Kyle, Part 3

Chapter 7


Disclaimer: This story is a continuation of the story of Kevin Foley, Rick Mashburn, and their "sons," Tim Murphy, Kyle Goodson, Justin Davis, and Brian Mathews that started in "Tim," continued in "Justin" and "Kyle," "Kyle, Part 2," and now continues in "Kyle, Part 3."  It is about gay men and gay boys living and loving together as a family, and it contains descriptions of sex.  The sex is never intergenerational, though.  If you are offended by descriptions of gay sex, or if the law in your area forbids you to read them, please exit the story.  Otherwise, I hope you enjoy it.  I appreciate feedback, and you can send it to me at brew_drinker23@yahoo.com.

--Brew Maxwell


(Justin's Perspective)

Spending the day with Kyle getting the stuff for Brian's party was great.  He was so damn excited about everything that it was almost catching.  When I first met him and Tim, I thought they were goody-goodies that I wouldn't ever like; eight months later, Kyle was my best friend, my brother, even, and Tim was my brother, too.  Unbelievable.

He and I talked some about sex.  Before that day there was sort of a tension between him and me about sex.  I would love to get that hot ass of his in bed, but after that day we spent together, I knew that wasn't going to happen unless there was some super major change in his relationship with Tim.  He didn't say it, but I knew Kyle considered himself married to Tim, or at least permanently committed to him.  As much fun as sex with Kyle would be, it would tear our family apart and screw up everything.  He said I was his best friend, and he damn sure was mine, and that's the way we were going to keep it. 

Not that I was dissatisfied with my sex life with Brian, by any means.  Brian had taken to butt sex big time since we first did it in New Orleans, and he pretty much always wanted the bottom position.  I didn't mind being the bottom guy sometimes, but I liked the other position better.  Brian had been real gentle and careful the three or four times he had been on top, and it really hadn't hurt me at all.  But there were so many memories I had of lying on my back or bending over a bed while some dude whose name I didn't even know rammed his cock into me that being the bottom just didn't appeal to me all that much.   

Kyle spent all day on the Saturday of the party cooking and making sure everything was like he wanted it.  The New Orleans people got to our house around two o'clock in the afternoon, and we had fun visiting with them.

"Mom and Dad, I can't believe you came all this way for a party," Kevin said while we were sitting in the den talking.

"We didn't come for a party, Kevin; we came for our grandchildren," Beth said.  She had me on one side of her and Brian on the other, and she was holding our hands.

"You all haven't seen the clubhouse," Rick said.

"Not yet, but I definitely want to.  I want to shoot some pool, too," Craig said.  "Are you ready to lose some money," he asked Rick.

"I'm ready to shoot pool, but we'll see about losing money, Bubba," Rick said.

"Would anybody like some coffee," Kevin asked.

They all said they would, so Kyle and Rick got up to make it. 

"Has Kyle done everything for this party himself," Cherie asked.

"Pretty much.  Wait till you see it.  I really don't know why he's been so eager to do all of that, either," Kev said.

"I know," I said.  "He told me that Brian is Tim's best friend, that he loves Brian, and he loves the people Brian loves.  Those were his reasons."

"What a sweetheart," Beth said.

"I know.  He's a keeper, right, Tim," Kevin asked him.

Ole Tim blushed when Kevin said that, but he grinned and nodded big.

After they brought out the coffee and some cookies that I didn't know we had, we all had us a little mid-afternoon snack. 

"How much more do you have to do, Kyle," Kevin asked.

"Nothing.  It's all ready.  Of course, I still have to cook the stuff, but everything else is made," he said.

"It smells wonderful, Kyle," Beth said.

"Thanks.  I hope it'll taste good," he replied.

"Oh, I'm sure it will," Ed said.

"He made stuffed artichokes by Odille's recipe," Rick said.  "Did you taste them to make sure they were right?"

"I ate one," Kyle said.

"You ate a whole artichoke," Kevin asked like he couldn't believe it.

Kyle grinned his cute little devil grin and nodded.

"He's a growing boy," Craig said.  "Right, sport?"

"Yeah, but wait till you see how big those things are," Rick said.

''Grandma, Justin passed his GED on Thursday," Brian said.

