Chapter 3
He slept fitfully that night in the narrow, rather lumpy bed. And he was woken up at the crack of dawn by a loud noise – a banging that echoed through the farm house. He sat up in bed, running a hand through his hair. What the hell was that?! He stumbled out of bed and went to the window, peering out of it. Through the frost he could just see several figures out in the yard at the back of the house, doing something to a large metal thing. What the fuck was going on at all of six-thirty in the morning!
Frankie pulled on a sweater and a pair of jeans and went downstairs. He intended to go outside and demand to know what the hell his cousins were doing at this time of the morning when civilized people were trying to sleep. But as he headed for the front door, someone began pounding on it from the other side. A voice yelled: “Damn it, open this door!” it sounded very angry.
Frankie hesitated (out of sheer cowardice) for a moment, but finally walked over and opened the door. The person standing on the other side of it scowled down at him from a height advantage of at least four inches. He only had a few seconds to realize that the man standing on the porch was the most gorgeous thing he’d ever seen in his entire life before Mr. Hottie shook a fist in his face and growled threateningly: “What do I have to do to make you guys shut the hell up over here?”
Oh, great. He was about to get the shit beat out of him by a total stud for something that wasn’t even his fault. Oh, yeah, Frankie could see that life at Hard Acre Farm was going to be just LOADS of fun.
The gorgeous stranger glared at Frankie. “Did you hear me?” he rasped.
Frankie lost his temper. He seldom did, but he’d had a bad night. And he was not only ragingly hungry after that awful ‘dinner’ last night, he was also extremely tired. He’d been woken up by that loud banging too, after all. Who the hell wanted to be up at six-thirty in the morning? Now he had a total hunk threatening him for something that wasn’t his fault at all, and he got up in the other man’s face (well, sort of, anyway) and yelled right back at him.
“Listen, buddy, I heard you just fine!” he screamed, his eyes snapping with his blazing temper. “But since I have nothing whatsoever to do with THAT,” and he waved a hand in the general direction of the backyard, “There isn’t anything I can do about it! I don’t even know what the hell is going on myself; I only got here last night! So you want to give me a break? Because I definitely need one!”
The hottie’s eyebrows were shooting up at this impassioned speech. He looked far less angry now, and more thoughtful. His eyes ran over Frankie, taking him in. “You don’t look familiar,” he conceded, folding his arms (Large, muscular arms, Frankie couldn’t help but notice) over his chest as he spoke. “Are they collecting MORE relatives? This place is starting to remind me of a farm in the Ozarks, I swear.”
“Well, I didn’t know how many people were already living here when I arrived,” Frankie replied, his own temper cooling in the face of the stranger’s returning calm. “I just came here from California because my cousin Meredith Starke offered me a place to stay while I go to college.”
“Ah,” the other man said in understanding. “So you didn’t know about the Joads? You poor thing,” he remarked dryly.
Frankie shrugged. “I guess you take your chances when accepting things that are ‘free’,” he replied just as dryly. “Anyway, why don’t we both go back there and see what is going on?”
“Fine by me. They have ‘no trespassing’ signs back there, or I’d have broken up the party a few weeks ago. That damn banging has been going on for almost a month.”
“Yikes,” Frankie said sympathetically as he stepped off the porch to join the man in the yard. “But since you’re with me, and I live here now, it shouldn’t be illegal or anything…” he said doubtfully.
A deep chuckle. “You don’t have a great understanding of the law, do you?” the man said in amusement, although he still fell into step with Frankie as they headed around the side of the house.
“No, I’m not studying law,” Frankie replied tartly, carefully walking on the snow-covered ground, which was a mere blanket over what seemed like a solid sheet of ice.
Another laugh. “What are you studying then?” the man asked curiously.
“History. Specifically the Roman Empire, which is what I’ll be getting my doctorate in.” Frankie said absently as he stepped gingerly on a patch of snow.
“Huh. That’s not as useless as studying philosophy, I suppose,” the stranger said sardonically.
Frankie stopped in his tracks and glared at the taller man over his shoulder. “Listen, mister, if you’re just set on being a jerk you can leave now. I can’t help it that my cousins woke you up this early with whatever the hell they’re doing, but that’s not a good reason to take it out on me.”
