He headed downstairs, and toward the kitchen where delicious smells were coming from. "Hi."
Corrine looked up from the cook top. "Good morning, Dr. Malucci. Please sit down and enjoy some juice while I finish up with the French toast." Corrine gestured toward the table that was already set, complete with juice glasses and two pitchers of juice -- one orange and the other one dark in color. "We have orange juice and cranberry-grape juice. Help yourself."
Dave helped himself to a glass of the cranberry juice -- he didn't usually buy this kind. The French toast smelt wonderful -- far better than the burnt fragments that were here a week ago. The smell made Dave's stomach growl, he grinned at Corrine. "Didn't have much dinner last night."
"Beer is never a good substitute for a decent meal, Dr. Malucci." Corrine said as she slid two pieces of toast onto a platter with four others. She brought the platter to the table. "Would you like powdered sugar or syrup to put on your French toast?" she asked.
While Dave was eating in gold-brick mansion he figured he might as well enjoy the experience. He grinned up at Corrine, "What kinds of syrup do ya have?"
Corrine smiled, "Just about any kind you might want, Dr. Malucci. Maple, blueberry, boysenberry and a few odd imports. If you have something special in mind I can look to see if we have it. Dr. John likes to mix several different kinds together. He says that he gets a far more unique taste that way."
Dave grinned as the syrups were listed -- he was about to ask for them all, when she added that rider about Carter. After a moment's thought Dave couldn't see any reason to let that sway him though. "All of 'em?" He stood up, with some vague feeling that in fancy places you shouldn't let women do all the work. "Where are they?"
"Oh, you just sit right back down, Dr. Malucci. You're our guest this morning. I'll get them." Corrine went to the pantry and returned with a tray loaded with syrup bottles. She set it on the table. "Take your pick, sir. Do you know if Dr. John will be down soon? I was so hoping that he would sit down to have breakfast with you since he hasn't been eating too much this week. At least not here."
Dave looked away from Corinne, and concentrated on the bottles on the tray. He started off with a bottle of plain pure maple syrup, and poured a generous amount over his first piece of toast. "Ah, think he's still shaving." Dave picked up his fork and began to dig into the sweetened toast.
Corrine shook her head. "He'll come in here and announce that there's no time for him to eat. You watch and see if I'm not telling the truth on that."
"Telling the truth on what?" John asked as he walked into the kitchen.
Dave looked up at Carter then immediately looked back at breakfast. He looked wonderful -- as sexy as ever. Dave immediately chased that thought away from his head. "Breakfast. Corinne makes great French toast. Eat some." Dave finished his first slice and carefully surveyed the tray full of syrups before choosing a bottle of raspberry.
John checked his watch. "I'm not sure that there's enough time to eat. Not if you want to change your clothes before going to work."
Corrine smiled at Dave. "I told you," she said.
John looked from Corrine's smiling face to where Dave sat eating. "What? What did she say?"
Dave shrugged. "These clothes did fine yesterday." He wasn't about to leave great food just for clean clothes -- and besides Corinne was right -- Carter *should* eat, and so should he. Dave poured the raspberry syrup over his toast, and ignored Carter's question. Now that Carter was trying to make him leave he resented it a little -- it was quite different when he, himself, was the one deciding to leave. "This is great Corinne. How d'ya make it?"
Corrine grinned as she walked over to the counter. "Thank you, Dr. Malucci. It's nothing special...just a little bit of this and little bit of that. I don't use precise measurements. Perhaps one morning I can show you?"
John sat down across from Dave and poured a glass of orange juice. "Is there any coffee ma..." Corrine sat a cup of coffee down in front of him. "Thank you." John grinned up at her. He looked over at Dave. "Corrine's a great cook and Gamma's very lucky to have her here. We're all lucky."
The raspberry syrup was good, but not as good as the maple. Dave grinned at Corinne; "Dunno about showing me maybe ya could show Carter."
John frowned as he took a long sip of his coffee. He didn't like it that Dave was making fun of him in front of Corrine. It just wasn't right.
Corrine laughed. "Don't think that we haven't tried to teach Dr. John how to cook. Isn't that right, Dr. John?" she asked. Not really expecting a response, she continued. "I remember trying to teach Masters John and Chase how to bake brownies years ago. You could barely see through here because of the smoke. They had turned the oven on too high and left the brownies in too long. I think they quite forgot about them."