"I know.  A little bird told me.  Congratulations, Jus," she said, and then she kissed me.

Everybody else said congratulations, too.  I said "Thank you," and I figured that was it for me.

"Brian, would you hand me my purse, please."  Her purse was on the table at the end of the sofa, next to where Bri was sitting.  He handed Grandma her purse.

"Justin, your New Orleans relatives are so proud of you that we can hardly stand it.  Kyle called us Thursday night to invite us for tonight, and the first thing he said was that you had passed.  He was obviously very proud of you, too.  All four of us wanted you to have this card.  Just know it comes with our love and sincere congratulations."

She handed me an envelope.  I was pretty touched.  A few people had given me cards for my birthday last summer, but nobody had ever given me a card for something I had done.

"Thank you so much.  This is my first card for anything," I said.

"Open it," Grandma said.

I was really nervous, and my hands were shaking a little bit.  I knew that card was something I was going to keep forever.  The cover of it showed this guy dressed in a graduation outfit, and it said, "Congratulations, Graduate."  When I opened it up to read the inside, I almost shit myself.  Inside was a check for $10,000.00.  I know I must have looked stupid as hell, but I didn't know what to say.  I just started making these little noises trying to make my voice work.  Finally, I said,

"Is this all for me?"

I looked up, and they all had grins a mile wide, so I thought maybe it was a "got you last" joke or something.

"Yes, it's for you," Grandma said.

"I can't . . ."  "I can't . . ."

"Believe it," Kevin asked.

"Thank . . ."

"Spit it out, stud," Kyle said.  He looked as happy for me as the rest of them did.

"Thank you," I finally got out.  I grabbed Grandma and gave her a big hug and kiss.  Then I got up and hugged and kissed the rest of them.

"Look at it, Brian!  I can't believe it," I said.

"Wow!"  Brian said.

"Show it to everybody," Kevin said.

"Y'all are too . . ."  I wanted to say generous, but I couldn't think of the damn word right then.

"We're all too proud for words," Grandpa said, and everybody laughed.

All of a sudden I got big tears in my eyes.  Happy tears for sure, but crying was the last thing I wanted to do just then.  I was really choked up, but they seemed to really like it that I was.

"Well, I don't think there's any question he appreciates the gift," Grandma said.

"Oh, I do, and thank all of you," I said.  "Phew!  I was excited because you got me a card.  This is unbelievable."

"Maybe you can use it for a down payment on a car," Craig said.

"He has a truck that he paid for himself," Kevin said.  "Rick co-signed a loan and then forgot about it.  One night we were in here talking, and he casually mentioned he had paid it off, without ever having to be reminded he owed the money."

"How old are you," Craig asked me.

"Seventeen."

"Damn, boy, when I was seventeen I didn't have sense to come in out of the rain," he said.

"Yes, indeed, Justin.  What you did is something to be proud of," Grandpa said.

I was proud of doing it, but I didn't think it was all that big a deal.  Rick had said he would kick my ass if I didn't do it, and I would have deserved it.

"That reminds me of something," Kyle said.  "Kevin and Rick, would you give me a hand with something in the kitchen, please?"  His voice didn't sound like he was asking for help.  They got up and left.

"Ohhhhhhh," Tim and Brian said at the same time.

I chuckled.  "It's time for a 'private talk with Kyle.'"

Tim, Brian, and Jeff laughed.

"This sounds like family code," Cherie said.  "What's this all about?"

"It is," I said.  "Whenever one of us says or does something out of line, Rick or Kevin or both of them take us into the kitchen for a private talk.  I think I know what this is about, but I'm not going to say anything."

"We better be good.  Otherwise, Kyle will be giving us private talks, too," Tim said.

Everybody laughed.

They came back in a few minutes, and all three of them were smiling.

"Did you get you a little private talk with Kyle," I asked in a teasing voice.

Rick and Kevin both laughed.

"Shut up," Kyle said to me.  He was laughing, but I knew he didn't want me picking at him.

"Yeah, we had a private talk with Kyle, and he was right, too," Kevin said.

"Did he threaten to whip your ass," I asked.

"Jeez.  Shut up, Justin, man," Kyle said.

