Date: Tue, 27 Dec 2005 06:17:32 EST
From: Jetjt@aol.com
Subject: Super Jeff, Chapter Two

The following is a story of gay fiction. If you are offended by the subject
or are too young please exit now. This work is the property of the author
and may not be reproduced without permission. John Tucker, JETjt@aol.com

				SUPER JEFF

				Chapter Two

Chris' POV

`They don't love me!' was all that raged through my mind as I fled the
house where I'd grown up. Tears flowed to the point that I was in danger of
tripping. `Where could I go?'

My grandparents on my mom's side were dead and my dad's parents hated
gays. Any aunts or uncles I had would reject me as our families were
distant, only seeing each other when someone died. Running as hard as I
could, I headed for the park where I could stop and think of my options. It
was getting dark and was fortunately a warm night as all I possessed was
what I was wearing, which included only a light jacket.

By the time I got to the park I was out of breath. I decided to go deep
into the park where I hoped I could not be observed by a passerby. Finding
a deserted table under a small cabana roof, I sank onto the concrete bench
and wiped my eyes clear of the tears that continued to threaten. My mind
was in turmoil. I was too young to be out on my own, having turned 16 only
six months earlier. I `d hoped that I could get a job, but even if I could,
it would be at minimum wage, not enough to sustain myself alone. As my mind
searched for a solution to my dilemma I became even more discouraged as my
options narrowed down to the unthinkable. Unable to find a way out, my mind
wandered to the family that now disowned me and the circumstances leading
to my current troubles.

There were six of us kids in our family. I was the eldest. My mother had
just given birth to our sixth, a girl, and my father worked at two jobs to
earn our meager subsistence. Hand-me-downs were the order of the day, and
it was not a rare occurrence when before payday, we had to scour the
cupboards to find enough food to make a meal. Even though I did well in
school, I knew that without a scholarship, my chances of making it to
college were less than dim. In spite of our hardships, we still had
fun. Our parents had little time to spare, and my mother had been in a
state of pregnancy for half of my life, leaving little energy to do much
more than tend the babies. Starting with me, we kids did most of the work
around the house. I took care of the yard, while my next younger sister,
Cathie, was in charge of seeing that the housework, laundry and cooking got
done and shared between the younger ones. Our fun times were mostly with
each other. We had no money for vacations, or for school activities that
required money, even of the most minor kind. I earned money mowing yards,
and though I was allowed to keep it, I had to buy all of my own clothing
and whatever was left most often was spent before paydays for food. I was
looking forward to the coming summer when I hoped to find a full-time job
bagging groceries, or working in a fast food place. That opportunity never
came.

I knew I was different from the time I was around 12 years old. I started
to grow, slowly at first, but unlike the few friends I had at my age, my
sexual awareness centered on other guys, rather than the girls they
suddenly noticed. Sex was something that was never talked about at home. We
all learned about the birds and bees, but not due to any guidance from our
parents. I heard at home and at school all the cruel and hateful things
said about gays that are common among kids going through puberty. Once I
knew what the words meant, I didn't want to be one, for sure. I kept my
mouth shut and tried to act macho, thinking that I would change as I got
older. Instead my feelings toward other guys just got stronger and
stronger. I didn't dare show my feelings to anyone as I could see the
consequences at school, of kids who were labeled fags. They were the social
outcasts and were derided and insulted with the cruelty that is so freely
exercised by the young. I kept mostly to myself. This was not only just
because I was gay, but because I was embarrassed by our meager
circumstances.

It was at the beginning of the school year that had just passed, my junior
year, that I met Joey. He was a new kid in our school and was nerdy like
me, and rather shy. We were assigned as partners for an English project and
found that we not only worked well together, but liked each other. After a
couple of months he invited me to sleep over at his house. His parents were
in middle management and he was an only child, affording him many more
opportunities than I had. It didn't matter to him that I couldn't
reciprocate when he'd spring for a soft drink or an ice cream cone after
school. My parents didn't care if I ate at his house or stayed overnight,
as long as my chores and yard cutting jobs were done. For me, it was a new
life. Joey's parents were very nice and understanding. I loved being there,
and had a real sense of belonging, as an individual rather than just the
oldest of the tribe.

