Chapter 8
Frankie was feeling horribly confined by late Saturday. He couldn’t go outside for too long, because it was too cold outside. He was actively avoiding many members of the Starke family, and the few that he’d actually have hung out with were (not surprisingly) gone. He wandered the house like a lost soul, bored and frustrated. He saw Rena in the kitchen, doing God knew what. He retreated when he saw her broad back, and moved on toward the living room. As he did so, he heard a loud sound from outside. He paused, wondering what the heck that could be. It wasn’t a banging this time, just a loud metallic sound.
Eaten up by curiosity, he pulled on his new parka and gloves and ventured outside. The sound led him around to the back of the house, and he saw a large flat-bed truck standing outside the barn. Roger and Eric and the handyman Adam were all standing there, and they had ropes in their hands. They were carefully pulling the rearing horse statue up a ramp and onto the truck. Frankie wondered if he should offer to help, but frankly he wasn’t terribly strong and would probably just get in the way. He watched as the men got the statue onto the truck, then Roger clambered up onto it and began to tie the statue down with rope to the truck bed. Eric and Adam also watched, and when he was finished the two men wandered away back into the barn.
Frankie started to leave, but he heard Roger’s voice saying his name. When he turned back around, he saw his cousin standing there stoically beside the truck. “Hey, Frankie. I’m just gonna go turn this statue in to the contest. You wanna come with me?”
Surprised, Frankie blinked up at him. “You want me to go with you? Why not take Seth or Elena?” he asked.
Roger shrugged dourly. “They’re both gone,” he said. “Ma’s too busy, and Dad’s never around. Wouldn’t take him anyway,” he grunted in disgust. “Would you come with me?”
The hopefulness in his voice got to Frankie. “Sure,” he said.
Roger looked faintly pleased and waved a hand at the passenger’s side of the truck. “Get in.”
Frankie hurried to do so, since he was bone-cold out here. Roger had the heater running in the truck, and he collapsed back on the seat blissfully. His cousin finally came to climb in behind the wheel. He put the truck in gear and drove it out of the yard. “So you’re done with the sculpture?” Frankie said, knowing that this was a lame question since it was obvious that Roger had finished the statue, but wanting to start a conversation going between them.
“Ayuh.” Roger replied succinctly.
Lord, this wasn’t going to be easy. Frankie wracked his brains for another topic of conversation, but was coming up blank. Then Roger startled him when his cousin said: “I’m hoping to win this contest. The prize’ll help me get together enough money to get a place of my own.”
“Oh,” Frankie said in understanding. He didn’t blame Roger at all for wanting to get the hell out of that house and way from his loony family. But… “You seem to work awfully hard, Roger. Doesn’t your job pay well enough for you to move out on?”
“Ayuh, if I just wanted to get an apartment,” Roger agreed laconically. “But I don’t. I want enough for a down payment on a house. Once I have that, I can propose to Anna.”
“Who’s Anna?” Frankie asked, being eaten up with curiosity.
“She’s a woman I work with. We’ve been dating for a few years now on-and-off, but she told me awhile ago that she wants a family and a home of her own. She doesn’t think I can give that to her; she thinks that I’m too attached to my family to ever break away from them. And she’d never move in with us, which I can’t blame her for. No woman in her right mind would want to live with MY family.”
Who would? Frankie thought wryly. “So you want money to buy a house…but why couldn’t you just move into an apartment with her? To prove that you can leave your family, I mean.”
Roger sighed. “I want to be able to give her everything that she deserves,” he explained quietly. “When we have kids, I want a real house for them so that they can have a backyard to play in and their own rooms. Houses are too expensive around here for me to be able to save up a down payment just from my salary, especially since I’m paying my parents some rent money. And of course, Grandma would never help me because she doesn’t want me to ever leave. So I have to do it myself.”
Frankie had to admire his tenacity and drive. “Why doesn’t your grandmother want you to leave?” he asked in puzzlement.
Roger grimaced. “Because she’s barking mad,” he replied dryly. “She loves having control over all of us using her money. Everybody’s hopeful that she’ll die and leave it to all of us, but I think that she’s gonna live forever. And even if she does kick the bucket, I think that she’d spite us all anyway and leave the money to charity or something. I could see her doing that. So I have to make it my own, with my own hard work and effort. That’s how it should be, anyway. ” he added phlegmatically.