"Kyle, you're acting like you're embarrassed, son, but you were right," Rick said.  "The deal is, Kevin and I are still learning how to be parents, and sometimes we don't pay attention to everything we should.  Justin never complains, he never asks us for anything, and we didn't realize he might need some new clothes.  Kyle took care of that yesterday for us, and he wanted to let us know that.  We appreciate what Kyle did."

"Jesus!  I can't believe you people.  It's like The Donna Reed Show around here," Craig said.

They all thought that was funny.

"Jus, can I tell them what you said the first day you were here," Kevin asked.

I didn't know what he was talking about, so I said "sure."

"The very first day he was here, Tim and Kyle came home from work and got snacks for themselves and Justin, but they didn't offer me anything.  I got on to them a little--very calmly, very rationally--and they both apologized and thanked me for reminding them that they shouldn't forget anyone in a situation like that.

"This guy says, and I'll paraphrase in deference to polite company, 'It's like Leave It to Beaver around here, and I feel like Eddie Haskell.'"

They all thought that was funny as hell, and I'm sure I turned a little red.

"When he said that, I knew I liked him, and I knew he'd fit right in," Kevin said.

"Let's go see the clubhouse," Kyle said.  He winked at me, and I knew he had said that to get me out of the spotlight.  I appreciated that, too. 


(Kyle's Perspective)

I woke up at five o'clock the morning of the party.  Tim was still sound asleep, and I knew he wouldn't wake up for a few hours, probably.  He was on his back, and only the lower parts of his legs were covered.  If there was anything at all I didn't like about sleeping with Tim, it was the way he kicked around the covers.  I guess I had a lifetime of that to look forward to, though, and I knew he couldn't do anything about it.  Besides, it did have an advantage.  When he kicked the covers off himself and me, too, usually, he'd get cold and snuggle up to me real close.  I liked that a lot.  He wasn't doing that, though, so I figured he must not have been cold.

I got up real careful and took a leak.  Then I got back in bed for a few more minutes.  I didn't bounce the bed or anything because I didn't want to wake him up.

Most of the time Tim's dick is rock hard when we wake up.  Sometimes, though, he gets up and uses the bathroom during the night.  On those mornings it usually wasn't completely hard.  He was puffed up that morning, but he wasn't hard yet.

I love to just lay back and look at him while he's sleeping.  He was like an innocent little boy, or an angel, even, when he was asleep.  While I was looking at him, he got a small smile on his face, so I figured I had woken him up.  I whispered his name, but he wasn't awake.  I thought maybe he was having a dream, and I hoped it was about me.

As I lay there next to him, I could feel the heat from his body.  In just a few seconds, he started to get an erection, and I watched it as it got bigger.  He had told me he sometimes dreams about sex, and I was wondering if he was having one of those dreams just then.  As he got hard, it made me start to get hard, too.  We had made love the night before, but sometimes once a day just isn't enough.  I wanted him bad right then, but I didn't want to wake my baby up on a day he could catch up on his sleep.

Just when I was starting to enjoy my hard-on and thinking I might have to take care of business myself, he rolls over onto his side, facing me.  Next thing I know, he rolls again, snuggling right up on me.  Uh-huh, I thought, now you're cold, you little monkey.  I reach down and pull the cover up over us.  I couldn't see his equipment anymore, anyway, but I could sure feel it pressing into me.  I'm lying there, just enjoying the warm feelings I'm having, when he reaches over and grabs my dick.  He got it low down by the balls, and I made a noise 'cause it hurt when he did that.  That didn't wake him up, though.

There I am, horny and needy as hell, with my beautiful boyfriend that I love more than anything else in the world with his hand wrapped around my dick, and him sound asleep and dead still.  

"Stroke it," I whispered, but he didn't hear me, of course.

Damn, I thought.  Do something, Tim.  I'm going to have the worst case of swollen balls in north Florida if something doesn't happen soon.  Then I thought, Concentrate, Kyle.  I thought about Tim's beautiful ass, how sweet and soft and nice it was.  Then I thought, His dick wants you, Kyle.  You can feel it against you, wet and sticky and delicious.  