Joey had his own room, a luxury I'd never been afforded. It was there that
we could be ourselves, or even pretend to be someone different. It was like
being offered another chance at childhood, something that had been denied
me by the time I was 10. I had been made to understand from that early age
that my responsibilities to the family superseded playing or enjoying
myself. Since I was oldest, I was expected to take care of my brothers and
sisters at the expense of my own pleasure. I quickly learned, through harsh
punishments inflicted by my father, that disobedience was not an
option. Now here I was with Joey, who offered me friendship and the chance
to dream of a life beyond my family. Friday night sleepovers became the
norm, and if I got behind in my yard work, Joey would be beside me to help
so that I had some free time with him. The fact that he was cute didn't
hurt either. When I wasn't with Joey, I'd be thinking about Joey. That
thinking grew to beyond simply being best friends. Our bodies were nearly
mature and our closeness in bed led to more than companionship. I was now
5' 10" tall and weighed 145 pounds, and Joey was only a bit shorter and
lighter. Neither of us had hairy bodies, but had the appropriate tufts of
hair in all the right places as well as more than ample, if not generous
equipment.

It was halfway through the past year when our explorations became more than
accidental touches. I felt I was falling for Joey in a big way, and it was
obvious that he felt the same toward me. Exploring the internet on Joey's
computer opened for us a gay world that we never knew existed. It left us
breathless and unbelievably horny. At first we only relieved each other's
tensions with our hands but by the time school was nearing an end we had
graduated to oral gratifications that we had seen on the web.

Then disaster struck. Joey's father announced that they would be moving at
the end of the school year. Our lives were shattered. There was no appeal,
and though his parents expressed deep regret, the parting was
inevitable. We were determined to spend every moment we could
together. Joey even began coming over to my house more often when I
couldn't get away from home. One Friday night just as school was about to
end we had planned on my spending the night at his house as they were
moving the following weekend. We had only finished dinner, when Joey's mom
got a call from my dad. My mother was in labor and he had to leave with her
for the hospital. I was needed at home. I asked if Joey could come over,
and he reluctantly agreed, as he knew that Joey was moving soon. When we
arrived at home, both my parents were gone. The younger kids were all in
bed, and the older ones were more than capable of taking care of
themselves. Joey and I sneaked away from the family room where everyone was
watching TV, going to the room I shared with my middle brother Tommy and
the next youngest brother Danny. Within minutes our frantic embraces had
turned to a final act of oral satisfaction. We were near the throes of
orgasm in a 69 position, when the door suddenly opened and my two
roommate/brothers ran into the room. Skidding to a halt they gawked at the
scene before them. Explanations, excuses, cajoling and even bribery seemed
to fly over their heads as they ran out of the room while we hastily
dressed. Cornering them outside, I threatened their very existence if they
told on us. Tommy pledged his silence and Danny just nodded in agreement.

The following Friday we had no school, being finished for the year, except
for seniors. They had no classes after homeroom and were released right
after the commencement practice to sign yearbooks, to just hang out or to
leave. I was at Joeys' where the moving van was being loaded and last
minute details attended to. We were glued to each other, never leaving each
other's sight, until the fateful time when Joey's dad declared it was time
to go. Stepping one last time into his room, we shared a final kiss as
tears poured down our faces. At last the voice of Joey's dad was heard
calling him to get into the car. Devastated, we released our tight grasp on
each other and stumbled crying to the front door and finally to their car,
where we stood in a final hug while the house was secured for the last
time. Five minutes later I saw their car pull away, with only Joey's
tearful face and his futile wave showing as the car turned the corner and
was gone.