“Wow,” Frankie said. “I have to say, that’s pretty admirable, Roger. Doing it all yourself, working hard and trying to find a way to make money so you can get married…I hope it all works out for you,” he said sincerely.
Roger smiled slightly, an expression that lightened up his dour face considerably. “Thanks, Frankie. You know, I’m glad that you came to stay with us. When Ma first said that another cousin was going to move in with us, I was pretty disgusted. I thought you’d be another Rena or Eric, sponging off of Ma and Dad. Or another Seth, because you were gay and I thought that all gay men just ran around trying to sleep with anything that moved. Now I see that it’s just Seth,” he said dryly.
“Well, no it isn’t. There are plenty of promiscuous gay men out there, but then there are plenty of promiscuous straight guys too. It’s just how most of us are hard-wired. Always thinking about sex and how we can get laid.”
Roger nodded. “I’ve seen that,” he admitted. “Some of the guys where I work cheat on their wives all the time, even though some of those ladies are pretty and sweet and really nice. It’s pathetic. Men need to stop acting that way. A real man doesn’t need to run around like that when he’s got something great at home.”
Frankie laughed a little. “Well, it’s just not guys,” he pointed out. “Or otherwise how could those men cheat? They have to have women to cheat with unless they’re gay. Those women are just as culpable – maybe even worse, since if they know the guy is married and still sleep with him that’s pretty inexcusable.”
“I never thought about it that way,” Roger remarked slowly. “But you’re right. People can be pretty awful, can’t they? I just don’t understand them most of the time.”
“You and me both, Roger,” Frankie said dryly. “You and me both.”
They dropped off the sculpture, and Roger filled out the paperwork and paid the entry fee for his piece of art work. Frankie didn’t mind hanging around while he did so, since at least he was out of the house. After they were done, Roger surprised him again by turning to him and asking: ”Would you like to go and get a cup of coffee somewhere?”
“Sure,” Frankie said eagerly. Anything that would keep him away from Hard Acre for awhile longer…
Roger nodded and drove them to a restaurant. Sitting in a booth, they both ordered coffee and Frankie got a piece of cake too. His cousin glanced outside at the winter wonderland. “So what do you think of Minnesota so far, Frankie?” he asked.
“Cold,” Frankie replied with a grimace, “Would be the one word that sums it up.”
Roger grunted in laughter. “Ayuh, it is,” he agreed. “Especially for you, comin’ from California. What’s it like out there?”
Frankie began to tell him about San Francisco, how warm it was and how the houses were built on sloping hills overlooking the bay. He described the Golden Gate Bridge, and all of the sights to be seen by a tourist. Fisherman’s Wharf, for example, or the Presidio. Roger listened in silent fascination to his recitation, then shook his head slowly. “It sounds strange,” he said. “I’ve never been anywhere but here. Wouldn’t mind travelling to somewhere else, I guess. Maybe on my honeymoon.”
“San Fran is a great place for a couple to go on their honeymoon,” Frankie agreed. He grinned. “Just stay out of the Castro District,” he teased.
“Why?”
Frankie giggled. “Because it’s a notorious gay district. Seth would be right at home there. Does that tell you anything?”
Roger looked rather alarmed. “I’ll stay away from there if I ever go to San Francisco,” he said.
“Speaking of Seth, I know he doesn’t have a job. So why don’t your parents kick him out?” Frankie asked curiously.
Roger snorted derisively. “Dad would love to kick him out,” he drawled. “But Grandma won’t let him. Seth is her favorite. He charms her into just about anything except for parting with her cash. She don’t even care that he’s gay. Makes Dad mad sometimes, let me tell you…which is one of the reasons that I don’t hate Seth outright,” he added drolly.
Frankie’s lips twitched. “I can see that,” he said. “Although Seth’s not a bad guy, really, except for the fact that he hits on me all the time. I don’t think he’s used to people refusing him,” he explained to Roger.
“Well, it pleases me that you turn him down, Frankie. He’s a no-good…” he paused, as though looking for the right word.
“Male slut?” Frankie offered, making his cousin look uncomfortable.
“That’s the right word,” he said. “Though I don’t like using it to describe my own brother.”
“Well, if the word fits…” Frankie said impishly.
