This story may occasionally include explicit depictions of sexual acts between consenting adult males. If you are underage or it is illegal to view this for any reason, consider yourself warned. If you find this material offensive, please leave.
This story is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to people, living or dead, is entire a coincidence. As the author, I retain all rights to this story, and it cannot be reproduced or published without explicit consent from me. This work is copyright © 2015 by Steven Wells.
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Jeffery Comes Home
Chapter 01: It Happened One Christmas
I caught the 10 am flight from San Francisco airport to St. Louis two days before Christmas to visit my parents in Olney, IL. As an outreach minister for the United Church of Christ in San Francisco, I work a lot with the LGBT community in the Castro and The SF LGBT Center. After four years, I am pretty well burned out, so I took a month off to get away from the high stress environment that had consume the last four years of my life.
I am Reverend Jeffery LeBlanc. I grew up in a small town in Southern Illinois. I am an only child. My mom is a United Church of Christ minister in Olney, Illinois. My father teaches physics at the local community college.
I'm 30 years old, stand 6' 1" tall, and have a definite gym body. But, like I said earlier, I needed a break. After I grabbed the luggage I had checked in San Francisco from baggage claim, I headed outside to find my parents. They were waiting in their car just outside the baggage claim area.
My mother rushed to hug me, "It's so good to have you home, Jeffery! Especially at Christmas!"
"Thanks mom," I said to her as I threw my bag in the back seat. "You look terrific as usual!"
"Thank you, Jeffery," my mother said. "You always know the right things to say!"
My father came around to the passenger side of the car and pulled me into a big hug, "Your mother and I are delighted you decided to spend Christmas with us."
"Thanks, Dad," I answered. "It's good to be back."
"You look tired, Jeffery," my dad said. "Are you okay?"
"Yea, dad," I explained. "I'm fine. Just a little burnt out from the job. A month away from the non-stop problems I face every day will be a refreshing change."
As we were riding back to Olney, my mother explained the events of the next few days. "And, the highlight of Christmas, other than going to evening services on Christmas Eve, will be spending Christmas day at the Williamson's. I understand it will be some celebration. Sam's future in-laws will be joining us from Chicago."
"Sam is engaged?" I asked. "I thought he was gay!"
"Oh! He is, dear. He's engaged to this darling guy, Christopher Johnson," my mother explained. "Sam has turned into quite a remarkable young man. He and Christopher are working on a nonprofit organization to help homeless gay and lesbian youth in Chicago. I don't know many of the details, but I am certain the two of them will be delighted to fill you in on their progress."
"Wow! We could have used Sam and Christopher in San Francisco," I added to the conversation. "Homelessness, suicide, STD's, and drug use are our major problems—in that order—among the young LGBT community in San Francisco. I don't know where they are looking for funding, but those four issues are the ones most shunned by financial resources in San Francisco."
"So, have you thought any more about moving back to this area, Jeffery?" my father asked.
"I've thought about it," I answer. "But, I haven't seen many openings for a United Church of Christ minister in Southern Illinois. Especially for a single gay guy. More than that, I think some of my experience in San Francisco will be a detriment in my job search. But, I keep looking."
"Oh! And, did your mother tell you that the Williamson family sold the family farm to an organic farming conglomerate this fall," my father announced.
"No, she didn't," I respond. "I'll bet that was some really huge real estate transaction! Wasn't there over 5,000 acers to the farm?"
"Yes," my father said. "It was the talk of the town. Some people were not happy that they `sold out.' However, after the company took over and announce their plans, people were overjoyed. The company that bought the farm has added about 10 permanent jobs so far. Once they have some of the other operations going—like a milk processing plant on the farm—there will be several other jobs, something on the order of 100 people."
"That's pretty impressive," I respond to my father.
My parents continue to update me about local happenings as we drive back to their house in Olney. We finally arrived at my parent's home around 7 pm.
"Why don't you take you things to your room, Jeffery," my mother suggested. "Your father and I will fix dinner. You have plenty of time if you want to take a shower and get freshened up."
"Thanks, Mom," I answered as I headed to my room. "I think I may take a shower. It's been a long day after a late night last night!"