The other man studied his face, then grinned and shrugged. “Sorry. I’m pretty sleep deprived; it’s making me crazy. I work late hours, so I generally sleep in until noon or so. Until the last few weeks, that is – now I get about three hours of sleep a night.”
Frankie winced. “Ouch. I take it you’re one of the neighbors?”
“Yeah, my house is right over there,” he pointed to the left, and the house that Frankie could just see over the rather tumbledown fence. “I’m Caleb Barnes by the way.”
“Oh,” it only then occurred to the sleep-deprived Frankie that he hadn’t introduced himself, either. “I’m Frankie Post. Err…Nice to meet you,” he said doubtfully.
Caleb Barnes shook his head. “You don’t have to sound so enthusiastic,” he teased.
When Frankie eyed him dubiously, he made waving motions with his gloved hands. “Onward, Christian soldier; its bloody cold out here,” he said.
Frankie got going, agreeing with the hottie about just how damn cold it was out here. The wind seemed to be cutting through his parka. He shivered as they came around the house and arrived at the backyard. He saw a large barn, which stood with its doors open and light spilling out of it. Frankie stumbled across the bare, windswept yard toward the open doors, squinting to see what was happening.
Inside, he saw a large thing made of metal resting in the scattered straw on the floor of the barn. What was it? Then he got a better look at it, and realized that it was some kind of metal sculpture. It was, in fact, a horse in mid-rear. Its mane and tail were streaming behind it, and its mouth was slightly open. It was magnificent. Frankie stood there gaping at it. What the hell was something like this doing here? Then he heard a loud pounding again, and looked over to a long wooden worktable off to the side. He saw a large figure using a hammer on a piece of metal, pounding it out. It took him a moment to realize that it was Roger!
He felt a hand gently push him forward into the warmth of the barn and out of the wind. Caleb Barnes stepped in behind him and stood looking at the sculpture. “Damn, wouldn’t have figured that any of them was this talented,” he drawled.
“Yeah,” Frankie agreed, not believing it himself.
Just then, Roger turned around to bring the metal piece he’d been working on over to the horse sculpture. He saw the two men standing in the doorway, and frowned. “What are you doing in here?” he asked Frankie. “And who’s he?”
“I’m your neighbor,” Caleb Barnes replied, “And as for what we’re doing here…that would be to find out why the hell you’re making such a racket so early in the morning and waking everybody up.”
Roger scowled. “It’s the only time of the day that I can work on this,” he said sharply, pointing at the sculpture. “I work all day otherwise. And I need to get it finished in time for the contest.”
“Contest? “Frankie asked curiously.
His cousin nodded. “Yeah. There’s a sculpture contest taking place in a few weeks. If I win, I’ll not only get a good cash prize but my work will be showcased by the city.”
“Oh, I see,” Frankie said in bemusement. “Wow, you’re really talented, Roger. This is beautiful.”
Roger looked surprised by this praise, then pleased. He actually SMILED, an expression that lightened his dour face considerably. “Thank you, Frankie,” he replied. “The rest of the family just thinks that I’m crazy.”
“Well I don’t think so. You might actually win with this,” Frankie told him.
“If I can get it finished, that is. I’m sorry if I woke you both up,” Roger said apologetically, “But there really is no other time of the day for me to work on this.”
Caleb Barnes sighed. “I should have known it would turn out to be something I couldn’t get mad over,” he muttered in disgust. “I guess I’ll be investing in a pair of industrial-strength earplugs today, though. I need to get more sleep.”
“Me too,” Frankie said. “I’ll have to ask Seth if he’ll drive me into town later to buy a pair and then get something to eat. I’m starving.”
Roger snorted. “Rena’s cooking will do that to you,” he agreed dryly.
“If you want, you can ride in with me,” Caleb said to Frankie. “I might as well get something to eat, too. I’m not a world-class cook, anyway.”
Frankie felt a weird fluttering in his abdomen. ‘Down, boy,’ he thought at his body. ‘This could just be his way of being kind. Don’t get too excited.’
“Sure,” he said aloud, “If you don’t mind. I could eat a horse right now,” he added with a wry look at the metal sculpture. “Just not that one,” he went on.
Caleb chuckled. “Come on, then. We’ll leave…err…Roger to his work.”