"I don't remember that," John mumbled. It was a lie. He *did* remember it. He remembered it all too well, as he had been sure that they had set the house on fire and while he stood there in the smoke filled kitchen, shocked over what they had done, Chase had run outside and grabbed the water hose to put out the fire. Luckily, Corrine had entered the kitchen right then, stopping Chase from doing something that disastrous. But her cookie sheet had been ruined. Just like her frying pan was later ruined.
"You were only about ten or eleven at the time. I remember you being quite upset as you thought you had set the house on fire. You vowed that day that you would never again try to cook." Corrine's grin faded and she looked thoughtful. "I wonder if that's why you don't like to even try?"
Dave listened, imagining the mess and the frantic efforts to get it under control before the grown-ups came back, then shrugged. "Bet ya got a hiding and a half for that." He pulled the platter toward him and scooped a third piece of toast off it, before pouring maple syrup over it. Not that the raspberry hadn't been good -- but the maple had been excellent.
"No," John softly replied. "I didn't." He finished the coffee, then started on the juice, what little appetite he had started to get when he had entered the kitchen was long gone now that Dave and Corrine were picking on him. He couldn't think of a worse way to start out a morning than to be ganged up on.
Then the morning got worse when he heard a heavier footstep than his Gamma's in the hallway and he looked up as his grandfather entered the kitchen, casually dressed for his day.
"Good morning, all," Jonathan Carter said as he sat down in the seat between John and Dave. "I don't believe we've met. I'm Jonathan Carter." He extended his hand toward Dave while Corrine poured his coffee.
Dave held out a slightly sticky hand toward Carter's grandfather, and shook the proffered hand. The man's grip was hard and strong, and he looked overpowering. But Dave wasn't one to let himself be overpowered. "Dave Malucci. I work with Carter -- John."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Dr Maclucci. At least I assume that you're a doctor and not a male nurse?" Jonathan nodded his thanks to Corrine as she put a cup of coffee in front of him. "Did you want any coffee?" he asked Dave as he noticed that there wasn't any in front of his plate.
The man had such immense presence that Corrine, and even Carter himself, seemed to dwindle into the distance. Candles compared to the sun. Dave roused himself out of his thrall slightly -- not willing to be subordinate to anyone. He gave his best egalitarian grin, "Doctor Dave -- and it's *Malucci* -- but not everyone can handle it. Dave's fine. Yep, Coffee. I could handle a cup."
John checked his watch again. "We really need to go. The traffic might be bad."
Jonathan looked at his grandson. "It's just after six on a Saturday morning, John. Just what kind of traffic are you expecting?"
"Thanks Corinne," Dave said as a hot cup of coffee was placed before him.
John shrugged. "You never know what the roads will be like. And Dave does need to be to work before seven. So we should leave now."
Dave looked regretfully down at the remaining French toast -- but there would be no fun in needling Carter in this man's presence. "Yeah, guess I should be off." He attacked the remains of his food vigorously.
"It was nice to meet you, Doctor Dave," Jonathan smiled. "Especially since this visit didn't result in any damage to my whirlpool. Not that the soap bubbles damaged it per se, but you do have to be careful what you put into the water." Jonathan cleared his throat and stared at his cup of coffee while he stirred sugar in it. Less than ten minutes ago Millicent had confirmed their suspicions about John and his 'friend', and while Jonathan really didn't *want* to think or talk about homosexual sex and all that it entailed, he did want to set down a few guide rules. "I do want it understood that while I realize the two of you are grown men, I will not have you sleeping together under this roof while anyone else is here. What you do when the house is vacant can be left to your best judgment, but I will not have it while *anyone* else is here. I do assume that the two of you had the decency to keep to separate beds last night?"
John had been finishing his juice when his grandfather started to speak and he started to choke on the liquid, spattering it down his shirt. He grabbed his napkin and started to dab at the juice, his face red from embarrassment. How had they known? H ow long *had* they known? He wanted to crawl into a hole and die and found himself praying for the floor to open up and swallow him whole right then and there.