The emptiness I felt inside was numbing. I knew that I'd never get through
the day unless I did something, so I walked home and got out the
mower. That afternoon I mowed two yards that I had planned to do the
following day, even though no one was home to pay me. At last tired, but in
a sour mood, I took the mower home along with yard tools and put them
away. I knew that I had three dollars in my savings jar in my bedroom, and
decided to splurge on a Slurpee at the neighborhood convenience market,
since I had no desire to be at home. I went up to my room, and opened the
jar to find it empty. Enraged I ran through the house to find the
thief. Shrieking like a banshee, I attacked my brothers, certain that one
of them had taken my money. Neither had seen me before in such a state, and
got angry at the accusations, but I wouldn't relent. Finally, as a final
defense, they ran to our mother for protection. Almost at once I realized
that my secret was at risk so I took off after them.

Before I could get there, both had denied taking the money, and Danny,
wishing to bring the wrath of my mother down on me, revealed what they had
seen the previous weekend.

My mother's repugnance rose as she demanded corroboration from Tommy, who
fearfully confirmed the story just as I was rushing in. Insisting that I
tell the truth, my mother gave me the third-degree, until at last in tears,
I confessed. Directing me to my room and instructing me to stay there until
my father came home from work, she dismissed the three of us, warning that
not another word be spoken about either incident.

I heard the booming voice of my father through the thin walls long before
the door to our room was flung open, his body outlined in the
opening. Challenging me to deny the charges he had heard, I couldn't,
knowing that our parents had always promised to stand by us if we didn't
lie to them. Wrong! I'm sure the neighbors in the next block could hear the
screaming and cruel epithets my father hurled at me before he pronounced my
immediate eviction. Tearfully, I started to gather some clothes to put in a
paper bag, when my father ordered me to leave them, as I would be allowed
to take only what I was wearing.

Shamefully, I left my room as he continued to yell at me, speeding up to a
fast walk as I passed through the front door and increased speed as I
crossed the porch. As I turned onto the front walk, the last thing I saw
was Tommy and Danny standing in the front yard crying and holding out their
arms to me as I ran away from them.

I sobbed myself to sleep in the park and awoke shivering. For two hours I
sat there in a stupor, hungry. I decided to sneak back into my neighborhood
and try to collect the money from the mowing I had done the previous day,
but on arrival, I was told that my brothers had come by earlier and had
been paid for my work. Dejected and totally alone, I returned to my table
in the park, where I broke down once again, racked with self-hate.

It was then I felt the hand on my shoulder and the kind voice offering to
help. I looked up ready to reject the offer, when I recognized the face of
Jeff Richards, the most popular guy in my school. He was also a senior next
year and the Student Body President. I couldn't believe he was even talking
to me! God he was gorgeous! Dressed in his sweaty jogging clothes, he was
so far above me in social status that I was dumbfounded and babbled on
incoherently. I'm not even sure what I said, but I know that somehow I told
him that I was kicked out of my home because was gay. I thought for sure
that he would reject me too, but instead, he confessed that he also was gay
and offered to take care of me. At first I thought he might demand that I
`give' myself to him in payment, but immediately recognizing what I feared,
he insisted that he had no such intentions and that I was safe with him. He
said he was taking me home and not to worry about anything. I protested,
sure that his parents wouldn't accept me and return me to the streets, but
he insisted, promising to intercede on my behalf. I gave in, knowing that I
had no other acceptable options. He pulled me to my feet and led me on the
uphill climb to his house more than two miles away.

As he turned into the drive the large gate swung open and I looked up at
the biggest, most beautiful house I'd ever seen.  I almost collapsed in
shock. I was going to go in there? He kept talking, saying it was just a
house and all, but when we went through the colossal entry I knew that I
was in the wrong place. My face was dirty and tear-streaked, my clothes
were disheveled, worn out and grimy, and my shoes would have been rejected
by Goodwill where I had purchased them. He seemed totally unfazed at my
protestations and suggested that we go get some breakfast. My stomach
quickly overcame my resolve and we went first into the breakfast room, then
into the kitchen where he introduced me to their chef, a man named Frank.