Roger waved at them both as Frankie followed the other man out of the barn and toward the front of the house. This morning was starting out so strangely! But not bad at all, he thought as he eyed Caleb’s large, impressive form. He shivered his way into the passenger seat of Caleb’s car, and the other man turned on the engine and the heater at the same time. “California boy moves to Minnesota,” he said dryly. “What were you thinking?”
“I was thinking that it would be a lot cheaper here,” Frankie told him. “And it is, with my room and board taken care of. But Jesus, its cold here. I feel like an icicle.”
“You’ll adjust,” Caleb replied. Then he glanced at Frankie, his eyes twinkling. “Or you’ll freeze to death, whichever comes first…”
“Oh, ha ha,” Frankie replied. “That is SO funny.”
“Hey, you have to make light of the weather around here, or otherwise you’d kill yourself,” Caleb drawled. “Why the hell anybody lives in this state is beyond me. I miss Colorado.”
“You’re from Colorado? What are you doing here?” Frankie asked curiously.
“I moved up here because I got a very good job offer,” Caleb said. “One that was so good I couldn’t refuse it. But every year about this time I start to wish I had anyway.”
“So what do you do? What job was it?”
“Managing a night club. A dance club, really. It’s pretty popular, and the owner has been having health problems for a few years. I met him when he was on vacation in Colorado; I was managing a little club in Denver at the time, and he was impressed by the job I was doing. So when he was diagnosed with cancer, he decided he needed someone to run the place for him. He called me up and offered me a job with a great salary and benefits, and how could I refuse? So I moved up here and into the house he offered me as part of the deal. Unfortunately, it just happens to be right next door to this extremely strange hick family.”
Frankie found himself laughing a little. “That’s one way to describe them, yes,” he agreed wryly. “I had no idea what I’d be getting into when I decided to take my cousin’s offer and move up here. And I’d run back to California, except I’d still have the same old problem if I did. So I’m stuck here at least until I finish my doctorate studies.”
Caleb gave him a sympathetic look. “Well, at least it’s only for a few years,” he said, which was a small comfort.
Frankie sighed. “Yeah.” He agreed morosely.
“Food is the only thing I can offer at the moment,” Caleb said, pulling his car into the parking lot of a restaurant. “But that’s better than nothing.”
Frankie had to agree that it was, especially since he was ravenously hungry. He hopped out of the warm car without a qualm, even though it was horribly cold. It was only a few steps to the door and the warmth inside, and food, glorious food…Caleb followed after him, and if Frankie had looked back he would have seen the expression of amusement on the other man’s face.
Inside the restaurant, there were only a handful of early morning customers. Frankie shed his parka gratefully, then he and Caleb got a booth. He slid onto the comfortable padded seat with a sigh, leaning back into it as he knuckled at his eyes. “Gah, too early,” he said as he yawned.
“Agreed,” Caleb said. “The club closes at one in the morning, and then I work on orders and getting it cleaned and whatnot until at least two. Being woken up at six in the morning is not a very nice thing for me.”
A waitress came over to take their orders. Frankie ordered a ham and cheese omelet with a side order of hash browns and wheat toast. Caleb ordered scrambled eggs and sausage with white toast. Both got orange juice. She departed to the kitchen, and Frankie sipped at the glass of water in front of him. “God, I’m starving,” he muttered as his stomach rumbled loudly. “Rena’s cooking was the most ghastly thing I’ve ever tasted.”
“Who’s Rena?” Caleb asked with interest.
“Another cousin. She’s supposed to be their housekeeper, but the house is dusty and dirty. And her cooking is just terrible. Seth was joking about food poisoning, but he wasn’t far wrong. I couldn’t eat much of it.”
“Seth?”
“He’s Cousin Meredith’s son. Roger is his brother.”
“So how many people actually live in that house?”
“Nine, all told. There’s Meredith, who’s really kind of depressed and drab; there’s Roger, who you met, he’s her oldest son; there’s Seth, who’s the middle son; and there’s Elena, who’s Meredith’s youngest kid and is in high school. There’s Aaron, who is a frightening preacher who kind of reminds me of that creepy guy in Poltergeist II, who declared last night that we were all damned; there’s Rena, she of the awful cooking and linebacker dimensions; there’s a grandmother I haven’t met yet, who I think might be ill; and there’s Eric, who’s another cousin who lives out back and looked pretty creepy and dirty when I saw him at dinner last night. And then there’s me, the newcomer who’s wishing desperately that he’d stayed in California.”