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Frankie was feeling horribly confined by late Saturday. He couldn’t go outside for too long, because it was too cold outside. He was actively avoiding many members of the Starke family, and the few that he’d actually have hung out with were (not surprisingly) gone. He wandered the house like a lost soul, bored and frustrated. He saw Rena in the kitchen, doing God knew what. He retreated when he saw her broad back, and moved on toward the living room. As he did so, he heard a loud sound from outside. He paused, wondering what the heck that could be. It wasn’t a banging this time, just a loud metallic sound.
Eaten up by curiosity, he pulled on his new parka and gloves and ventured outside. The sound led him around to the back of the house, and he saw a large flat-bed truck standing outside the barn. Roger and Eric and the handyman Adam were all standing there, and they had ropes in their hands. They were carefully pulling the rearing horse statue up a ramp and onto the truck. Frankie wondered if he should offer to help, but frankly he wasn’t terribly strong and would probably just get in the way. He watched as the men got the statue onto the truck, then Roger clambered up onto it and began to tie the statue down with rope to the truck bed. Eric and Adam also watched, and when he was finished the two men wandered away back into the barn.
Frankie started to leave, but he heard Roger’s voice saying his name. When he turned back around, he saw his cousin standing there stoically beside the truck. “Hey, Frankie. I’m just gonna go turn this statue in to the contest. You wanna come with me?”
Surprised, Frankie blinked up at him. “You want me to go with you? Why not take Seth or Elena?” he asked.
Roger shrugged dourly. “They’re both gone,” he said. “Ma’s too busy, and Dad’s never around. Wouldn’t take him anyway,” he grunted in disgust. “Would you come with me?”
The hopefulness in his voice got to Frankie. “Sure,” he said.
Roger looked faintly pleased and waved a hand at the passenger’s side of the truck. “Get in.”
Frankie hurried to do so, since he was bone-cold out here. Roger had the heater running in the truck, and he collapsed back on the seat blissfully. His cousin finally came to climb in behind the wheel. He put the truck in gear and drove it out of the yard. “So you’re done with the sculpture?” Frankie said, knowing that this was a lame question since it was obvious that Roger had finished the statue, but wanting to start a conversation going between them.
“Ayuh.” Roger replied succinctly.
Lord, this wasn’t going to be easy. Frankie wracked his brains for another topic of conversation, but was coming up blank. Then Roger startled him when his cousin said: “I’m hoping to win this contest. The prize’ll help me get together enough money to get a place of my own.”
“Oh,” Frankie said in understanding. He didn’t blame Roger at all for wanting to get the hell out of that house and way from his loony family. But… “You seem to work awfully hard, Roger. Doesn’t your job pay well enough for you to move out on?”
“Ayuh, if I just wanted to get an apartment,” Roger agreed laconically. “But I don’t. I want enough for a down payment on a house. Once I have that, I can propose to Anna.”
“Who’s Anna?” Frankie asked, being eaten up with curiosity.
“She’s a woman I work with. We’ve been dating for a few years now on-and-off, but she told me awhile ago that she wants a family and a home of her own. She doesn’t think I can give that to her; she thinks that I’m too attached to my family to ever break away from them. And she’d never move in with us, which I can’t blame her for. No woman in her right mind would want to live with MY family.”
Who would? Frankie thought wryly. “So you want money to buy a house…but why couldn’t you just move into an apartment with her? To prove that you can leave your family, I mean.”
Roger sighed. “I want to be able to give her everything that she deserves,” he explained quietly. “When we have kids, I want a real house for them so that they can have a backyard to play in and their own rooms. Houses are too expensive around here for me to be able to save up a down payment just from my salary, especially since I’m paying my parents some rent money. And of course, Grandma would never help me because she doesn’t want me to ever leave. So I have to do it myself.”
Frankie had to admire his tenacity and drive. “Why doesn’t your grandmother want you to leave?” he asked in puzzlement.
Roger grimaced. “Because she’s barking mad,” he replied dryly. “She loves having control over all of us using her money. Everybody’s hopeful that she’ll die and leave it to all of us, but I think that she’s gonna live forever. And even if she does kick the bucket, I think that she’d spite us all anyway and leave the money to charity or something. I could see her doing that. So I have to make it my own, with my own hard work and effort. That’s how it should be, anyway. ” he added phlegmatically.
