
“Not much.”
“That was too glib and a bit too quick. I was watching your face carefully while my legs were in the air just now, and I saw you wince a couple of times.”
“Okay, I’m hurting a bit, if you must know.”
“Then don’t get so active next time and let me do all of the work.”
“I’m no longer a compulsive bottom, Mick, and these days I don’t like being that passive.”
“True enough, but at the moment, circumstances dictate otherwise. Promise me you’ll be less active for a while—at least until you’re feeling better.”
“Okay, I promise.”
“By the way, how’s the book coming?”
“Mostly by hand.”
“As Daffy Duck once said, ‘Ha. Ha. It is to laugh’. Seriously, how goes it?”
“I’ll be ready to send the first five chapters to George’s friend in Atlanta by the end of the week.”
“Way to go, Chris.”
“Yeah. Tell that to the butterflies in my stomach. I’m nervous about showing my work to someone else, especially to a guy who George says is a best-selling author.”
“Chris! That isn’t like you. Not like you at all. Where’s your usual self-confidence?”
“My self-confidence, as you put it, only extends to those things at which I’m good, i.e., my job, cooking, f*****g, etcetera. I’m in uncharted territory with this whole writing thing.”
“Get over it, babe. I’ve read some of what you’ve written, and it’s damn good. By the way, why haven’t you shown me the rest of it?”
“I will—when it’s ready. Meanwhile, how about a nightcap?”
“The wine cooler in the den is empty at the moment,” Mickey said.
“So?”
“So, we’ll have to go downstairs to the library.”
“Again, so?” Chris said.
“Are you up to it?”
“Sure.”
Chris extricated himself from Mickey’s arms, stood, and headed for the door.
“Aren’t you going to get dressed?”
“Ted was in bed asleep two hours ago.”
“What if he wakes up?”
“So what if he does? This is an all male household, and we haven’t got anything he hasn’t seen.”
“Okay,” Mickey said, and followed Chris downstairs.
- Writer