Caleb chuckled at his dry description of his new ‘family’. “I knew there were a lot of people living there, since I’ve caught glimpses of them from time-to-time,” he commented. “I think I’ve seen almost everybody except for the grandmother. I thought that Eric guy was a homeless person,” he added with a grin.
Frankie laughed. “He’s close enough, anyway,” he agreed.
The waitress returned with two full plates of food. Frankie practically licked his lips as she set his down in front of him. He picked up his fork and dug in, a goofily blissful expression spreading across his face as he tasted real food. God, it was good! Caleb shook his head and applied himself to his own meal, although not with quite as much energy and enthusiasm as the half-starved Frankie was.
Frankie finally leaned back in his chair with a contented sigh, patting his full belly happily. “Ahh, that was good!” he said.
Caleb grinned faintly. “I could tell,” he replied in amusement. “It’s a wonder you didn’t eat the plate. Where did a little guy like you put it all?”
Frankie glared at him for the ‘little’ crack. “I have a hollow leg, I’ll have you know,” he sniffed in outrage.
Caleb chuckled. “Is that so? Did you lose your real leg in the War?” he teased.
Frankie folded his arms over his chest. “Listen, pal, I’m really grateful to you for feeding me,” he snapped, “But if all you’re going to do is make fun of me, you can take me home right now. I’m due back in the bosom of my hillbilly family,” he added dryly.
The other man laid his arms on top of the table and stared at Frankie thoughtfully. “I could do that,” he conceded. “Take you back to the farm right now. Or I could take you ice skating instead. It’s your choice.”
Frankie blinked, his mouth opening a little. Had Caleb just…? He stared at the other man uncertainly. “Ice skating?” he repeated slowly. “Why ice skating?”
“Because sunbathing is out of the question right now,” Caleb replied, his eyes twinkling.
Frankie blew an exasperated breath out, glowering a little once more. This guy was really starting to irritate him. If he wasn’t such a drop dead hottie he probably would have stormed out of the restaurant and taken a cab home. “Funny,” he drawled. “I meant – why do you want to go ice skating with ME? Don’t you have a girlfriend who’d like to do that with you?”
This blatant fishing made Caleb’s lips twitch. “Maybe I just want to see what a California boy looks like with ice skates on,” he said.
Frankie sniffed. “We have ice skating rinks in California, you know,” he pointed out, “They just keep them artificially frozen. I’m not going to make a spectacle of myself.”
Caleb tilted his head to the side a little. “Maybe not, but it’d be cute,” he told Frankie.
“Cute?” he asked, looking perplexed. “Why cute?”
“Because YOU’RE cute,” Caleb said promptly. “I just want to pinch your little cheek,” he murmured, reaching out a hand and making pinching motions with his fingers.
Frankie felt a little breathless, but that didn’t stop him from pulling out of range and frowning at Caleb.
“Funny,” he snapped. “First I’m little, now I’m cute. What am I, a puppy?”
Caleb snorted and drank his coffee. “No, you’re a guy. Just a cute guy,” he added. Suddenly there was a look in his eyes that made Frankie’s guts tighten treacherously. “So do you want to go ice skating with me, cutie?”
“Umm…I guess I could do that,” he said rather hoarsely.
Caleb’s eyes gleamed. “Great,” he replied. “I’m beginning to think that having the Joads living next to me was way luckier than I ever would have assumed, especially with the last month of banging,” he paused, and his lips quirked. “Banging isn’t always bad,” he remarked thoughtfully, making Frankie nearly spit out the mouthful of orange juice he’d gulped to help his sudden dry mouth.
“No it isn’t,” he sputtered with as much dignity as he could muster when he could speak again without coughing.
Caleb grinned at him. “Well, off to shopping,” he said, signaling the waitress for the check. “Then we can go to this ice rink that I know. Then lunch. Sound good?”
“Yes,” Frankie replied, and it did indeed sound good. Very good.
