Trifecta: Easter, part two
Apr. 17th, 2014 07:47 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
frogs_of_warI was looking forward to the slow time of the year. I was going to wait several weeks before asking other departments for hours. Even just four days weeks would be terrific for a while (the short story I've been working on for five minutes here and there would be done by now if I'd just get a minute off).
But...
My floral manager (who was in the accident last summer which forced me to be acting manager for three months) is going in for surgery. She said in a perfect world, she'd wait until after Mother's Day and proms. But today she called in sick. She hurts to much to move. So I need to fit 16 hours of work into my eight hour shift. I hope she's better tomorrow. If I miss that day off, I'll work ten days straight.
Title: Trifecta
Chapter: Easter, part two
Status: WIP
Genre: Romance, Triple Slash, businessmen, jobs, friends, working
Length: 1.2k
Summary: Ty's arrival at his aunt's place with Kenneth and Damien doesn't go as expected
Masterlist
Ty opened the door without knocking. Why wasn’t Aunt Millie on the doorstep to welcome them with hugs and kisses? He set his bags by the couch, checked to make sure his men had followed him in, and went to find Aunt Millie. “We’re here.”
“Come in, come in.” Aunt Millie said from the dining room. She had the phone cord extended as far as it would go. She rolled her eyes and pointed at the phone. “Yes, of course. I know—No, that’s—All right, I can—No, I—”
This must be one of the ladies from church. They could always railroad Aunt Millie into anything by never letting her get a word in edgewise.
Ty leaned close to the phone. “Aunt Millie. We’re home and we’re starving.”
“Nancy, my nephew and his friends just arrived all the way from Oregon. Yes, I know—”
“Really, really hungry.” Ty took the phone from his aunt. “Mrs. Marsh, it’s nice to hear from you. I’ll see you Sunday. You’re still in your old pew? I’ll see you there.”
He hung up the phone before she could say anything else.
Aunt Millie sighed. “I wish you wouldn’t do that. I have to live with these people you know.”
“Only because you refuse to move to civilization.”
Aunt Millie grinned and slapped his arm. “My boy.” She took him in her arms and squeezed him tight. “I’ve missed you so.”
He hugged her back. He loved her and the house, but he could have stood to live without the neighbors, the church, and the rest of town. He hadn’t been able to really breathe until he moved away and now that he knew what a full breath felt like, every second in the town was stifling.
“Come meet my men. If you keep hiding in the kitchen, Damien will think you don’t like him.
“Of course I like him. He’s your friend.”
Aunt Millie used friend to mean everything from almost strangers to lovers. She pulled Kenneth into a hug. The phone rang. Aunt Millie sighed. “That never-ending noise.”
“I’ll get it.” Damien shot Ty a glance as he headed into the kitchen. Aunt Millie watched him go then turned and asked Kenneth about his work.
Ty followed Damien into the kitchen. Damien had the phone to his ear and he was answering in monosyllables using that slow, soft voice he used on stage. He covered the receiver. “I’ve got this.”
And then he grinned. Ty kissed his neck and left him to it. Damien hadn’t seemed as upset with Aunt Millie’s rudeness as Ty would have been. She should have let Ty introduce her to Damien before she greeted Kenneth.
Ty went back into the living room. Aunt Millie had some explaining to do.
“So please don’t ignore him.” Kenneth concluded.
Aunt Millie pressed her lips together. “I know I shouldn’t, but he looks so young…”
Ty wrapped his arms around her. “Is that any reason to not give him your best dose of Southern hospitality? Especially seeing he’s keeping you off the phone.”
Aunt Millie patted Ty’s arms. “Are you really hungry or were you giving me an excuse to get off the phone?”
“Both!”
Aunt Millie bustled into the kitchen. “I’ve made you fresh squeezed lemonade and warm biscuits. Help yourself while I get dinner on.”
Ty pour a glass for Kenneth and took another to Damien. Damien grinned and took a sip. “Sorry, I don’t know where that is. No, I don’t know a Amelia Edwards either. This is her phone? Then I must have the wrong number. Sorry.”
He hung up. “One. Two. Three.”
The phone rang again. Damien smiled like he’d been waiting all day for this call. “Hello.”
He covered the receiver. “Someone else.”
Then he sat on the stool and listened. Damien shouldn’t have to answer the phone. He should be the guest of honor. Aunt Millie should be doting on him like Damien deserved.
If Aunt Millie wasn’t going to do it, Ty would. He stepped up behind Damien. Damien flicked him a grin and lean against his chest. Ty rubbed Damien neck. More would have to wait until later.
