Date: Thu, 30 May 2013 16:59:59 -0700 (PDT) From: Jerlar Subject: Porterville 9 This story contains graphic sexual scenes between males. If material of this nature offends you then you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age in most states you are not allowed to read this story by law. This story is purely a work of fiction. Any resemblance to person's living or dead, or to events that may have occurred, is purely coincidental. The author claims all copyrights to this story and no duplication or publication of this story is allowed, except by the web sites to which it has been posted, without the consent of the author. All of us enjoy the stories here, so please, support Nifty. Like any other Business, it takes resources to keep it running. I appreciate you, and I know Nifty appreciates your support! Mark Stevens CHAPTER NINE Sunday morning Britt and his mother picked Devon up on the way to church. He had been watching for them, and as Britt pulled up, he ran out the door. They were in Catherine Williams' car, as Britt's was way too small for a third passenger in the back seat. "Good morning," he greeted. "Good morning, Devon," Catherine greeted him warmly. "We're so glad to have you come with us today." "Yeah, so glad," Britt repeated sweetly. "Hey, You, how's it going?" "Everything's fine," Britt answered. "Nothing new to report." Next Britt drove them to the church where just yesterday he had attended Margaret Cooper's funeral service. They walked inside and chose the same pew where they had sat the day before. Several people came up and greeted them, telling Catherine they were sure she was enjoying having "her boy" back home. And of course, everyone knew Devon, and greeted him by name. Larry Owens came up and greeted them all. "It's so good to have you guys today. Especially you, Mr. Williams," he added. "Your mother is one of our very faithful members." "I can't remember when she didn't attend here," Britt answered with a smile. "I'm sure your mother and father will be glad you are here today, Devon," Larry said, shaking his hand. "I'm sure they will," was Devon's comment. As if on cue, John and Elaine McKenzie chose that particular moment to arrive. They walked down the isle, and stopped at the end of the pew. A smile of sorts was on Elaine's face as she spoke. "Good morning, Devon. You are welcome to sit with us." To Britt's ears, the words sounded more like a command, rather than an invitation. He felt somewhat of a victory inside when he heard Devon reply, "Thank you, Mom, but Mrs. Williams and her son have invited me today to sit with them. Thanks for the invitation, however." "As you wish," Elaine answered, a cold tone sounding in her voice almost immediately. John McKenzie never said a word, and followed his wife to the same pew where they had sat during Margaret Cooper's service. Catherine Williams reached across her son and laid a hand on Devon's shoulder. "Devon, maybe you should go over there. After all, they are your parents, your family." Devon shook his head. "It's okay, Mrs. Williams, it really is. It's time I start making decisions for myself. Besides, I want to be here." He smiled at both Catherine and her son. "I am where I want and need to be," he finished. Catherine returned to her place, and didn't say another word. The service started then, so nothing more was said until afterward. Britt and Devon followed Catherine up the isle, and they greeted Larry Owens. "I always enjoy your sermons so much, Larry," she said with a smile. She shook his hand. "Catherine, you're charming as ever," he said returning her shake. "It's always such a pleasure visiting with you." He turned to Britt. "It was a pleasure having you in the service this morning, Mr. Williams. Are you going to be home long?" "Thank you," Britt said, also giving the man a handshake. "I'm not sure how long I'm going to be here. It's been a long time since I've been home, and to be quite truthful, I am enjoying spending this time with my mother." "Well, I know the feeling is mutual. She often speaks of "her son, the writer". "Well, I'm sure you know how moms are," Britt smiled. "And, please, call me `Britt'. I feel as if you should be speaking to my father when you say `Mr.'" "Very well, Britt. Enjoy your stay while you are home." As they were walking down the sidewalk, a voice called from behind, saying, "Devon, do you have plans for lunch? We would enjoy having you home." Devon turned to discover his mother and father practically on them. "Thanks," he smiled, "but I already have an invitation for lunch. Perhaps next time?" he suggested. "Of course, whatever you say," his mother answered. Once more, the cold had crept back into her voice. It amazed Britt that she could turn so quickly from a warm, almost caring type of person, to a very cold cruel human being. "Goodbye, Devon," John McKenzie said, and the two walked on to their car. No other words were spoken. "Devon, if you want to spend time with them, and try and work some things out, we certainly understand," Catherine Williams told him gently. "Yes, we do," Britt said, although his heart wasn't exactly into the words he was saying. "Thanks again, but like I told you inside the church, my day, my plans are with you guys. There is only one reason why they asked me to lunch. Well, actually two reasons," he corrected himself. Over their meal the three of them had a very enjoyable time. It had been a rough twenty-four hours for Catherine Williams, and both Britt and Devon did their best to cheer her up. After lunch the three went back to her home