Date: Sat, 17 Dec 2005 23:29:57 -0500 From: Lawrence Prichard <OhioBear330@webtv.net> Subject: Tuesday Evening-Wednesday Morning 4 Disclaimer and all that. If you are under age to read male-male romance and sex, Begone (until you're of age.) Names, locations, and trademarks are fictitious, or used fictitiously. Reposting on any site other than Nifty.org is forbidden. Thank you to: RimPig, George Gardner, Tim Mead, and MickeyS. Copyright for all parts of Tuesday Evening-Wednesday Morning 2005 by Lawrence Prichard. ----- Wednesday morning, 11:30, early winter. Jerome's turn: I swear, there seems to be a perverse elf in clocks when you check them every 12.5 seconds. I am waiting for my Furball! That vindictive little shit in the clock sloooooows down time. It's been a busy, but not overwhelming, morning here at Something Beautiful Flowers and Gifts. Phone has been ringing with some of our regulars. We have 4 orders for altar flowers this week, which is average. United Methodist, United Church of Christ, Unitarian-Universalist(rare), and the Presbyterians. I like doing these arrangements. Some of our "more particular" customers have ordered their Christmas centerpieces, even though Christmas is over two weeks away. I am amused, yet thankful, we can schedule better with this sort of notice. Where's Denys? That bagel was almost three hours ago! Maria has been on the floor, dusting. Not that anything really needs to be dusted, but she likes to play with the Orrefors Crystal display. Why Orrefors? I'd be lying if I would say that their logo of an Otter has nothing to do with us carrying them. Bobby is out running a few deliveries, Silver Lake (here in Ohio, it's two words!), Hudson, and Kent. Phone rings. "Good Morning, Something Beautiful Flowers and Gifts." "Hi, Furball!" It's my Denys. "Hi yourself." "Busy morning?" "Semi-busy, nothing outrageous." "Tell Maria and Bobby that I'm bringing lunch?" "Yes, and they are pleased. When the heck are you getting here? I'm starved!" "Heh. You are such a teenager, Jerome. I just packed the carrier, I'll be there soon." "Get here!" "On my way, muffin." Muffin, is Denys-speak for "studmuffin." Soon enough, he's here, and unpacking lunch in our break room. It's a small, yet real, eat-in kitchen, with stove, sink, refrigerator, and dishwasher. When we have Open House and special events, we're glad to have the full kitchen. Denys's chicken salad is very good. He roasts the chicken, and today put in onion, celery, pineapple, fresh dill weed, and just enough mayonnaise. Sometimes he'll use sun-dried tomatoes, and use the oil from the jar for the dressing. Bobby is back from the deliveries, and sneaks up on Denys. I see Bobby kiss Denys on the neck. Denys drops the plate of rolls from Great Harvest Bread he was holding. "Well, Bobby, is that a roll of quarters, or are you glad to see me?" Bobby does have a tent in his pants for my guy. As I have said, I don't mind. Much. "Denys, Denys, Denys. It's just a matter of time." Bobby says that with a smile that's just a little premeditated. Bobby seems utterly convinced that he and Denys will have sex sometime. Denys blushes and says "So, how's Frank?" Frank is Bobby's roommate. We are not at all sure as to the state of their relationship, if any. Frank is older, a teacher, and (to Denys's and my eyes,) totally vanilla. Bobby didn't know that Denys was coming with lunch, but he wore a pair of boots of a style Denys finds hard to resist...sharp toe black cowboy boots. I see Denys steal microglances at them. "Champion Attitude, 12 inch shaft, new," Bobby says. "Ehhh, ummm, they're very nice, Bobby. Very nice." Denys is blushing. Bobby seems to take pity on Denys and changes the subject. "Have you heard k.d. lang's, "Hymns Of The 49th Parallel?" Denys and Bobby are both big music fans. It's one of their interests that doesn't freak me out. "No, I haven't. Is it good?" "Denys, this is as good as "Absolute Torch and Twang, but it's not country, it's songs by Canadian songwriters. Her take of "After The Gold Rush" is utterly astonishing." "Thanks, Bobby, I'm going to the library later today, and I'll see if I can grab it." Bobby, Denys and I have lunch, while Maria is in the shop. We chat about nothing much. It's a good time. Maria comes in, and Bobby goes