I headed upstairs. My room was originally considered the bonus room when my parents bought the house about 20 years ago. "Holy shit!" I said to myself as I opened the door to my room. Mom and Dad had totally renovated the upstairs space. New paint, new hardwood floors, a king sized bed, a sofa, a high definition television, a mini kitchen (sink, small fridge, microwave, coffee machine), and several stylish tables and chests. I opened the door to my bathroom to find it, too, had been totally gutted and replaced.
I immediately went downstairs to thank them before I took my shower. I began thanking them as I walked into the kitchen, "Thanks, mom and dad, the room is terrific! You two must have been working overtime to get it finished!"
"When you told us you were going to spend a month here, we decided to update your room to make it more comfortable and to give you some privacy," my mother announced.
"You also have your own wireless network up there," my father added. "Since our network down here didn't really work upstairs, we added a wireless router. The codes are in the desk drawer. There is also a wireless printer/scanner in the closet next to the desk."
I gave them both a hug before I went upstairs to take a shower. I put my clothes away in the closet. I stripped naked and started toward the bathroom. I caught a glimpse of myself in the full length mirror on the wall next to the closet. "Not bad," I said to myself. My brown hair needed a trim. The brown hair that covered my chest and stomach added to my body's attractiveness, but I noticed that my body was not as defined as it had been. Being on call 24/7 didn't leave much time for going to the gym. I would definitely fix that during the time I was off. My dick began to harden as I was examining myself. "Shit!" I said to myself, "I haven't even had time to jerk off. That has to stop, too!"
By the time I was in the shower, my dick was standing straight out. My seven inch cock needed attention, but that will need to wait until later.
After I had showered and dried myself, I selected a pair of low rise Calvin Cline briefs to go under a pair of chinos. I pulled on a long-sleeved crew neck shirt, slipped on my loafers, and headed downstairs.
Mom and Dad were sitting at the kitchen table sipping a glass of wine. White for my mother and red for my father.
"Could I get you something to drink, Jeffery?" my father asked.
"Yea! Vodka on the rocks with a splash of tonic. And, if you have any olives, that would be perfect," I answered.
"Coming right up," my father announced as I sat at the table next to my mother.
"You guys did a terrific job on the room upstairs," I began. "The shower is fantastic!"
"We thought it was about time we started redoing the house," my mother explained. "So, we thought we would start slow and do the upstairs. We will need to find a kitchen designer to help us update this room. But, the rest will be more cosmetic—except the bathrooms downstairs."
"And, the furniture?" I asked.
"I like the way your room turned out. It looks so sleek and modern," my mother began. "I'm thinking of throwing everything out and starting over. But, we will make that decision later!"
"Thanks, Dad!" I said as my father handed me my vodka on the rocks with a splash of tonic and three large olives. I took a sip. "This is perfect, Dad! If you ever decide to give up teaching, you could become a bartender!"
"I don't think that will happen," my father answered. "If I ever give up teaching, I'm going to write science fiction novels. I might even like to try my hand at designing video games! But, I don't plan on retiring any time soon."
"So, tell me about life in a small Southern Illinois town," I move the conversation to a different subject. "Any news or gossip I should be aware of?"
I slept in on Christmas Eve day. My mother was at work putting the finishing touches on the talk she would deliver tonight at the Christmas Eve services. My father was out delivering food and toys for families who had been `adopted' by members of my mother's church.
I didn't realize it as I was waking up, but I had been stroking my now hard dick. `I guess I am fucking horny,' I think to myself. I reach over to the night stand and grabbed the lube out of the drawer where I had placed it last night when I unpacked. I squirted a little on my hand, pulled back the covers, and started stroking my dick. With my free hand, I started to play with my nipples.
I started thinking about Jerome, my leather stud friend from the Castro. We played together from time to time. I enjoyed seeing him naked except for the leather harness and vest that he often wore when we had sex. He was a big man. He stood about 6' 6" tall and had a superbly muscled body with a huge chest, bulging biceps, and almost tree trunk legs. He had a dick that matched his body. He was about 10 inches of uncut, black cock! I almost came every time I saw his big dick hard.