For the next few minutes, Jeff and Frank traded barbs, kidding and
challenging each other, until I couldn't help but laugh at their
antics. Jeff demanded food, and Frank, in turn ordered us to wash up
first. Acquiescing, Jeff led me to a downstairs bathroom where he pointed
out the sink to me as he stepped to the toilet and pulled out the most
awesome piece of meat I'd ever seen as he began flooding the commode with a
stream of yellow fluid.  I couldn't take my eyes off of his exposed organ
in spite of my efforts to be cool.  He just seemed amused. I quickly washed
and rushed out of the room to get control of my lust before he saw the
large bulge that had challenged the confines of my jeans. A moment later he
appeared and guided me back to the breakfast room, where a large display of
mouth-watering food awaited.

Jeff had noticed that there were three places set, but there were only two
of us, so he stuck his head through the kitchen door, and asked Frank the
reason for the extra place setting. Frank announced that Jeff's mother
would be joining us. No sooner had Jeff backed out of the kitchen than his
mother appeared. She scared the hell out of me! It wasn't that she was mean
looking; she was just breathtaking in appearance and dressed to the
teeth. She had such a regal bearing that I was tempted to kneel in front of
her, like she was a queen or something.

Jeff took it all in stride, however, and introduced me to his mother like
it was an everyday thing that he would invite a ragged, dirty boy from
school home for breakfast.

Mrs. Richards was courteous and welcomed me, though I'm sure she must have
thought that Jeff had lost his mind. She suggested we sit, then after
taking her place, rang a little bell. Frank appeared, took our orders, then
served us from the sideboard. After asking if we needed anything further,
he beat a hasty exit into the kitchen, where, I'd bet my next twenty years,
he glued his ear to the doorway.

Mrs. Richards kept her poise, and suggested that Jeff ask the blessing for
the meal. Jeff paused, and then smiled his acceptance. I bowed my head, and
just about shit my britches when he outed me during the prayer. When he
finished I was blushing, and afraid to open my eyes. Finally I took a peek
and saw Jeff grinning like he'd just been awarded first prize. His mother
on the other hand had a shocked look on her face, while Jeff simply picked
up his glass of orange juice and took a healthy swig.

Once she had overcome her surprise, Jeff's mom said simply. "Jeff honey, I
think we need to have a chat after breakfast.

"Sure mom," Jeff answered like she'd just asked him if he wanted his
allowance, "I think it would be a good idea. I'm starved though, so let's
eat first."

Jeff's mom agreed and began eating.

"Are you glad school's out?" Jeff asked me to break the tension that
permeated the room.

"Not really," I answered truthfully. "I like school, and my best friend had
to move once school was out."

"I like it too," Jeff answered. "Sorry about your friend."

"His dad had a job offer that he couldn't refuse, so I'm glad for him that
way. I really liked his parents too. I'm sure they're sorry they had to
move, but it couldn't be helped."

"Oh well, you can always e-mail him and keep in touch," Jeff offered.

"I wish I could, but my family doesn't have a computer."

"That must make it hard to do papers for school," Jeff replied.

"I usually use one of them in the school library, if the paper's not too
long. Otherwise I use an old typewriter that my mother has had for 30
years."

"Wow! That must be a chore," Jeff commented.

"It's tough alright," I agreed. "You learn pretty quickly not to make
typing mistakes."

The conversation between Jeff and me continued throughout the meal, and in
spite of our talking, we finished slightly before Mrs. Richards who had
just listened to our chatter without comment.

"Would you like seconds?" Jeff asked.

"I wouldn't mind a sweet roll," I answered.

"Why don't you help yourself to whatever you'd like," Jeff's mother
offered. "If you'd excuse us for a few minutes, I think Jeff and I need to
have a little talk."