out. She and Denys cackle like starlings glad to see each other, even though they get together at least twice a week, and it is a rare waking hour when they don't email each other. "Oooh! Chicken salad. Been a while." "Thought you'd like it, dearie. How's David?" David is Maria's latest, and maybe it might take this time. David is a professor of graphics, and a part time skydiving instructor. Maria met him diving, because he had joined the faculty after she had graduated. "He's fine, Bubbles, thanks for asking." "Bubbles" is Maria's pet name for Denys. When they met, Denys was drinking a lot of expensive champagne. When he wasn't drinking champagne, it was Perrier water. "In fact, David still wants to take you both diving." "That will be a hot, hot day in January, Mare." "Awww, come on Denys. Let's go diving with David." "You go diving, and I'll stay home and collect the insurance, Furball." By this time, it's my turn to go out on the floor, and Bobby comes back into the kitchen and starts to load the dishwasher. "Thanks, Bobby." "No biggie, Den." I look at Denys, and I can tell he's getting eager to get out of here. He loves the shop, but it's not a comfortable place for him. "Joanne, Steve, and Martin will be here soon, and you'll be out of here before 3, I promise." "Thanks, Furball." Wednesday afternoon Denys's turn: Lunch went well, I do love coming here, and seeing Maria and Bobby, and especially my Furball. However, it isn't easy to stay. I wish Jerome had more faith in his ability to buy for the store. To call Joanne "energetic" is like calling Niagara Falls "damp." She represents several independent jewelry artists in the area, and she's making a success of all of them. "Joanne!" "Denys! Good to see you. You look terrific. Is that a new sweater? You should always, always wear blue." If Joanne weren't a former model, I would take her fashion commentary with a grain of salt the size of a Buick. "So, what's new? Anything that will fly off the floor?" "Andra has an exciting new line of pins." She's right, they are very interesting, and delicate, and Andra took colour photos of illustrations from the 1930s and shrunk them, added some sequins, and fittings. I take all she has. The rest of the time we discuss earrings, and Sylvie has some new holiday ones. I take them all, as well. "Okay, Denys, you've cleaned me out!" I cut her a check, and she swoops me up in a hug, and I nearly choke from her combination of "Tendre Poison," her three scarves, and her energy. "See you in January!" "Happy holidays, Joanne." The visit with Steve is similar, though he brings us handmade, locally made baskets. Martin, however...is a potter. A very good potter. Today he astonishes me with his new line. He has made several teapots, in non-traditional style, and they are glazed in a way reminiscent of Keith Haring's graffiti art. "Are these a direct homage to Keith Haring?" "Yes, do you like them?" "No, not at all, Martin. I love them! How many of them do you have? Have you sold them to anyone else yet? How many do you have?" " I have a van-full. You guys are the first outlet to see them." "Duplicates?" "Limited editions, no more than 5 each, each is marked." "JEROME!" "What is it, guy?" "What do you think of these?" "Martin, they are wonderful!" "Martin, Jerome and I want to have an exclusive on this line. Exclusive. Jerome, could we give Martin an opening next Saturday evening?" "Sure, Denys. I think that would be a great idea!" "Maria! Please come." "What is it, Bubbles?" "We need you to get into p-r mode. We're holding an opening for this new line of Martin's." "Oh, Martin. What do you call them?" "I've been thinking of calling them Manhattan Tease--t-e-a-s-e." "Oh, that is good, Martin." Soon, Maria has the digicam out, and she's snapping pictures of Martin, and the sample pots he has today. It's going to be something. I look at my watch, and at Maria and Jerome. It's 2:50. Jerome looks at me, and says, "Leave it to us, and get out of here." "Okay, Martin, either write an artist's statement, or tell Maria what you want instead." I gather the carrier, and hug Maria, Martin, and in front of them sweep Jerome up in a grandly overblown kiss and grope. What can I say? We're two bears in love. ---------- Feedback welcome OhioBear330@webtv.net