As I was thinking about Jerome, my hand kept massaging my own 7 inch dick. It wasn't long before I was getting close. I kept pumping my dick with my hand, playing with my nipples, and thinking about Jerome. Finally, I was there. My dick began spewing cum all over my stomach, "Ahhh... ahhh... ahhh... ahhh... ahhh... ahhh...!"
I stayed on my back with my hand still wrapped around my dick as I caught my breath and my body returned to normal. Finally, I was able to move. I grabbed my Calvin Cline briefs from yesterday evening to mop things up before I headed to the shower.
Once I had dressed, I grabbed the keys to my mother's Chevy Cruze. My father had driven my mother to the church so she could wrap up loose ends for the service tonight. I headed to the local coffee shop to grab breakfast.
When I walked through the door of the coffee shop, I was immediately greeted by my high school friend, Mel. Her name was Melinda, but every one called her Mel. "Jeffery! It's so good to see you!" She pulled me in for a hug.
"Hi Mel," I said to her. "It's good to see you, too! How are things in the coffee business?"
"Well, Tim and I still enjoy the place," Mel answered. "But, we are never going to make millions from this place. You need to sell a lot of coffee just to pay the rent. Thank God Tim has a decent job."
"Life seems to be good for you," I suggest. "You look as good as ever!"
"Thanks, Jeffery," Mel explains. "There are reasons for loose fitting clothing. You on the other hand are as handsome as ever! No loose clothing for you!"
"Thanks, Mel," I said. I was blushing slightly. "So, what's new in town?"
"Nothing is new in town, Jeffery. You of all people should know that," Mel said with a smile. "Coffee? I'll sit with you for a few moments and we can catch up."
"Terrific!" I said to Mel. "I haven't had my caffeine fix yet this morning. I elected to sleep a little later than usual."
We both grabbed a mug of coffee and found a seat at a table near the window.
"So, who's doing what to whom?" I asked.
"Oh! Let's see," Mel thought for a few moments. "The Williamson family sold their farm to an organic farming company this fall."
"I heard that from my father," I said. "I guess Mr. and Mrs. Williamson will have some money so they can travel."
"I'm certain they can do a lot of traveling on $50 million," Mel added.
"Fifty million?" I asked incredulously.
"That's the rumor," Mel explained. "Mr. Williamson decided to go all out. He hired some high power attorney from Chicago to negotiate the deal. I guess it paid off!"
"What else is new?" I asked. "How are you and Tom and the kids doing?"
"We are good," Mel answered. "The boys are growing like weeds. They started second and third grades this year. They keep us busy and on our toes."
"How is your brother William?" I asked Mel.
"He is well," Mel said. "He is still in New York. Still trying to get his big break in theater. Still working as a waiter. Still single. Dad is still trying to convince him to come back to town and work in his insurance business. But, we all know William is, one, not coming back to Olney, and, two, not working in my father's insurance business. It's just NOT going to happen. How about you? How's San Francisco?"
"San Francisco is terrific," I tell her. "My job sucks. I love the people, but the things I see happening to them is totally unreal. One of my colleagues in the San Francisco LGBT Center likened our job to returning soldiers who develop PTSD. I have seen people who were abused physically and emotionally. I have seen people suffering from severe depression that very often leads to suicide. I have seen people who are chronically homeless because of disabilities or other mental health issues. I have seen people turn to drugs to ease their pain. Many are lucky and assimilate into the regular population. But, those are generally not the people with whom I am involved. One guy, a cop in the San Francisco Police Department, with whom I was beginning to form a relationship a few years ago, was shot to death by another cop when he tried to break up a fight with a police officer and a young, black, gay guy. And, the final straw was last month. One of my clients took his life because his parents kicked him out of their home because he was gay. So, I decided to take a month off and see where I want to go from here. You will be seeing a lot of me during the month of January, I think!"
"How can a parent just disown a child just because he or she is gay?" Mel asked.
"It happens more than it should," I explain to Mel. "As a matter of fact, Sam Williamson and his boyfriend has spearheaded an effort to form a non-profit organization in Chicago whose mission is to help homeless gay youth."