Go to Next Chapter
He slept fitfully that night in the narrow, rather lumpy bed. And he was woken up at the crack of dawn by a loud noise – a banging that echoed through the farm house. He sat up in bed, running a hand through his hair. What the hell was that?! He stumbled out of bed and went to the window, peering out of it. Through the frost he could just see several figures out in the yard at the back of the house, doing something to a large metal thing. What the fuck was going on at all of six-thirty in the morning!
Frankie pulled on a sweater and a pair of jeans and went downstairs. He intended to go outside and demand to know what the hell his cousins were doing at this time of the morning when civilized people were trying to sleep. But as he headed for the front door, someone began pounding on it from the other side. A voice yelled: “Damn it, open this door!” it sounded very angry.
Frankie hesitated (out of sheer cowardice) for a moment, but finally walked over and opened the door. The person standing on the other side of it scowled down at him from a height advantage of at least four inches. He only had a few seconds to realize that the man standing on the porch was the most gorgeous thing he’d ever seen in his entire life before Mr. Hottie shook a fist in his face and growled threateningly: “What do I have to do to make you guys shut the hell up over here?”
Oh, great. He was about to get the shit beat out of him by a total stud for something that wasn’t even his fault. Oh, yeah, Frankie could see that life at Hard Acre Farm was going to be just LOADS of fun.
The gorgeous stranger glared at Frankie. “Did you hear me?” he rasped.
Frankie lost his temper. He seldom did, but he’d had a bad night. And he was not only ragingly hungry after that awful ‘dinner’ last night, he was also extremely tired. He’d been woken up by that loud banging too, after all. Who the hell wanted to be up at six-thirty in the morning? Now he had a total hunk threatening him for something that wasn’t his fault at all, and he got up in the other man’s face (well, sort of, anyway) and yelled right back at him.
“Listen, buddy, I heard you just fine!” he screamed, his eyes snapping with his blazing temper. “But since I have nothing whatsoever to do with THAT,” and he waved a hand in the general direction of the backyard, “There isn’t anything I can do about it! I don’t even know what the hell is going on myself; I only got here last night! So you want to give me a break? Because I definitely need one!”
The hottie’s eyebrows were shooting up at this impassioned speech. He looked far less angry now, and more thoughtful. His eyes ran over Frankie, taking him in. “You don’t look familiar,” he conceded, folding his arms (Large, muscular arms, Frankie couldn’t help but notice) over his chest as he spoke. “Are they collecting MORE relatives? This place is starting to remind me of a farm in the Ozarks, I swear.”
“Well, I didn’t know how many people were already living here when I arrived,” Frankie replied, his own temper cooling in the face of the stranger’s returning calm. “I just came here from California because my cousin Meredith Starke offered me a place to stay while I go to college.”
“Ah,” the other man said in understanding. “So you didn’t know about the Joads? You poor thing,” he remarked dryly.
Frankie shrugged. “I guess you take your chances when accepting things that are ‘free’,” he replied just as dryly. “Anyway, why don’t we both go back there and see what is going on?”
“Fine by me. They have ‘no trespassing’ signs back there, or I’d have broken up the party a few weeks ago. That damn banging has been going on for almost a month.”
“Yikes,” Frankie said sympathetically as he stepped off the porch to join the man in the yard. “But since you’re with me, and I live here now, it shouldn’t be illegal or anything…” he said doubtfully.
A deep chuckle. “You don’t have a great understanding of the law, do you?” the man said in amusement, although he still fell into step with Frankie as they headed around the side of the house.
“No, I’m not studying law,” Frankie replied tartly, carefully walking on the snow-covered ground, which was a mere blanket over what seemed like a solid sheet of ice.
Another laugh. “What are you studying then?” the man asked curiously.
“History. Specifically the Roman Empire, which is what I’ll be getting my doctorate in.” Frankie said absently as he stepped gingerly on a patch of snow.
“Huh. That’s not as useless as studying philosophy, I suppose,” the stranger said sardonically.
Frankie stopped in his tracks and glared at the taller man over his shoulder. “Listen, mister, if you’re just set on being a jerk you can leave now. I can’t help it that my cousins woke you up this early with whatever the hell they’re doing, but that’s not a good reason to take it out on me.”