Dave shot upright spilling the untasted coffee over the table. He had to get away. He didn't know anything about Carter's family. And he didn't know how the guy could calmly sit at a breakfast table and talk about him sleeping with Carter, as if it were something ordinary or normal. Dave scrambled out of the kitchen to the cold air outside and around a corner of the house where he leaned against a wall, and took great, deep calming breaths.
"Mr. Carter," Corrine said, her voice stern. "That's hardly appropriate talk for the breakfast table."
"I just wanted to set down the rules now, while there's still time," Jonathan said as he tried to defend himself. He looked at John and saw how embarrassed his grandson was over what he had said. "I'm sorry I embarrassed you and your friend. Would you make my apologies to him? I really didn't mean to run him off that way. Your grandmother thinks he's a nice young man and she approves of him."
John got to his feet. "I'll apologize to him." As he left the house, his grandfather's words rang in his ears. They knew. They knew about him. God. He felt sick to his stomach. Where had Dave run off to this time? Running off through the snow again? John looked around, then spotted Dave at the corner of the house. "You ready to leave before anyone else in my family decides to drop more bombshells?
Dave didn't even try to meet Carter's eye. "Hell, yes. Could get a cab."
John shook his head. "And leave me alone to face the inquisition? I don't think so. I'm sure I can find something to do between now and noon. Come on." John headed for the garage.
Dave followed Carter to the garage, and hopped up into the Jeep, fixing his eyes firmly on the dashboard in front of him.
John got in and started the car. "I don't know where he got the idea that you and I...I swear, Dave, I never told them about being bisexual or about what happened last weekend. Why would he say that? Someone had to have said something to him." John then realized that he had not yet seen his Gamma that morning. Which meant she had to still be in her room. The place his grandfather had just left. Which meant that if he had suspected all of that, then so had she. "Oh, God." John rested his head on the steering wheel. "God, God, God. This is *not* happening."
"Damn right it's not happening." Dave took one eye off the dashboard for a second, and took a peek at Carter. "Drive."
John could feel the bile rising in his throat as he thought of his Gamma knowing that he wasn't completely heterosexual. He shook his head, then quickly opened the door and rushed outside, emptying his stomach of the coffee and juice. His Grandparents knew he liked guys. Corrine knew. She hadn't batted an eye when his Grandfather had said that. God. They all knew. He retched again, even though there was nothing left to come up.
Dave heard Carter puking and looked around, he leaned far over the driver's seat and reached out one tentative hand to pat Carter on the back, then pulled back as if scorched as soon as they touched. "Tell them you were drunk and it doesn't count."
"Which time? Each of them? Just you? God." Of all the times for them to let him know that they knew why did it have to be now? When he was trying to ignore the fact that he was in love with Dave? Then Dave's words sunk in a little bit further and John remembered how Dave had come onto him the night before -- when he was drunk. And that Dave had been drinking at the bar the previous weekend and then had beer once they reached the house. The sudden implication of what Dave had said hit John and it hurt to think that he had been nothing more than a drunken encounter for Dave. "Is that how it was for you, Dave? Since you were drunk when you were with me it doesn't count?"
Dave pulled himself upright. "It doesn't count if you're drunk." He repeated it again, more firmly. "It doesn't count if you're drunk."
"Thanks a Hell of a lot." John said bitterly as he wiped his face with the back of his hand. He needed to go back inside to brush his teeth, but he didn't want to go through the kitchen. And he didn't want to get back in the Jeep and face Dave, either, not now that he knew how Dave really felt about him. Not even casual sex. Nope. Just sex that didn't count. John reached into the Jeep and cut off the ignition, then pulled out the keys. "I'll be right back. I need to clean up a bit."
Dave couldn't just sit in the Jeep doing nothing. Just waiting for Carter to return, like...like he didn't know what...something passive.
He jumped out and began walking down the driveway. This wouldn't be like last weekend, he wouldn't go into the snow like last time. He'd get on the way to getting to work, and if Carter drove past, maybe he'd get a ride. A ride? Strike that. A lift. A lift was better -- though God knew Carter could lift enough on that redwood. Would drive him into town. That's it. Nothing sexual about that image. Just a bud driving his bud into town. Or walking.
Dave knew this driveway he'd walked down it last weekend. He'd walked these self-same twists and turns then. But he was dressed now, properly. That made all the difference -- and he wouldn't go into the snow. But the air was still crisp, and there was still the scent of pines in the air, and an occasional snowflake falling from the sky. It was the same but different, very different.