"Wow!" Mel exclaimed. "I haven't heard about that. But, I have to say that Sam's boyfriend is absolutely gorgeous! They stopped in here one day while they were visiting to Sam's parents! Some of the blue haired ladies were a little nervous when Sam and this 6 foot tall black hunk swoops in here to sit for a couple of hours and drink coffee and talk! It was actually sort of funny in a perverse way!"
"What do you know about Sam's boyfriend?" I ask Mel. "My parents and I are going to the Williamson's for dinner tomorrow afternoon. Sam's future in-laws from Chicago will also be there!"
"Not much other than he is cute as shit, kind, and a great conversationalist. I would like to be a fly on the wall for that gathering!" Mel suggested. "What's on your agenda for the rest of the day?"
"I need to get a haircut. I need to get a month long gym membership. I need to buy a few presents. Then, I'm done," I answer. "I'll let you go. It looks like you are getting busy!"
"Yea! I should attend to the masses," Mel answers. "Now, please promise me you won't be a stranger. And, if you want to talk about San Francisco, Tim and I are good listeners!"
She kissed me on the cheek and I left in search of a haircut and a gym membership.
When I returned home with a new haircut, a gym membership, and a few presents, I went to my room to get ready for tonight's church service. Fortunately, most people dressed casually for the Christmas Eve service. I pulled on a while turtle neck shirt and black slim fit slacks. I headed downstairs to find my parents sitting at the kitchen table sipping coffee and eating almond croissants.
"So, how was work and the deliveries?" I asked.
"I finally have my talk finished," my mother was first to explain. "After 20 years of doing this, you sort of run out of ammunition. So, I went back to the basics!"
"The deliveries are finished," my father answered. "It's good to see so many smiling faces, but, when you realize what hardships some of these families face, you thank the world that you have your health and a roof over your head! I'm sure you know what that's like better than I do, Jeffery."
"I do, indeed," I answer. "I'll tell you about some of the things I've seen later when you really want to be depressed. That's why I am home for a month!"
"I like your hair cut," my mother says as she changes the subject. "Where did you go for that?"
"I went to the guy who cuts your hair, Mom," I answered her. "Thomas does a great job! He must make a fortune here."
"He's the only game in town," my father interjects. "Unless, of course, you want to have your head shaved. Then, any of the others around town will do at a much cheaper price."
"You get what you pay for, Dad," I add.
"We need to be at the church in 30 minutes," my mother interjected. "I need to get into my costume!"
My mother added the last comment with a smile. When I was a kid, I called her robe a costume.
When we arrived at the church, my mother headed for her office to change. My father and I were in the back of the church. We were greeted by the choir director who happened to be the music teacher at our high school.
"Jeffery!" Gus began. "It's good to see you after all of these years!"
"It's good to see you again, Gus," I answered. "It's been a while!"
"Would you like to join us in the choir, Jeffery?" Gus asked me.
"No, I think I would like to be a spectator this time around," I told Gus.
"I understand," Gus agreed. "It will be our loss! But, you are on vacation!"
Church members began filing in for the service. I saw members of the Williamson family hanging their coats. I recognized Sam, "Sam!" I greeted him. "It's good to see you!"
"Jeffery!" Sam almost shouted. "It's been a long time! How's San Francisco?"
"I'll fill you in sometime when we have more time to talk," I answered. "It's good to be back. I needed a rest!"
"Jeffery," Sam said as he grabbed the hand of an extremely handsome man, "I'd like you to meet my boyfriend and future husband, Chris Johnson. Chris, this is our minister's son, Jeffery LeBlanc."
I was also introduced to Chris's mother and grandparents.
I also said hello to Sam's parents. "You're welcome to sit with us, Jeffery," Mrs. Williamson suggested. "I know your parents will be busy with the services today."
"I'd like that Mrs. Williamson," I told her.
I followed Sam and Chris to a pew and sat beside Sam. "Congratulations on your engagement, guys!" I said to Sam and Chris. "Have you set a date yet?"
"No," Sam answered and he took Chris's hand in his. "We haven't thought that far ahead. We just wanted to make it official."
"You're a lucky guy, Chris," I told Chris. "Sam is one of my mother's favorite parishioners. He taught me how to use my computer! I was a total bomb until Sam gave me a few lessons. He was 10 and I was 18, I think, at the time."