Kenneth helped Aunt Millie remove a cast iron skillet from the overhead rack. “You are very popular today.”
Aunt Millie sighed. “The fundraiser minister, Joseph Knowles, you remember him, don’t you, Ty?”
She turned to Kenneth. “He was the youth minster when Ty was a boy. His wife died, if I recall, about five years ago. The senior ministers asked him to look for another wife and went so far as to invite him and a different woman his age to dinner once a week. After he declared he’d never marry again, they moved him from youth pastor to fundraiser because you don’t need a wife to raise money.”
She sighed. “Well, last night he handed in his resignation, which Pastor Featherstone refused to accept because they want to build onto the church this summer and the more money the nicer the addition. Pastor Knowles said he was leaving with or without Pastor Featherstone’s permission. And we found out this morning that he hadn’t left alone. He went with that nice Mr. Aims who doesn’t treat us ladies like our heads are filled with fluff when we complain that our cars sound funny. What am I going to do now if my car acts up? Edith was putting off having the rattle in her car looked at until after Easter, so she could afford that dress she just had to have. Now she’s going to have to take her car to that odious Mr. Rex.”
Aunt Millie shuddered. Mr. Rex wasn’t any worse than any other mechanic, but Mr. Aims didn’t smell like old gasoline when not at work, was friendly, and listen to women and small boys.
He’d fixed Ty’s bike once when the guy at the bike shop refused to look at it. Ty had paid him with Aunt Millie’s cookies.
“Everyone just has to talk about it. Thank you Damien for taking over the phone.”
Ty pointed at the skillet. “Thank him with real southern cooking. He’s never had homemade fried chicken before.”
“Then he’s never had fried chicken.” Aunt Millie carried a bowl of chicken parts to the counter. “We’ll have to fix that.”
The way to a man’s heart might be through his stomach, but the way to Aunt Millie’s was to eat her cooking. After the long flight and the anxiety, Damien would do her cooking justice.
Aunt Millie slapped a chicken leg into the flour with enough force to send a white puff into the air. “Speaking for fixing things, if we’d just been more welcoming to people like you, Mr. Aims wouldn’t have had to leave to be with Pastor Knowles.”
She sighed. Ty stepped away from Damien and kissed her cheek. Selfishness as a step towards tolerance? If Aunt Millie could convince her friends, then his weekends in town would be more pleasant.
But...
My floral manager (who was in the accident last summer which forced me to be acting manager for three months) is going in for surgery. She said in a perfect world, she'd wait until after Mother's Day and proms. But today she called in sick. She hurts to much to move. So I need to fit 16 hours of work into my eight hour shift. I hope she's better tomorrow. If I miss that day off, I'll work ten days straight.
Title: Trifecta
Chapter: Easter, part two
Status: WIP
Genre: Romance, Triple Slash, businessmen, jobs, friends, working
Length: 1.2k
Summary: Ty's arrival at his aunt's place with Kenneth and Damien doesn't go as expected
Masterlist
Ty opened the door without knocking. Why wasn’t Aunt Millie on the doorstep to welcome them with hugs and kisses? He set his bags by the couch, checked to make sure his men had followed him in, and went to find Aunt Millie. “We’re here.”
“Come in, come in.” Aunt Millie said from the dining room. She had the phone cord extended as far as it would go. She rolled her eyes and pointed at the phone. “Yes, of course. I know—No, that’s—All right, I can—No, I—”
This must be one of the ladies from church. They could always railroad Aunt Millie into anything by never letting her get a word in edgewise.
Ty leaned close to the phone. “Aunt Millie. We’re home and we’re starving.”
“Nancy, my nephew and his friends just arrived all the way from Oregon. Yes, I know—”
“Really, really hungry.” Ty took the phone from his aunt. “Mrs. Marsh, it’s nice to hear from you. I’ll see you Sunday. You’re still in your old pew? I’ll see you there.”
He hung up the phone before she could say anything else.
Aunt Millie sighed. “I wish you wouldn’t do that. I have to live with these people you know.”
“Only because you refuse to move to civilization.”
Aunt Millie grinned and slapped his arm. “My boy.” She took him in her arms and squeezed him tight. “I’ve missed you so.”
He hugged her back. He loved her and the house, but he could have stood to live without the neighbors, the church, and the rest of town. He hadn’t been able to really breathe until he moved away and now that he knew what a full breath felt like, every second in the town was stifling.