Jeff pushed back his chair and moved quickly behind his mother, giving me a
wink before pulling her chair back as she stood. I also stood and thanked
Mrs. Richards for the meal.

"Please have some more," she said smiling. "Jeff shouldn't be too long."

"Thank you. If I don't see you again Ma'am," I said trying my best to be
polite, "it was a pleasure meeting you."

Jeff scowled at me for suggesting that I might leave, but hid his
expression from his mom.

After they left the room, I picked up my plate, stepped to the side table
and filled it generously with food, thinking that at least I'd leave full
when I was told to leave. I put the heaping plate back in front of my
chair, grabbed my empty glasses and filled them again with milk and orange
juice. `I might as well make the most of the opportunity,' I thought to
myself.

Eating more rapidly than I had before, I laid waste to my second helping. I
was even thinking about thirds, when Jeff appeared in the doorway, smiling
and giving me the high sign. I couldn't believe it! Mrs. Richards was going
to let me stay!

"Come on buddy-boy," Jeff said. "We have things to do."

"What kind of things?" I asked as I got up from the table.

"Well first I'm going to show you to your room. Then after you wash up,
we'll go shopping. We need to get you some duds that won't make you look
like one of the gardeners. Afterward we'll come back and get cleaned up
properly, and then I'm going to teach you to play golf."

"I don't have any money for clothes," I admitted. "Maybe I could just
borrow some old things that you don't want any more until I get a job."

We're going to be too busy for you to work at a job," Jeff informed
me. "We've got a lot of building to do. Not only are you going to learn to
play golf, but I promised that I'm gonna make a hunk out of you. To do
that, we have to work out a bit."

"I've never been too athletic," I replied. "I'd hate to disappoint you."

"Let me give you some advice," Jeff said. "Golf is very difficult to learn
even to play a passable game. It took me quite a while myself, but I've had
years to practice. Don't expect too much or get frustrated if you can't hit
the ball. Golf should be fun. 90% of golfers are only passable. I'll teach
you to be at least that good, and if you have some hidden ability, you'll
become better than that. It will take awhile though, so don't worry if you
don't play well at first. I promise that I won't make fun of you and won't
care if your progress is slow. As for working out, a dummy that is so
uncoordinated that he can't tie his shoes, can build muscles. It just takes
determination and sweat. "

"What can I say but that I'll try. I can't thank you enough for all you're
doing for me."

"I'll take your thanks this once," Jeff accepted, "but after this I don't
want to hear more than simple thanks now and then. I'm going to enjoy all
this, so you can downplay the thank you stuff."

"Okay, I'll try," I agreed. "It's just that I was taught to say thank you
for everything I received."

"I'll keep that in mind and not rag on you too much if you slip," Jeff
kidded. "Let's get going."

After again washing up, Jeff led me to the large 6 car garage. The two
spaces nearest the door to the house were empty, so I presumed that those
spaces belonged to his parents. On the other side of the empty spaces were
sports cars. One a Nissan 350 Z belonged to Jeff, but he said that his
mother said that we could use the larger Mercedes "flip top" sports car
that was her second car, for our shopping. I'm sure that car cost more than
my dad made in two years! Twenty minutes later we were at the Mall. In
spite of my protestations, Jeff dragged me from store to store, stocking me
up on toiletries, underclothes, and casual everyday clothes. Stopping at a
sporting goods store, we purchased a couple of jocks, three different kinds
of running outfits, a pair of running shoes, and shorts.  After visiting
two more shoe stores for casual shoes and a trip back to

the car to unload the many bags we were carrying, he took me to an
exclusive men's store for "dress up" clothing. The clothing he'd already
bought for me was more than I had ever possessed in my entire life, but I
couldn't believe the clothing at our last stop. Not only were the
selections beautiful, but so expensive I couldn't have bought a tie with my
entire earnings from a week of mowing. Jeff was unfazed however, making me
try on shirts, slacks, formal shoes, setting aside those things he said
looked good. Then he insisted that we purchase a suit. After looking
through the selection in my size, Jeff picked out one that he said was
perfect for me. After a fitting, we were informed that the suit would be
ready on Tuesday. Jeff said that it would have to do, then collected the
clothing he'd selected and marched on the register. Laying down his credit
card for the tenth time that day, I about fainted when I saw the total that
the clerk rang up. It was nearly $2500 and that was just in this store! I
was weak-kneed as we left the store with our boxes of clothing.