"I am lucky," Chris explained. "I didn't want him to get away, so I asked him to marry me. Call me self-centered, but I knew I wanted to be with him for the rest of my life."
The processional for the service started, and we all were paying close attention.
We arrived at the Williamson residence promptly at 12 noon. My mother is always prompt. I did not get that gene. I was informed that the gathering for Christmas Day was somewhat dressy, so I opted for a blue blazer, chinos, and a blue oxford shirt. I chose not to wear a tie. I hate ties.
Sam opened the door to greet us. "Merry Christmas and welcome to our home!"
"Merry Christmas to you as well, Sam," my mother added as she surveyed decorations in the entry hall. "Your mother has outdone herself this year, hasn't she?"
"Wait until you see the two other trees in the house, Reverend LeBlanc," Sam answered with a smile. "I think my mother has been planning this Christmas since last January. It keeps her out of trouble! Hello, Mr. LeBlanc, Jeffery."
"Hello, Sam," I replied. "It's been a long time since I was at your house. I've almost forgotten how stupendous it is!"
"Yea," Sam answered. "It has been in a constant state of renovation ever since I can remember. I think my mother and father have finally run out of rooms to renovate! Let me take your coats. Please join the others in the living room."
When we entered the living room, we were besieged with greetings from the Williamsons' family and friends. Some I remembered. Some I didn't. I worked my way through the crowd expressing my holiday wishes until I was close to the bar.
"What may I get you, sir?" the bow tied bartender asked.
"Scotch on the rocks, thank you," I answered.
The bartender fixed my drink and handed it to me, "Aren't you Suzanne LeBlanc's son, Jeffery?"
"Yes, I am," I said the bartender. "You look familiar, but I can't place your face with a name."
"I'm Bob Webber," the bartender said. "You and my brother Richard were in the same class together, I believe."
"Ah! Yes, of course!" I effuse. "I remember now. It's been too long since I have been around here. I get a little rusty."
"Not to worry," Bob said. "I see most of these people on a regular basis, and I forget who is whom from time to time. Merry Christmas!"
"Merry Christmas to you, Bob!" I reply. "Please give my regards to your brother Richard!"
"I will, indeed," Bob said as he busied himself with another guest.
I was standing near the tree admiring its enormity when Chris's grandmother approached me, "If that is a scotch on the rocks, you are a man after my heart. Merry Christmas Reverend." She raised her glass to clink mine.
"Merry Christmas to you Mrs. Washington," I answer. "And, yes, this is a scotch on the rocks. It helps to sooth the nerves!"
"I agree," Mrs. Washington added. "So, I understand from your delightful mother that you are working in San Francisco."
"Yes," I began to explain. "I am an outreach minister for a United Church of Christ in the Castro district. Sometimes I feel more like a social worker than a minister, however. I understand from Sam and Chris that you teach at Northwestern."
"This may be my last year," Mrs. Washington explained. "I think it's time to make way for someone younger. I've been at this for way too long! But, I love the students."
"I know the feeling," I explain. "I like working with the people that I serve. But, when something goes wrong in their lives—as it often does—it tends to break my heart. I get a little too attached at times. That's why I'm so impressed with the wonderful work Chris and Sam are doing to help gay homeless youth in Chicago. That is no small accomplishment. You must be very proud of them!"
"All of us are a little in awe of what those two delightful young men have accomplished, not only with Home Front, but also with their love for one another," Mrs. Washington said.
We were informed that dinner would be served on the third floor. Sam and Chris led me up to the third floor via the stairway. Some elected to take the elevator.
"I saw that you and my grandmother were chatting earlier," Chris said to me on our way up.
"Yes," I answered. "She is a very pleasant lady! And, I think, maybe just a little feisty?"
"That is an understatement, Jeffery," Chris confirmed with a smile. "Don't cross her and you will have a friend for life!"
All of the 30 plus guests were seated at the dining room table on the third floor. Place cards were at each place setting so that we were seated in strategically diverse groups. Sam's parents were at either end of the table. Chris's mother was seated at Sam's father's end and his grandparents at his mother's end. Chris and Sam were almost dead center in the middle. Sam and Chris's cute Border Collie puppies, Lincoln and Roosevelt, took their place under the table at our feet. I was seated next to the GM of the former Williamson family farm, Phillip Harris. `He's cute as shit,' I thought to myself.