The other man studied his face, then grinned and shrugged. “Sorry. I’m pretty sleep deprived; it’s making me crazy. I work late hours, so I generally sleep in until noon or so. Until the last few weeks, that is – now I get about three hours of sleep a night.”
Frankie winced. “Ouch. I take it you’re one of the neighbors?”
“Yeah, my house is right over there,” he pointed to the left, and the house that Frankie could just see over the rather tumbledown fence. “I’m Caleb Barnes by the way.”
“Oh,” it only then occurred to the sleep-deprived Frankie that he hadn’t introduced himself, either. “I’m Frankie Post. Err…Nice to meet you,” he said doubtfully.
Caleb Barnes shook his head. “You don’t have to sound so enthusiastic,” he teased.
When Frankie eyed him dubiously, he made waving motions with his gloved hands. “Onward, Christian soldier; its bloody cold out here,” he said.
Frankie got going, agreeing with the hottie about just how damn cold it was out here. The wind seemed to be cutting through his parka. He shivered as they came around the house and arrived at the backyard. He saw a large barn, which stood with its doors open and light spilling out of it. Frankie stumbled across the bare, windswept yard toward the open doors, squinting to see what was happening.
Inside, he saw a large thing made of metal resting in the scattered straw on the floor of the barn. What was it? Then he got a better look at it, and realized that it was some kind of metal sculpture. It was, in fact, a horse in mid-rear. Its mane and tail were streaming behind it, and its mouth was slightly open. It was magnificent. Frankie stood there gaping at it. What the hell was something like this doing here? Then he heard a loud pounding again, and looked over to a long wooden worktable off to the side. He saw a large figure using a hammer on a piece of metal, pounding it out. It took him a moment to realize that it was Roger!
He felt a hand gently push him forward into the warmth of the barn and out of the wind. Caleb Barnes stepped in behind him and stood looking at the sculpture. “Damn, wouldn’t have figured that any of them was this talented,” he drawled.
“Yeah,” Frankie agreed, not believing it himself.
Just then, Roger turned around to bring the metal piece he’d been working on over to the horse sculpture. He saw the two men standing in the doorway, and frowned. “What are you doing in here?” he asked Frankie. “And who’s he?”
“I’m your neighbor,” Caleb Barnes replied, “And as for what we’re doing here…that would be to find out why the hell you’re making such a racket so early in the morning and waking everybody up.”
Roger scowled. “It’s the only time of the day that I can work on this,” he said sharply, pointing at the sculpture. “I work all day otherwise. And I need to get it finished in time for the contest.”
“Contest? “Frankie asked curiously.
His cousin nodded. “Yeah. There’s a sculpture contest taking place in a few weeks. If I win, I’ll not only get a good cash prize but my work will be showcased by the city.”
“Oh, I see,” Frankie said in bemusement. “Wow, you’re really talented, Roger. This is beautiful.”
Roger looked surprised by this praise, then pleased. He actually SMILED, an expression that lightened his dour face considerably. “Thank you, Frankie,” he replied. “The rest of the family just thinks that I’m crazy.”
“Well I don’t think so. You might actually win with this,” Frankie told him.
“If I can get it finished, that is. I’m sorry if I woke you both up,” Roger said apologetically, “But there really is no other time of the day for me to work on this.”
Caleb Barnes sighed. “I should have known it would turn out to be something I couldn’t get mad over,” he muttered in disgust. “I guess I’ll be investing in a pair of industrial-strength earplugs today, though. I need to get more sleep.”
“Me too,” Frankie said. “I’ll have to ask Seth if he’ll drive me into town later to buy a pair and then get something to eat. I’m starving.”
Roger snorted. “Rena’s cooking will do that to you,” he agreed dryly.
“If you want, you can ride in with me,” Caleb said to Frankie. “I might as well get something to eat, too. I’m not a world-class cook, anyway.”
Frankie felt a weird fluttering in his abdomen. ‘Down, boy,’ he thought at his body. ‘This could just be his way of being kind. Don’t get too excited.’
“Sure,” he said aloud, “If you don’t mind. I could eat a horse right now,” he added with a wry look at the metal sculpture. “Just not that one,” he went on.