"I^ÅI^ÅI^Å.  just don't know what to say," I stammered as we settled into
the leather seats of his mother's car. "I'm speechless."

"Yeah," he said with a grin, "It's a good thing my mom taught me how to
shop. If we'd bought everything in that last store, the bill would have
been twice as much. We got some good bargains. My mom told me not to spend
over $5000, and I think I came pretty close to that, and look at all the
neat shit we bought." He concluded proudly.

"People don't live like this!" I exclaimed.

"Well, my people do, so get used to it," he said as he started the
car. "Now after we go home and get all this stuff inside, we need to go to
the club. I think I'll have the pro there give you your first lesson in
golf. I'll just hit some balls nearby, then after you have finished with
your lesson, which will only last a half-hour, you can join me on the
driving range and we'll hit balls for another hour. Next week when the
course is not busy, and after you've had some more lessons and lots of
practice hitting balls, I'll take you for your first real round of golf and
explain the rules and stuff about golf etiquette. If we work hard on your
game all summer, you should be a fair golfer by the time school starts."

"I'm going to ruin your summer holding you back from your friends," I
pleaded. "I'm sure you have better things to do than to baby-sit me."

"Nonsense," he disagreed. "You're my project for the summer! I'm gonna love
it. I've always done stuff just for myself. Now I get to do it for someone
else: my new best bud. When we get back from golf, we'll go home, and you
can shower and take a rest in your new room while I practice the piano for
an hour. After that we can work out for an hour then just kick back until
dinner."

The day progressed as Jeff had planned. My first golf lesson was a
disaster, but Jeff who was watching nearby didn't seem to be anything but
encouraging. By the end of our practice on the driving range, I felt I'd
forgotten everything the pro had told me. Jeff just smiled, and said
simply, "You'll get better."

I was happy to take the opportunity to rest by the time we returned home. I
was amazed that all the clothing we'd purchased was put away, and the items
that needed pressing were ironed and hanging in the closet by the time we
arrived there. My room was impressive beyond description. It was twice the
size of my parents' bedroom back home and had its own bathroom, replete
with marble surfaces and gold fixtures. I was living a dream. Dream I did
too, as I showered and sank into slumber afterward. My dream was more like
a nightmare. I dreamed that my father found me walking down the street, and
insisted that I return home with him where he stripped me bare, and began
beating me in front of my whole family who just laughed and laughed as I
cried in agony. I must have screamed in my sleep because the dream suddenly
stopped and I awoke to the feel of a cool hand gently shaking me out of my
sleep. When I opened my eyes, I saw Jeff with a worried look on his face.

"I think you were having a bad dream," he said softly. "Don't worry; you're
safe here with us."

"Thanks Jeff. It was a bad one alright," I said remembering, then
shivering.

"I think we'll skip the workout tonight," Jeff said. "I'll show you around
for a while, then we'll go to my room and I'll get you up to speed on the
latest video games. We'll have to get you a computer tomorrow, so you can
play them in here whenever you want."

"I don't understand, Jeff," I said. "I don't know why you're doing all this
for me. I just keep thinking that it all will end and I'll wake up and find
myself back in that park."