and spent the entire afternoon with her, looking at old pictures and listening to her stories of when Britt was little, and all the "cute" things he did. At one point Devon said, "Britt, you are so lucky. I hope you realize that." "Why is that?" "To have such a warm family history as this. I would give anything in the world to have stories told about me the way your mother tells about you." Catherine Williams looked at him sharply. "Come now, Devon, I am sure you had an excellent childhood. Your mother saw to that, I am certain." "If you mean did I have anything I wanted, even more than I needed, you are right. But never once did I ever feel a warm arm wrapped around me. And the love I was shown was never anything but conditional love. As long as I went along with her, was not in her way while growing up, yet, when becoming an adult, saw things the same way she did... Yes, if I did that, there was love. When I see you looking at Britt, I see such a love in your eyes for him. The type of love that only a mother could feel, I think. I have never in my life seen that in my mother." "Well, I'll share mine with you," Britt said, his eyes sparkling. "She has enough trying to keep you in line," Devon teased back. "Excuse me, but I do think I can speak for myself here, gentlemen," Catherine said. "Devon, you are always welcomed here at my home. Our home," she corrected herself, looking at Britt. "However, I never want your mother thinking I am trying to step in on her territory. I would never do that, and further more, she would never allow that to happen." They spent most of the afternoon in Catherine Williams' home, the three of them just enjoying their together. Catherine seemed much more cheerful, due largely to Britt and Devon spending time with her. By six o'clock she was her usual pert and happy self, so Britt suggested he and Devon go for a drive. "Is that all right, Mom?" he asked. "Of course it is," she assured him. "Besides, I have some things to do this evening." "Busy, are we?" "Yes, I am, Britt Williams. Besides, I start my week off again in the morning with a bang. I have to be at the Center by nine o'clock. If I'm late, my coworkers would never let me hear the end of it." As they were leaving, Devon gave Catherine a warm hug. "Thank you so much for sharing your day with me. I have enjoyed it very much." She returned his hug and said, "Devon McKenzie, you are welcomed here any time. You don't need to wait for an invitation from either Britt or myself. Do you undersand?" "Very much," he grinned. "Goodbye." "Mom, I'll see you later. If you need me, you have my cell number." "Go on, get out of here, you two," she told them. "I will be fine. If I get all my chores done, I even have a good book to read." "Do I know the author?" Britt asked, his eyes twinkling. "Come to think of it, I think you do. I have been so busy I just haven't had time to read your last book. To be honest with you," she added, "I have been putting it off trying to make it last until the next one comes out." "I'm working on it," he told her. "I shouldn't be too late." "Have a good time, guys," she said, giving them both a warm smile. In the car, Devon said, "I just love your mom, Britt. You are so lucky having such a warm and caring mother." "Like I told you, I'll share her with you. When I do have to go back to the city, I will be glad you will be here to look in on her. Of course, I will most likely be coming in every weekend," he finished. "You better," Devon declared. "Well, like I told you, once I get facts on anything I write, I can put them into the form of a plot any place. It doesn't matter where I am." "Good," Devon said. "I've already been rearranging in my mind the office I have in the apartment so as to accommodate the both of us." "Good, I like that." They spent the evening together at Devon's apartment. They ordered pizza in and kicked back enjoying the food, some cold beer and especially the company. It was a quiet evening all in all, and before it ended, they had made love two times. It was the type of evening that neither one wanted to end, but Britt felt he needed to return home. "Please don't think I'm putting you off, Devon. I do want to spend the night with you. God, you've got to know how much I want that. However, with all that has happened at Mom's the past day or so, I feel I need to be there. When things settle down, you can count on it. I'll be here with bells on." "And nothing more?" Devon's eyes twinkled as he spoke the words. "You can count on that too," Britt grinned. "Well, at least from the moment I enter your apartment," he added. Neither Britt nor Devon wanted the evening to end, and Britt ended up staying another hour, as they sat on Devon's couch talking quietly and holding hands. It was very peaceful, and neither of them wanted it to end. Finally as the clock in Devon's living room struck one o'clock, Britt stood to his feet, declaring he had to leave. He had several things to do the following day, and Devon needed to work at the plant. As Britt was telling Devon goodbye at the door, they were startled when Devon's cell phone rang. "It's my mother," Devon said picking up the phone. Britt listened as Devon greeted his mother. "My God," Devon said. "What happened?" Britt's heart suddenly did a flip flop. He knew that in the town of Porterville, if a telephone rang late at night, it usually meant something was wrong. He heard Devon say, "All right, I'll be right there." "What's wrong?" Britt asked. Devon's face looked as if all the blood had drained from his it. "My father has died."