Caleb chuckled. “Come on, then. We’ll leave…err…Roger to his work.”
Roger waved at them both as Frankie followed the other man out of the barn and toward the front of the house. This morning was starting out so strangely! But not bad at all, he thought as he eyed Caleb’s large, impressive form. He shivered his way into the passenger seat of Caleb’s car, and the other man turned on the engine and the heater at the same time. “California boy moves to Minnesota,” he said dryly. “What were you thinking?”
“I was thinking that it would be a lot cheaper here,” Frankie told him. “And it is, with my room and board taken care of. But Jesus, its cold here. I feel like an icicle.”
“You’ll adjust,” Caleb replied. Then he glanced at Frankie, his eyes twinkling. “Or you’ll freeze to death, whichever comes first…”
“Oh, ha ha,” Frankie replied. “That is SO funny.”
“Hey, you have to make light of the weather around here, or otherwise you’d kill yourself,” Caleb drawled. “Why the hell anybody lives in this state is beyond me. I miss Colorado.”
“You’re from Colorado? What are you doing here?” Frankie asked curiously.
“I moved up here because I got a very good job offer,” Caleb said. “One that was so good I couldn’t refuse it. But every year about this time I start to wish I had anyway.”
“So what do you do? What job was it?”
“Managing a night club. A dance club, really. It’s pretty popular, and the owner has been having health problems for a few years. I met him when he was on vacation in Colorado; I was managing a little club in Denver at the time, and he was impressed by the job I was doing. So when he was diagnosed with cancer, he decided he needed someone to run the place for him. He called me up and offered me a job with a great salary and benefits, and how could I refuse? So I moved up here and into the house he offered me as part of the deal. Unfortunately, it just happens to be right next door to this extremely strange hick family.”
Frankie found himself laughing a little. “That’s one way to describe them, yes,” he agreed wryly. “I had no idea what I’d be getting into when I decided to take my cousin’s offer and move up here. And I’d run back to California, except I’d still have the same old problem if I did. So I’m stuck here at least until I finish my doctorate studies.”
Caleb gave him a sympathetic look. “Well, at least it’s only for a few years,” he said, which was a small comfort.
Frankie sighed. “Yeah.” He agreed morosely.
“Food is the only thing I can offer at the moment,” Caleb said, pulling his car into the parking lot of a restaurant. “But that’s better than nothing.”
Frankie had to agree that it was, especially since he was ravenously hungry. He hopped out of the warm car without a qualm, even though it was horribly cold. It was only a few steps to the door and the warmth inside, and food, glorious food…Caleb followed after him, and if Frankie had looked back he would have seen the expression of amusement on the other man’s face.
Inside the restaurant, there were only a handful of early morning customers. Frankie shed his parka gratefully, then he and Caleb got a booth. He slid onto the comfortable padded seat with a sigh, leaning back into it as he knuckled at his eyes. “Gah, too early,” he said as he yawned.
“Agreed,” Caleb said. “The club closes at one in the morning, and then I work on orders and getting it cleaned and whatnot until at least two. Being woken up at six in the morning is not a very nice thing for me.”
A waitress came over to take their orders. Frankie ordered a ham and cheese omelet with a side order of hash browns and wheat toast. Caleb ordered scrambled eggs and sausage with white toast. Both got orange juice. She departed to the kitchen, and Frankie sipped at the glass of water in front of him. “God, I’m starving,” he muttered as his stomach rumbled loudly. “Rena’s cooking was the most ghastly thing I’ve ever tasted.”
“Who’s Rena?” Caleb asked with interest.
“Another cousin. She’s supposed to be their housekeeper, but the house is dusty and dirty. And her cooking is just terrible. Seth was joking about food poisoning, but he wasn’t far wrong. I couldn’t eat much of it.”
“Seth?”
“He’s Cousin Meredith’s son. Roger is his brother.”
“So how many people actually live in that house?”
“Nine, all told. There’s Meredith, who’s really kind of depressed and drab; there’s Roger, who you met, he’s her oldest son; there’s Seth, who’s the middle son; and there’s Elena, who’s Meredith’s youngest kid and is in high school. There’s Aaron, who is a frightening preacher who kind of reminds me of that creepy guy in Poltergeist II, who declared last night that we were all damned; there’s Rena, she of the awful cooking and linebacker dimensions; there’s a grandmother I haven’t met yet, who I think might be ill; and there’s Eric, who’s another cousin who lives out back and looked pretty creepy and dirty when I saw him at dinner last night. And then there’s me, the newcomer who’s wishing desperately that he’d stayed in California.”
