Date: Mon, 11 Oct 2004 20:11:22 -0700 (PDT)
From: taarob <taarob@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Good Doctor 18

This is a work of fiction.  I love getting email so if you
would like to contact me you can at taarob@yahoo.com or if
you'd like to see some other things that I've written you
can go to my web site at http://www.mygaystories.com .


                    The Good Doctor 18


"We can't do this!!!!!!!"

"What?  We're not doing anything.  Besides nobodies gonna
know!"  He slid his hand down the back of my pants and was
playing with my butt.  My libido was screaming YES but my
brain was screaming NO.  I wanted him in me, I wanted that
feeling of possession of belonging.  I mean, geez!
Shouldn't this be slowing down?  It's like we're having more
sex all the time.

"Besides, I'm a doctor and I think that you really really
need this."  Yeah right......like a prescription!

"Pete, that bitch Jane knows that we're in here and there's
no fucking way that she's giving us time to fuck."  Charlie
seems to be paying big time attention to Jane so maybe
that'll lead to her getting banged once in a while and
she'll get off my case.  Oh god he's kissing my neck!
"Besides, why I you so horny? We had sex this morning!"

He smiles at me and then kisses me again.  "I don't know,
it's crazy."  He nuzzles my neck and nibbles for a split
second on my ear.  "I," he rubs his eyes and shakes his head
slowly, "I think about you all the time.  I think about you
more than I did before, before.....we were together...crazy,
it's crazy."  The corners of his eyes get all crinkly and
are sexy as hell in a male outdoors kinda way.  Pete is tan
and that really makes his blue eyes pop while his blond hair
is dropping down over his forehead.  His voice is all rumbly
and makes me vibrate down to my toes.

Pete pulls his face away, smiles disappointedly and says.
"It's oooookay.  I guess that I can always go and cure sick
people.  I'll go."  Go?  Who the fuck said anything about
going?

"Oh!  No....I mean.....don't do that......I never got the
chance to show you the warehouse.  I got a little office out
there too."  I kiss him.  "No windows."

                    -----------------------------

"Now listen to me!"  She grabs my arm.

"Mom, I am listening."  My god the woman has got a grip like
a vice!

"Eric, you're not listening and I need someone to know this.
When I'm dead nobody's gonna know how to make this sauce!
You think that your father cares?"

"Mom, you're not gonna die.  Well, I mean, everyone dies but
not for a long long long time."

She pointed her finger at me and wagged it back and forth.
"The key is the stock.  This is a true glaze.  I didn't just
boil some beef bones for an hour, this is an actual glaze
and it's the thing that gives the sauce its life."  She
actually thinks that I'm gonna make this?

"Twenty quarts of stock!  That's what you start with.  Start
with!  That's just to start!  You boil that down, slowly,
lovingly to maybe a quart then even more slowly to two
cups."  She puts her hands on her hips.  "Eric, are you
paying ANY attention at all?"

"Mom!  I'm listening to every word!"  A lie.  "I know that
this is important to you and it's important to me too."  A
lie.  "I wanna be able to pass this on to Jase."  A lie.

She gives me a doubtful look and then turns back to the
stove.  "Okay, the tomato is the dominant flavor but you add
one ladleful of the stock to the sauce. This big ladle not
the little ones."

She goes on.....endlessly.  What DO I want to pass on to
Jase?  I want him to be honest, with himself and with
others.  I want him to finish what he starts, to understand
that you can't be a quitter.  God, I want so much for
him........and he's gotta learn it from me.  Shit!  Like I'm
up to that job!  Well....there's Pete too, he oughta be
great at this.......and Jase actually listens to him.

Whack!!!  She's banging her ladle on the counter.  "Eric!!
You're not listening!"

"I heard it, Mom!  Stock!  You were talking about stock!"

She leans against the counter her shoulders slumped forward
and stares at me over her glasses.  "Five minutes ago it was
stock.  For the last two minutes it's been meatballs.  Will
you concentrate??"  She waves her hand at me and turns
disgustedly back to the counter.

"I use three kinds a meat in my meatballs, beef, veal and
pork....and they gotta be lean."

Now this is heresy!  "Mom, since when do you believe in
lean?"

"I don't believe in lean.....necessarily.  I do believe in
healthy and there's ways to make meatballs moist and still
healthy.  And....as it happens they taste better this way.
The trick is adding more of our stock to the ground meat."

Beyond mom and positioned so that she can't see him in the
family room is Jase.  He's sticking his tongue out at me,
and using his thumb and forefinger to make the loser sign.
Damn! I shoulda never taught him that!  I growl at him with
my eyes but he knows that I'm trapped and can't run after
him.  I make like a fake lunge in his direction but he just
laughs behind his hand.  I try everything, my disappointed
in him look, my angry look, my I'm gonna get you look, it
all means nothing, he just laughs more.  Little brat, I
wonder if it's too late to sell him.  No!  I'm kidding!
He's my whole fucking life, well a huge part of it anyway.

"Eric!" Mom is shaking her big spoon at me again.  "Quit
teasing Jason!"  Me???  Fucking teasing him??  "You
know...you're just like a little boy yourself, don't you
take anything seriously?"  Oh God!  Maybe she'll jamb that
big spoon right into my head.

                    -----------------------------------

I scoop Jase up on the run, he wasn't expecting it and he
squeals.  "So I'm a loser am I?" Mock severity.  He knows
better than to fall for this.  His body is sooooo skinny and
yet so vibrating with life.  He twists and turns until he's
right side up.  His arms are around my neck and he lets me
hold him with perfect trust.