“Come meet my men. If you keep hiding in the kitchen, Damien will think you don’t like him.
“Of course I like him. He’s your friend.”
Aunt Millie used friend to mean everything from almost strangers to lovers. She pulled Kenneth into a hug. The phone rang. Aunt Millie sighed. “That never-ending noise.”
“I’ll get it.” Damien shot Ty a glance as he headed into the kitchen. Aunt Millie watched him go then turned and asked Kenneth about his work.
Ty followed Damien into the kitchen. Damien had the phone to his ear and he was answering in monosyllables using that slow, soft voice he used on stage. He covered the receiver. “I’ve got this.”
And then he grinned. Ty kissed his neck and left him to it. Damien hadn’t seemed as upset with Aunt Millie’s rudeness as Ty would have been. She should have let Ty introduce her to Damien before she greeted Kenneth.
Ty went back into the living room. Aunt Millie had some explaining to do.
“So please don’t ignore him.” Kenneth concluded.
Aunt Millie pressed her lips together. “I know I shouldn’t, but he looks so young…”
Ty wrapped his arms around her. “Is that any reason to not give him your best dose of Southern hospitality? Especially seeing he’s keeping you off the phone.”
Aunt Millie patted Ty’s arms. “Are you really hungry or were you giving me an excuse to get off the phone?”
“Both!”
Aunt Millie bustled into the kitchen. “I’ve made you fresh squeezed lemonade and warm biscuits. Help yourself while I get dinner on.”
Ty pour a glass for Kenneth and took another to Damien. Damien grinned and took a sip. “Sorry, I don’t know where that is. No, I don’t know a Amelia Edwards either. This is her phone? Then I must have the wrong number. Sorry.”
He hung up. “One. Two. Three.”
The phone rang again. Damien smiled like he’d been waiting all day for this call. “Hello.”
He covered the receiver. “Someone else.”
Then he sat on the stool and listened. Damien shouldn’t have to answer the phone. He should be the guest of honor. Aunt Millie should be doting on him like Damien deserved.
If Aunt Millie wasn’t going to do it, Ty would. He stepped up behind Damien. Damien flicked him a grin and lean against his chest. Ty rubbed Damien neck. More would have to wait until later.
Kenneth helped Aunt Millie remove a cast iron skillet from the overhead rack. “You are very popular today.”
Aunt Millie sighed. “The fundraiser minister, Joseph Knowles, you remember him, don’t you, Ty?”
She turned to Kenneth. “He was the youth minster when Ty was a boy. His wife died, if I recall, about five years ago. The senior ministers asked him to look for another wife and went so far as to invite him and a different woman his age to dinner once a week. After he declared he’d never marry again, they moved him from youth pastor to fundraiser because you don’t need a wife to raise money.”
She sighed. “Well, last night he handed in his resignation, which Pastor Featherstone refused to accept because they want to build onto the church this summer and the more money the nicer the addition. Pastor Knowles said he was leaving with or without Pastor Featherstone’s permission. And we found out this morning that he hadn’t left alone. He went with that nice Mr. Aims who doesn’t treat us ladies like our heads are filled with fluff when we complain that our cars sound funny. What am I going to do now if my car acts up? Edith was putting off having the rattle in her car looked at until after Easter, so she could afford that dress she just had to have. Now she’s going to have to take her car to that odious Mr. Rex.”
Aunt Millie shuddered. Mr. Rex wasn’t any worse than any other mechanic, but Mr. Aims didn’t smell like old gasoline when not at work, was friendly, and listen to women and small boys.
He’d fixed Ty’s bike once when the guy at the bike shop refused to look at it. Ty had paid him with Aunt Millie’s cookies.
“Everyone just has to talk about it. Thank you Damien for taking over the phone.”
Ty pointed at the skillet. “Thank him with real southern cooking. He’s never had homemade fried chicken before.”
“Then he’s never had fried chicken.” Aunt Millie carried a bowl of chicken parts to the counter. “We’ll have to fix that.”
The way to a man’s heart might be through his stomach, but the way to Aunt Millie’s was to eat her cooking. After the long flight and the anxiety, Damien would do her cooking justice.
Aunt Millie slapped a chicken leg into the flour with enough force to send a white puff into the air. “Speaking for fixing things, if we’d just been more welcoming to people like you, Mr. Aims wouldn’t have had to leave to be with Pastor Knowles.”
She sighed. Ty stepped away from Damien and kissed her cheek. Selfishness as a step towards tolerance? If Aunt Millie could convince her friends, then his weekends in town would be more pleasant.