Caleb chuckled at his dry description of his new ‘family’. “I knew there were a lot of people living there, since I’ve caught glimpses of them from time-to-time,” he commented. “I think I’ve seen almost everybody except for the grandmother. I thought that Eric guy was a homeless person,” he added with a grin.
Frankie laughed. “He’s close enough, anyway,” he agreed.
The waitress returned with two full plates of food. Frankie practically licked his lips as she set his down in front of him. He picked up his fork and dug in, a goofily blissful expression spreading across his face as he tasted real food. God, it was good! Caleb shook his head and applied himself to his own meal, although not with quite as much energy and enthusiasm as the half-starved Frankie was.
Frankie finally leaned back in his chair with a contented sigh, patting his full belly happily. “Ahh, that was good!” he said.
Caleb grinned faintly. “I could tell,” he replied in amusement. “It’s a wonder you didn’t eat the plate. Where did a little guy like you put it all?”
Frankie glared at him for the ‘little’ crack. “I have a hollow leg, I’ll have you know,” he sniffed in outrage.
Caleb chuckled. “Is that so? Did you lose your real leg in the War?” he teased.
Frankie folded his arms over his chest. “Listen, pal, I’m really grateful to you for feeding me,” he snapped, “But if all you’re going to do is make fun of me, you can take me home right now. I’m due back in the bosom of my hillbilly family,” he added dryly.
The other man laid his arms on top of the table and stared at Frankie thoughtfully. “I could do that,” he conceded. “Take you back to the farm right now. Or I could take you ice skating instead. It’s your choice.”
Frankie blinked, his mouth opening a little. Had Caleb just…? He stared at the other man uncertainly. “Ice skating?” he repeated slowly. “Why ice skating?”
“Because sunbathing is out of the question right now,” Caleb replied, his eyes twinkling.
Frankie blew an exasperated breath out, glowering a little once more. This guy was really starting to irritate him. If he wasn’t such a drop dead hottie he probably would have stormed out of the restaurant and taken a cab home. “Funny,” he drawled. “I meant – why do you want to go ice skating with ME? Don’t you have a girlfriend who’d like to do that with you?”
This blatant fishing made Caleb’s lips twitch. “Maybe I just want to see what a California boy looks like with ice skates on,” he said.
Frankie sniffed. “We have ice skating rinks in California, you know,” he pointed out, “They just keep them artificially frozen. I’m not going to make a spectacle of myself.”
Caleb tilted his head to the side a little. “Maybe not, but it’d be cute,” he told Frankie.
“Cute?” he asked, looking perplexed. “Why cute?”
“Because YOU’RE cute,” Caleb said promptly. “I just want to pinch your little cheek,” he murmured, reaching out a hand and making pinching motions with his fingers.
Frankie felt a little breathless, but that didn’t stop him from pulling out of range and frowning at Caleb.
“Funny,” he snapped. “First I’m little, now I’m cute. What am I, a puppy?”
Caleb snorted and drank his coffee. “No, you’re a guy. Just a cute guy,” he added. Suddenly there was a look in his eyes that made Frankie’s guts tighten treacherously. “So do you want to go ice skating with me, cutie?”
“Umm…I guess I could do that,” he said rather hoarsely.
Caleb’s eyes gleamed. “Great,” he replied. “I’m beginning to think that having the Joads living next to me was way luckier than I ever would have assumed, especially with the last month of banging,” he paused, and his lips quirked. “Banging isn’t always bad,” he remarked thoughtfully, making Frankie nearly spit out the mouthful of orange juice he’d gulped to help his sudden dry mouth.
“No it isn’t,” he sputtered with as much dignity as he could muster when he could speak again without coughing.
Caleb grinned at him. “Well, off to shopping,” he said, signaling the waitress for the check. “Then we can go to this ice rink that I know. Then lunch. Sound good?”
“Yes,” Frankie replied, and it did indeed sound good. Very good.
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