"I didn't SAY that you were a loser, Dad."  Oh yeah!  He's
all innocence and endearing smiles now!

"Maybe you didn't say it but that's what you meant.  You
know, it's important to your grandmother that we be
interested in this stuff. Understand?"

"You know how to make meatballs, Dad?"

"Meatballs?  Ah......no.  With your grandma around I've
never had to."  I bury my nose in the crook of Jase's neck
and inhale.  Little kids always smell so great, not sexy
great or perfume great but puppy breath great.  I carry Jase
into the living room and plop down on the sofa with him
still in my arms.

"You know, at some point your grandma is gonna get it that
she's not really making any inroads with me and at that
point she's probably gonna drop me like a hot potato and
turn her attention to you."

"Whadya mean, Dad?"  Jase twists around and straddles my
waist.  His knee crushes my balls momentarily.  Geez I can
understand that little girls might not understand about
crushing their father's balls but it sure seems to me that a
little boy should understand it.

"Jaaaaaason!  Son, don't put you knee there."

He ignores my pain.  "Whadya mean when you say that about
grandma, Dad?"

"Actually........I'm not sure."  Great!  All fathers should
be confused!  I run my fingers through his hair and try to
get it into place.  Funny, I don't give a shit how I look
but I do care how he looks.  "It's just that at some point
she might figure she's got a better chance of teaching you
to cook and to generally be perfect in every way."

Jase puts his index finger into his mouth, chews on it for a
minute and glances around the room like he's trying to
figure something out.  What's he gonna do with that wet
finger?  Oh right, his dad's shirt!  Yuck!  "But, Dad, I'm
just little......I don't know how to cook."

"That's okay, Sweetheart, grandma will spend all the time
that she needs to spend making sure that you know everything
that there is to know about cooking......Italian cooking
anyway."  No......she wouldn't do that.  At least I don't
think so.   "Well, there may be a way out."  I touch the tip
of my finger to his nose.  "If she tries to teach you how to
cook ANYTHING, just tell her that you you'd be afraid that
if you learned to cook then you'd never get to see her
anymore."  I sighed.  "That won't stop her but it might slow
her down and make her think."

He looked a little worried.  I kissed his forehead.  "Don't
worry.  I won't let anything bad happen."  Yeah, right!
Like I can stop all the shit in life that is gonna come down
on his head one way or another.

                    ----------------------------------------
-

"So you met his mom."  There was more to Rose's statement
than just the statement.

"Yes, Rose and she's very nice and noooo she doesn't just
work with crazy people."  I know exactly what this woman is
thinking and it's never pretty.

"Sweetheart, I didn't say anything about crazy people.  Of
course........now that you mention it.......you are
practically a member of the family and Irene has gotta be
enthused about having such an unusual specimen so handy.
Maybe you'll even inspire a book or something.  How's about
"A Study of the Immature Male" that sounds like something
you could make a contribution to."  Damn this woman is a
bitch!

"Rose.....don't you have some elderly sick person that you
wanna fire before they have a chance to use that cheapass
insurance that you supply to your people?"

"Sweetheart, speaking of old sicko's, and please note the
plural, how are Jane and Charlie doing?   Did I tell you
that I saw them splitting a happy meal when I stopped in to
Micky D's for a cup of coffee?"

"No surprise, Rose!  You can practically smell the sex when
they look at each other."  I would have called it disgusting
but I was not exactly totally in the clear on this subject
myself.

"Well," Rose said, "I probably shouldn't make fun of them at
least they're getting some which is more than I can say for
myself."

Gee, maybe being like a zillion years old is cramping her
style.  "Rose, you oughta try that new truck stop out on
I94.    Sit on the hood of your car with a 12 pack of Miller
Light and a big bag of chips and ya just might pick yourself
up a social life, especially if you go in the evening when
the light is low."  I can be a bitch too.

                           ------------------------------

Pete's wet, I'm wet but Jase, finally, is clean and dry.
Jase's bathroom is littered with rubber animals for bath
taking.  We got ducks, we got dinosaurs, we got boa
constrictors, we got dogs.  I'm pulling his pajama bottoms
up and Pete is pulling his pajama top down and all the while
Jase is telling us about the little boy at his daycare that
puked in the wastebasket.  Jimmy, poor little guy, he's
probably the main topic of conversation at thirty homes all
over town.  It's weird and certainly unfair but kids can be
defined by incidents like that.  The name Jimmy the Puker
could, cruelly, follow him for the rest of his life.

"Jase, I hope that you don't call him that."

Jase puts his left foot on Pete's bent knee while he
straightens the pajama feet.  At the same time he's twisting
his head around to talk to me.

"I wouldn't do that, Dad."  He's shaking his head.  "That
wouldn't be nice and besides I like him."  He leans back
casually against Pete while I brush his barely dry hair.

I look up and smile at Pete and say to Jase.  "You look very
nice.  You goin to bed or....I look at my watch.  You got
like twenty minutes that you can still watch television."

He screams.  "TV, Dad!"  He pulls us both to the family room
and gets Pete and I to sit next each other while he climbs
up and sprawls over both of us.  I glance at Pete and notice
that he's got like this weird look on his face, like a
really emotional look but I can't for the life of me figure
out why.  He sees me looking and I lift one eyebrow in an
unspoken question.  He shakes his head which either means
that he doesn't want to talk about it, it isn't anything to
begin with, he doesn't want to talk about it in front of
Jase or god only know what the fuck else.

Finally Jase skips off to the safety of Alan's big green
paws and I turn to Pete.
"You okay?"