"Let me tell you something," he explained. "This morning I woke up thinking
about my summer. Sure I had plenty to do, but it didn't mean anything. You
see, like I told you earlier, everything for me is easy. I'm not nearly as
good as I want to be in several things, but that doesn't mean I'm not good
or that I even have to work hard at becoming even better. It's just that
there didn't seem to be any spice in my life. It was just more of the
same. I have friends of course, but in many ways, I think they act
stupid. Several come from affluent homes, but they're just wasting away the
summer, sleeping in and playing around. I want to be better than that, but
somehow it's just lost its excitement. Then I found you. I don't know why,
but I'm happier than I've been in longer than I can remember.  Maybe it's
you; maybe it's me. I don't know, but I feel an excitement that I've never
felt before. You're a very attractive guy, though a bit scrawny and I knew
at once that I couldn't stand to see you suffer when I had so much. But I
didn't ask you to live here out of pity. I expect to get as much out of the
experience as you do."

"I hope I don't disappoint you," I said with doubt showing plainly on my
face.

"I don't expect things to be as easy for you as they are for me," he
said. "I also know I can't expect the level of achievement I expect from
myself either. You see, in spite of all the people I've known, I've never
been interested in any of them, at least interested enough to want to know
what they're really like inside. With you it's somehow different."

"I don't know if I can just be your toy," I said with unexpected boldness
but truthfully. "I do have some self respect, you know."

"Chris, I don't want you for a toy, believe me," he said with his eyes
misting up. "I care for you a lot more than that. I don't know right now
what you mean to me. Are you the brother I never had? Are you a best
friend? Am I attracted to you and want our relationship to be more?  I'm
not sure yet. My mind is confused. I only know that being around you makes
me happy. It makes me want to be a better person."

I was taken aback by his words. It got me to thinking about what I wanted
as well. I was so glad to have someone, especially someone as popular and
cool as Jeff to accept me and take me in, that I'd never really given our
relationship much thought yet. I knew it would be important in the coming
days; but for now I'd just have to take life as it comes.

"Jeff," I replied. "I don't know what I want yet either. I'm going to have
to trust you. I'll do what you want until I can see where this is all
going. I don't know if it's something for a long time or just until I can
take care of myself, but I'll give it my best shot."

"I can't ask for more," he said acceptingly. Then he smiled. "Get
dressed. We have things to do. I want to show you some cool video games
that I have in my room.  My dad should be home after while, so you can meet
him then. He's a really cool man. I think you'll like him."

"If he's anything like you, I know I will," I said as I climbed from the
bed and went to the closet.

"What should I wear?" I asked.

"I think a pair of khaki long pants, and one of those golf shirts will be
fine. You can wear sneakers too. We don't dine formally at night, but my
mom insists on long pants and at least a collared shirt. Of course we dress
up a bit more if we have company, but you're family, so what I suggested
will be all right. We don't have to dress like that during the day, as you
have seen, but only during dinner."

"Your mom must have had a heart attack when she saw me this morning," I
commented from the closet where I picked out a shirt, pants and shoes,
taking them back into the bedroom where I laid them out on the
bed. Stepping to the dresser, I searched for the underwear and socks I'd
need, as Jeff responded with a chuckle.

"She was a bit surprised, I admit," He laughed as he remembered. "At first
I think she was convinced that I fell out of bed on my head. In spite of
her lofty coolness though, she really is a sweet lady underneath. I guess I
must have matured early because she and dad have always given me a long
leash. I think she still has reservations about you living here, but she's
left it up to me to decide so as far as I'm concerned, it's a done deal."

"I hope your dad feels the same way," I wished aloud.

"Oh don't worry about him. If I wanted to take a trip around the world
alone, he'd let me. I'm not sure if it's that he trusts me, or for some
other reason, but from about the time I was 12 he's rarely ever said `no'
to me. Of course I try not to do things that they will question, but
sometimes I push my luck a bit."

"Yeah," I said stoically, "like inviting me to live here."

"I admit that I was pushing my luck on that one," Jeff said with a grin,
"but I'm still amazed at how much they'll let me do unsupervised."

By this time I was fully dressed, so Jeff gave me a `come hither' gesture
and headed through the door of my room, down the hallway to his with me
trailing behind.