“Wow,” Frankie said. “I have to say, that’s pretty admirable, Roger. Doing it all yourself, working hard and trying to find a way to make money so you can get married…I hope it all works out for you,” he said sincerely.
Roger smiled slightly, an expression that lightened up his dour face considerably. “Thanks, Frankie. You know, I’m glad that you came to stay with us. When Ma first said that another cousin was going to move in with us, I was pretty disgusted. I thought you’d be another Rena or Eric, sponging off of Ma and Dad. Or another Seth, because you were gay and I thought that all gay men just ran around trying to sleep with anything that moved. Now I see that it’s just Seth,” he said dryly.
“Well, no it isn’t. There are plenty of promiscuous gay men out there, but then there are plenty of promiscuous straight guys too. It’s just how most of us are hard-wired. Always thinking about sex and how we can get laid.”
Roger nodded. “I’ve seen that,” he admitted. “Some of the guys where I work cheat on their wives all the time, even though some of those ladies are pretty and sweet and really nice. It’s pathetic. Men need to stop acting that way. A real man doesn’t need to run around like that when he’s got something great at home.”
Frankie laughed a little. “Well, it’s just not guys,” he pointed out. “Or otherwise how could those men cheat? They have to have women to cheat with unless they’re gay. Those women are just as culpable – maybe even worse, since if they know the guy is married and still sleep with him that’s pretty inexcusable.”
“I never thought about it that way,” Roger remarked slowly. “But you’re right. People can be pretty awful, can’t they? I just don’t understand them most of the time.”
“You and me both, Roger,” Frankie said dryly. “You and me both.”
They dropped off the sculpture, and Roger filled out the paperwork and paid the entry fee for his piece of art work. Frankie didn’t mind hanging around while he did so, since at least he was out of the house. After they were done, Roger surprised him again by turning to him and asking: ”Would you like to go and get a cup of coffee somewhere?”
“Sure,” Frankie said eagerly. Anything that would keep him away from Hard Acre for awhile longer…
Roger nodded and drove them to a restaurant. Sitting in a booth, they both ordered coffee and Frankie got a piece of cake too. His cousin glanced outside at the winter wonderland. “So what do you think of Minnesota so far, Frankie?” he asked.
“Cold,” Frankie replied with a grimace, “Would be the one word that sums it up.”
Roger grunted in laughter. “Ayuh, it is,” he agreed. “Especially for you, comin’ from California. What’s it like out there?”
Frankie began to tell him about San Francisco, how warm it was and how the houses were built on sloping hills overlooking the bay. He described the Golden Gate Bridge, and all of the sights to be seen by a tourist. Fisherman’s Wharf, for example, or the Presidio. Roger listened in silent fascination to his recitation, then shook his head slowly. “It sounds strange,” he said. “I’ve never been anywhere but here. Wouldn’t mind travelling to somewhere else, I guess. Maybe on my honeymoon.”
“San Fran is a great place for a couple to go on their honeymoon,” Frankie agreed. He grinned. “Just stay out of the Castro District,” he teased.
“Why?”
Frankie giggled. “Because it’s a notorious gay district. Seth would be right at home there. Does that tell you anything?”
Roger looked rather alarmed. “I’ll stay away from there if I ever go to San Francisco,” he said.
“Speaking of Seth, I know he doesn’t have a job. So why don’t your parents kick him out?” Frankie asked curiously.
Roger snorted derisively. “Dad would love to kick him out,” he drawled. “But Grandma won’t let him. Seth is her favorite. He charms her into just about anything except for parting with her cash. She don’t even care that he’s gay. Makes Dad mad sometimes, let me tell you…which is one of the reasons that I don’t hate Seth outright,” he added drolly.
Frankie’s lips twitched. “I can see that,” he said. “Although Seth’s not a bad guy, really, except for the fact that he hits on me all the time. I don’t think he’s used to people refusing him,” he explained to Roger.
“Well, it pleases me that you turn him down, Frankie. He’s a no-good…” he paused, as though looking for the right word.
“Male slut?” Frankie offered, making his cousin look uncomfortable.
“That’s the right word,” he said. “Though I don’t like using it to describe my own brother.”
“Well, if the word fits…” Frankie said impishly.
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