Sam's father stood and welcomed everyone, "Elaine and I are elated you could join us in this celebration of Christmas. We especially want to welcome the newest members of our family, Chris Johnson, Gloria Johnson, and Thomas and Elaine Washington. I am sure most of you know by now that our son, Sam, is engaged to Chris. Now, I am not one for long-winded speeches, so," he raised his glass of champagne, "Merry Christmas from our family to yours!"
We clicked glasses with those around us. My father continued, "We have also asked our minister, Suzanne LeBlanc, to say a few words and offer the blessing."
My mother stood, "Thank you for having us in your beautiful home for this lovely and holy celebration! We are grateful, too, for your generous and welcoming hospitality. And, I want to add a note here before we have our blessing. The Williamson family tradition of community involvement is indeed alive and well in the next generation of Williamsons. I understand from Dr. Washington that Sam has been instrumental in providing support to an underserved population—gay, lesbian, and transgendered homeless youth in Chicago. I am certain you will want to speak with Sam about this initiative and to commend him for his participation. Now, the blessing..."
Once the blessing was finished, we started the feast! The caterers had set up two buffet lines to facilitate the crowd of holiday visitors. As we returned from filling our plate, I began asking Sam questions about the homeless youth project.
"You sound like you have been busy this semester," I began. "Not only have you managed to get through the first semester of school, you met a man with whom you want to spend the rest of your life, and you've taken on a very serious and urgent cause. What do you do in your spare time?"
"What is spare time...? The easiest part was meeting Chris," Sam answered with a smile directed at his man. "We met by chance at the student union in school. And, things just fell into place for both of us. Right Chris?"
"Yup!" Chris answered. "After a few dates, I thought he was the one. After a few more dates, I knew he was the one. The rest is kind of history."
"What about this homeless thing?" Phillip asked. "How did that come about?"
"I read an article in the Chicago Tribune written by Mary Schmeck about a 15-year-old gay homeless boy who was murdered in Lincoln Park," I explained. "It made me mad. So, I got involved. The next thing I know, we created and found funding for a nonprofit entity with its mission to end—or at least ease—problems gay homeless youth encounter on a daily basis. Of course, Chris supported my efforts at every turn. It is actually something he and I did together."
Sam's aunt Cecilia, who was sitting beside Phillip, asked the next question, "How do young gay people become homeless? There can't be all that many I would hope!"
Sam started rattling off the statistics he had discovered. Finally, he summed up by saying, "Most gay homeless youth have been kicked out of their parents' home when a parent learns their child is gay."
"I can't imagine a parent kicking out a child just because the kid is gay!" Aunt Cecilia added.
"Trust me," Chris answered. "I know from experience that it does happen... more than you might expect!"
"You know from experience?" Phillip asked as he turned his attention to Chris.
"Yea!" Chris began. "My father found out I was gay during my sophomore year in high school. He sent me to live with my grandparents in Chicago after the school year was complete. If I didn't have my grandparents, I, too, could have been homeless!"
"So," I asked, "where did you find the funding for this? I expect that wasn't an easy accomplishment!"
"We know someone involved in a philanthropic foundation in Chicago," Sam answered. "So, we were fortunate in that respect! We are looking for an executive director."
"What you're doing, Sam and Chris, is remarkable!" I added. "I am currently working as an outreach pastor. I work with the LGBT community in the Castro. It can be a burn out job. That's why I am looking to find a church somewhere in a community like this."
Sam's aunt Cecelia made a suggestion, "Why don't you apply for the youth minister position at our church?"
"That would be great," Jeffery explained. "But, I don't think my mother and I should work together at one church."
"Why not?" Cecelia asked. "There are husband and wife teams working at the same church. Why not mother and son?"
"I'll talk to my mom," I said. "But, I think she feels the same way!"
"And," Phillip asked. "Why would you want to leave San Francisco for Olney, Illinois?"
"Let's just say that there isn't much that I haven't seen," I explained. "Some things no one should see. I need a change of pace or I think I will go mad!"