By the time it was dinnertime I was hungry. Jeff and I had spent most of
the time in his room playing his games. We heard his parents come home, but
he wanted to wait until dinner to introduce me to his father so we stayed
out of sight.

At 6:45 we descended the stairway to the first floor, and he led me to the
family room where we found his parents having a before-dinner cocktail.

"Dad, I'd like you to meet my friend Chris Taylor," he said as we moved to
the couple.

"I'm happy to meet you Chris," Jeff's dad said. "Jeff's mother and I have
been talking about you and her conversation with Jeff this morning. I must
say that I'm pleased that you're with us."

"Thank you sir," I said accepting his outstretched hand. "You all have been
far too generous."

"Well, that remains to be seen," he replied. "Would you boys like a drink?"

"Sure," Jeff said, giving me a wink. "I'll have a martini."

"Gin or Vodka? On the rocks or straight up? Lemon or olive?"

"Uh," Jeff stammered at the unexpected offer. "I'll just take it like you
like it."

"Gin, straight up and an olive coming right up," he said. "What will you
have Chris?"

"Just a coke, please," I answered.

"At teetotaler, huh?" he said smiling.

"I just don't have any experience with liquor," I admitted. "My dad drank
sometimes, but never at home."

"Well, I'll not push you," Mr. Richards said. "You boys are getting old
enough to gain some experience with it, but if you do, I don't want you
driving. I see too many lives wrecked or lost by such irresponsible
behavior. It's almost time to eat, but I'd like to chat with you after
dinner, Chris. I think we should get to know each other."

"I'd be happy to do that Mr. Richards," I agreed.

"I'm not trying to be pushy, but I need to talk to you about your life so
far and your family. We need to talk about some legal matters too. If
you're going to stay long term, we need to secure a guardianship from your
parents. If something should happen to you, for instance like a car
accident, we need to be able to make sure you're cared for properly."

"I hadn't really thought of that," I admitted, "but I don't think you'll
have a problem with my father. He made it clear that he no longer wants me
around."

"It's his loss," Jeff's dad said. "From what I've seen, Jeff has made a
good choice for a friend."

"Thank you sir," I blushed. "I'll try not to disappoint you, Mrs. Richards
or him."

"You're most welcome, Chris," Mr. Richards answered. "Since you're going to
be around for the foreseeable future, I think you should dispense with the
`Mr. & Mrs. Richards' stuff, and the `Sir and Ma'am' stuff too. Why don't
you just call me Jeff?

"Won't that get a bit confusing with two Jeff's," I asked.

"Not if you call him `SJ' like his friends do or `Tres' like we do here at
home.

"Three?" I said remembering my Spanish.

"Yes," Mr. Richards said. "Technically, I guess I'm Doctor Jeffrey
Richards, the second, or `junior' if you prefer, but Tres is Jeffrey
Richards the third."

"Hmmm," I said thinking. "Would it be alright to call you Doctor Jeff?" I
asked. "That way I wouldn't get you mixed up in my mind with Jeff III if I
forget and call him Jeff."

"That would be fine, at least for now, son," Dr. Jeff agreed. "If you
change your mind later, that would be okay too."

"You can call me Doctor Mel if you'd like," Jeff's mom suggested. "Everyone
else does. That way you'll have even less to remember. By the way, I like
your outfit. You look very nice."

"Thanks.  I will, Ma'am," I said politely. "And thanks for the clothing. I
can thank Jeff for picking them out."

"Hey, watch that Ma'am stuff, and you're welcome," Dr. Mel responded with a
laugh. "I think that it's about time for dinner. I hope you're hungry."

"I am, thanks for asking," I replied.

Jeff looked up at the ceiling.

"What?" I asked at his expression.

"Keep that up and you're going to spoil them," Jeff advised with a wry
grin.

His parents just laughed as they arose and headed toward the dining room.

		*	*	*	*	*