Drew_Hunt_ _Calvin's

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Oh, yes. That s never been a problem. But I guess I ve never introduced her to anyone, much less someone she already knew. Silently
Calvin added, someone she thought was straight.
What did she say?
Calvin swallowed and related the conversation as best he could recall. He had no difficulty at all in remembering her final words. So I
pretended I had another call and hung up.
Oh.
Brock, What we have it is just the same. At least for me it is. Calvin knew that was a loaded statement, but he just had to know.
Brock straddled the tree trunk to face Calvin fully. Calvin followed suit.
Brock leaned in and gave Calvin a gentle kiss on the lips. Darlin , you ve turned my life upside down, inside out and back to front this past
week.
Was this a good or a bad thing? Calvin wondered.
For what it s worth, which might not be a whole lot, an I don t want to disrespect your mamma or anything, but she s wrong. Brock slapped
at his arm; evidently the anti-bug lotion wasn t doing its thing. What you an me have is real special.
It wasn t the declaration Calvin would have hoped for, but it would do.
Reaching out, Calvin gently touched Brock s cheek near his black eye. The flesh was black and purple. Does it still hurt?
Not really, Brock whispered, leaning forward and kissing Calvin, who kissed Brock back.
They sat and exchanged kisses until Brock started to fidget.
What? Calvin said, leaning back.
Fuckin bugs.
Calvin stood and offered a hand to his cowboy. Come on, beautiful, let s get back. Junior will be wondering where we ve gone.
Beginning to realize how smart that kid was, Calvin bet the boy had a fair idea what he and Brock were up to.
Calvin s assumption was proved correct. Arriving back at Brock s house they found Junior on the sofa, flipping TV channels.
Glancing over at them, Junior said, I put that half-bag of charcoal next to the grill.
Brock nodded. Thanks, son.
Junior then looked over at Calvin and gave him a wink.
* * * *
Stretched out in a lawn chair in the shade of a live oak, Calvin didn t think he d need to eat again for at least three days. Brock had piled
Calvin s plate with everything anyone could have expected at a good ole Texas Fourth of July cookout. Burgers, hotdogs, potato salad, corn on the
cob, baked beans and watermelon.
Calvin let out a loud belch. Sorry.
Junior snickered.
Knew I shouldn t have had beans, Calvin admitted.
His peach cobbler had been a real hit. Both Junior and Brock had had two helpings. Calvin thought it might have needed a bit more sugar,
but both Brockwells pronounced it perfect, the best cobbler they d ever tasted. Calvin had accepted their compliments, not allowing himself to
believe they might just have been saying it out of politeness. It was too perfect a day, and too fucking hot to think about anything complicated.
Another beer, Mr. Hamilton?
It s Calvin. Calvin opened his eyes to look up at Junior. And thank you, I think I will.
Dad?
Thanks, son.
Calvin remembered Brock saying the only big thing he and Junior disagreed on was Brock s drinking. Evidently they must have come to
some compromise for the holiday.
Dad?
Yeah?
Can I have some beer?
Calvin opened his eyes; he wanted to see how this would play out.
You re a bit young.
Kyle s daddy lets him have beer.
Calvin noted Junior was going for the my friend s parents are cool enough to let their kid drink angle.
I still think you re a bit too young. Maybe next year.
And Kyle s mom works for the police department.
As a dispatcher, Brock parried.
Junior continued to state his case. Calvin had to admire the boy s persistence. He didn t whine or complain, just calmly advanced his
arguments.
Okay, bring out a small glass. Brock eventually said.
Yes! Junior raced into the house.
He ll probably hate the taste of it, Brock said. I know I did when I first sneaked cans from under my daddy s nose.
Calvin laughed.
Junior was back in a matter of moments, two bottles and a glass in hand.
Brock poured an inch of beer into the glass Junior held. Calvin expected the boy to complain about the amount, but he didn t. Brock stayed
the boy s hand before he could bring it up to his lips.
Let me tell you a story.
Junior rolled his eyes.
It ll only take a minute. I used to sneak beer from your granddaddy. It didn t take him long to cotton that the cans in the fridge were
disappearing faster than he was drinking them. Now I thought I was bein smart by crushin the cans and buryin em deep in the trash. But I got
caught. I thought I was in for a whippin for sure.
Junior giggled, and then grew serious. What happened?
Brock took a swig from his bottle. I d never been able to drink more than a few mouthfuls. I d pour the rest away, usually behind the shed. I
think that s what clued your granddaddy in cause it was at the back of the shed where he caught me.
What did he do? Junior asked.
Made me drink the whole can. Brock nodded to the glass in Junior s hand. Just take a sip.
Junior did, and immediately pulled a face.
Want the rest?
Junior shook his head and gave the glass to Brock.
I was sick to my stomach for the rest of the day. And wasn t feelin too good the next morning either. Didn t help that your granddaddy had
cooked up the biggest, greasiest breakfast, and made me sit down to eat it.
Calvin barked out a laugh.
Never thought the kitchen table and the john were so far apart.
Calvin continued to laugh, as did Junior.
How long was it before you took another drink? Calvin asked. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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