"I think I would go mad here," Sam added with a smile.
"And," Cecelia added. "You could meet a nice country girl and settle down!"
"It would be a `nice country boy,' Cecelia," I answered. I smiled at Sam.
"Oh!" Cecelia responded. "I'm certain you could find a nice country boy then if that is what you want to find. And, if you don't mind me being a busybody, you could start by getting to know this handsome man sitting beside you!"
Sam looked at Chris and smiled. Phillip's face reddened. I looked at Phillip and smiled.
"I think I need to find the restroom," I said as I stood.
I returned from my bathroom break and took my seat next to Phillip.
"So, Phillip," Sam began. "Where are you from originally?"
"Iowa," he answered. "I grew up in a farm near Ames."
"Do you have siblings?" Chris asked.
"Yup!" Phillip continued. "I have two brothers who are twins. And, I have one sister. All are younger than me. My sister is married with one kid and another one is on the way. None of us have figured out my brothers' story. They just graduated from college last year. So, they have time to decide where they are going with life!"
"Interesting," Sam added. "We have a friend from a small town near Ames, Iowa. His name is Glen Allan. His father is a Baptist minister."
"Ah!" Phillip explained. "I think I've heard of a Reverend Allan at a Baptist church in my hometown. We jokingly refer to it as the nutcase church."
"That must be the one!" Chris commented. "Glen's father is trying to get out of the nutcase church. It apparently drives him nuts!"
I saw Cecilia talking with my mother. Finally, Sam's grandmother made her way over to where we were sitting. She sat at Cecilia's place at the table.
She first addressed Chris, "Chris, I have been talking with your grandparents during dinner. They are such lovely people!"
"They can be very charming," Chris answered.
"And, I haven't seen those two cute puppies since we started dinner," Sam's grandmother stated.
"Oh! They are here," Chris answered as he and I reached under the table and picked up Lincoln and Roosevelt. "They have been resting. I think they were worn out by all of the attention earlier."
"Now, Jeffery," Sam's grandmother began. "I was talking with your mother and Cecelia a few moments ago. And, I understand you want to take a respite from San Francisco and relocate to a more rural area."
"That's true," I agreed.
"Well, in case you don't know, I am the co-chairperson of the search committee to find a suitable youth minister," Sam's grandmother explained. "And, both of my daughters and Sam's father are also on the committee. So, the family has sort of a monopoly of power as we choose a person to serve as youth minister. Naturally, the candidates would need to be approved by the entire board of directors. Why don't you apply, Jeffery?"
"As I was explaining to Cecelia, I'm not certain it would be wise if my mother and I work together," I advised.
"I couldn't disagree with you more," Sam's grandmother answered. "You wouldn't be working for your mother, but with her. You would both take your marching orders from the executive committee."
"As I said, I will talk with my mother before I head back to San Francisco," I explained.
"If you will excuse us" Chris began to explain to the guests remaining at the table, "Lincoln and Roosevelt probably need to be walked, don't you think, Sam?"
"Probably," Sam answered. "Would anyone care to join us?"
"I would love to join you, but I need to be heading back to the farm," Phillip answered.
"And," I added, "I think my parents are planning to leave shortly. Another time, perhaps?"
"Sure," Sam answered as they left to get coats, leashes, and whatever else you need to walk a dog.
Phillip stood and said good bye the people still at the table and the hosts. When he returned, I decided to go for broke, "Why don't I walk you out? I could use some fresh air!"
"Sure," Phillip answered with a huge grin on his face.
To be continued...
I hope you liked the direction that `Jeffrey Comes Home' is taking. I would enjoy hearing your comments about this story. You can write to me at MaWriterBoy@yahoo.com.
This is my first posting of my fourth story on Nifty.org.
I also have three other stories on Nifty:
Sam and Chris in the `College' section
John's Journey Forward in the `Beginnings' section
Life With Tim in the authoritarian section (Please note, this story is not for everyone because there are several scenes depicting Master/slave and BDSM relationships. So, if you are not interested in this activity, please, please do not read this story.)
Please if you can, contribute and keep NIFTY GOING strong as ever. They need our support so stories like this and so many others can continue to be publish for many hours of reading enjoyment.