John made it through the front door and up the stairs and back again without being spotted. Good. Along the way he had thought about Dave. It hurt to know he was so easily dismissed as being nothing more than a drunk's play toy. But he had a chance now to become friends with Dave and he found that thought oddly comforting. John could ignore the feelings of love that he still felt for Dave -- that admission didn't change that any. If he ignored those feelings then they would eventually go away. Just keep from having any more sex with Dave and it would be even easier to make those feelings disappear. No physical intimacy, no becoming one with Dave in that way and he could find a way to unlove him. Simple.
What was so simple became very difficult when John returned to the garage and found the Jeep empty. Had Dave gone back into the house? John's eyes were drawn to the kitchen door -- should he go in there to see if Dave had gone back in? Maybe Dave had needed to go to the bathroom or something?
John didn't want to go back into that kitchen. Not now.
Damn.
Where *had* Dave gotten off to? John shook his head and then he noticed footprints in the fresh layer of snow that coated the driveway. Dave was on foot again? Hadn't he learned his lesson before about that? John buckled himself in, then started the Jeep and started off slowly down the drive, not sure if Dave was going to run away again or get into the car.
Damn.
Dave heard the Jeep approaching, and moved away from the centre of the road. He was cold -- but not cold like last weekend. The Jeep came slowly around a corner and Dave waited to see if it would stop when Carter saw him.
John sighed with relief when he saw Dave on the driveway. He slowed and came to a stop, then waited for Dave to get inside.
Dave opened the door, and looked at Carter, then jumped inside, and averted his eyes again. "You told them? Everything's okay now?"
"I didn't go near them. But don't worry, Dave. Everything's fine. I won't put you in another awkward position like that, okay? We're friends and that's it, right?" John put the Jeep into gear and started back toward the gate. He was feeling anxious about Dave's answer -- he did want to know that Dave thought they were friends.
Dave nodded. "Sure we're buds." That was the best thing that guys could be. "Had a beer last night. We're pals."
John nodded. "Right. Pals. But, Dave...I think we should stay away from the beers." If something *should* happen -- not that John wanted anything to happen, but if it did, then John didn't want Dave to be able to blame it on being drunk.
Dave frowned, not sure what that meant -- they'd gone drinking last night and hadn't ended up doing anything wrong. Maybe Carter didn't want to do anything wrong though -- that would make sense, he didn't want to either -- except sometimes he did want to. Dave shook his head, and said, "Nothin' wrong with a beer or two."
"There is when..never mind. I'm not really supposed to be having the first beer." John pulled out onto the road. "Some bullshit about the possibility of exchanging one addiction for another. Drugs for alcohol or something like that. Besides, a person *can* have fun without being drunk."
That was a good point -- no one wanted Carter actually taking more drugs. "One beer won't do any harm. Trick's stopping." Dave kept his eyes firmly on the road ahead of them.
John laughed. "Don't say that around an AA meeting. They'd string you up for sure. Too many of them have relapsed because they truly believed that 'one beer wouldn't do any harm'. Well, it did do them harm. Put them right back where they were before. So, no beer at the movies tonight." John was suddenly afraid that Dave would back out of going to the movies after what had happened in the kitchen. "That is, if we're still on for the movies?"
"Yeah, but they're alkies, you're a druggie. You don't get pills, they don't get a beer." Dave shrugged, willing to leave the beer discussion for later. "Sure movie tonight. Rocky Horror or something else?"
"I'll buy a paper this morning and see what's playing and let you know when I get in, okay?" They were about halfway to County. The roads were almost bare and John realized that his Grandfather's comments about the lack of traffic at this time of morning on a Saturday were correct. But then, his Grandfather was right about most things.
"Okay." For pals there was strangely little to say. Dave glanced at Carter, then looked away. It sounded like there would be no reason to get drunk tonight anyway -- but that was cool, it had to be.
The rest of the ride to County passed in a comfortable silence. John's mind was on going to the movies with Dave and being friends and only friends. No sex in the way. He had had male friends before. Dennis had been his friend. There had been an occasional thought or two crossing his mind about what Dennis would have been like in bed, but since they were friends, John never pursued that. And now he could be friends with Dave and not pursue sex either. Or rather, pursue any more sex.