I put my left hand on my chest and started rubbing it around some.  I used the end of my thumb to play with my nipple, flicking the ring in it up and down, up and down.  I was breathing pretty hard.  Then I got a mental picture of Tim licking my dick, taking the head into his mouth and gently sucking on it, swirling his tongue around.  I thought about all that stuff for a few minutes.  All of a sudden, I felt it start.  Something inside me contracted hard, and I was suddenly pumping out cum.  I let out a deep breath.  God, I needed that, I thought.  My angel came through for me in my time of need without even knowing it.      

I just lay there real still enjoying that good feeling you get right after you shoot.  He still had my dick in his cute little hand, but my dick started to soften up.  I would like to have done it again, and I would have if he had been awake, but I didn't figure there was much chance I could think myself off twice in a row.  In about a minute, that was no longer an issue.  He moved around again and pulled his hand away.  I used my dirty underwear from the day before to clean myself up, and then slow and careful I got out of bed.  Timmy was pulled up in a little ball, almost.  I put the cover over him real gentle, and then I took a shower and went downstairs.

I thought I was the only one up, but Jeff was in the kitchen when I got down there.  He had made some coffee, and he was sitting at the table doing something with a laptop computer.

"Good morning," he said.  

"Hi," I said.  I poured coffee for myself, and I patted Jeff's shoulder when I walked past him.

"Did you sleep well," he asked me.

"Yeah.  Did you?"

"Pretty well, but I woke up so damn early.  I went to a doctor in Gainesville, a shrink, and he told me that was sometimes one of the symptoms of depression, so I guess I have to live with it for a while."

"Are you still feeling real bad, Bubba," I asked.

"I still get depressed a little and cry, but it's nothing like it was before Christmas.  The doctor told me he didn't think I have chronic depression, and he's pretty sure it will go away in time.  I can tell I'm getting better, too."

"I'm glad.  I think about you all the time," I said.

"I think about you a lot, too.  You have been more than nice to me, Kyle, and thank you for that," Jeff said.

"It's what Clay would have done for Tim if I had died instead of him," I said.

"I know, but that doesn't make it any less special for me," he said.  "Oh, by the way, I built a shell for a Web site for you.  I registered a domain name, too.  It's Foley-Mashburn dot com.  Do you like that?"

"Yeah, cool.  What do you mean by a shell," I asked.

"That's just the basic files that will make up the site.  You're going to have to add the pictures and the text.  Do you want to see it," he asked.

"Right now?"

"Yeah.  Right now and right here on this computer.  I discovered a jack.  Evidently, this house is like a network or something.  I just plugged my ethernet card into the jack, and I got on the Internet.  I've got the site on disk, too, so you can save it to the hard drive of your computer and work with it from there.  You do have a computer, don't you?  You do know how to use a computer, don't you."

He was teasing me, so I decided to play along.

"A computer?  What's the Internet?  What's a Web site?"

"Asshole," he said, grinning.

He logged on to Foley-Mashburn dot com and a real nice page came up.  It basically had the title and a few sentences welcoming people to the site.

"Jeff, this is too cool, man.  Thanks for doing this for me," I said.

"I did it for you, but I also did it for me and the rest of the family, Clay."

I noticed he called me Clay, but I didn't say anything.

"Now explain to me how this is all going to work," I said.  "How do I get the pictures on the site?"

He explained about html and how I would have to use editing software to create files.  The software would let me make hyperlinks that people could click on.  The page would have thumbnail pictures that were actually links to other files that would have the bigger pictures.

"It's really not hard, Kyle," he said.

"Do you think we could have it up and running by tonight," I asked.

"You mean for the party?  Sure, I think so.  Some of it, at least.  Do you want me to do that?"

"Do you mind?  I want to learn how to do it so I can update it, but I'm not going to have time today to fool with it," I said.

"By the way, this is going to cost fifty bucks a month, but I'll pay for it," he said.

"Daddy's not going to let you pay for this.  You know that."

"That man has been so incredibly generous to me already.  I certainly don't deserve it, that's for sure," Jeff said.

"I don't deserve it, either, but he basically gives me everything I want," I said.

"Yeah, but you don't ever ask for anything, if what Clay told me is right.  Besides, you're his son."

"This is going to come as a big shock to you, Bubba, but guess what?  He thinks you are, too."

"Well, he certainly has treated me like one, and you've certainly treated me like a brother, but you know what I mean.  Look, fifty bucks is chicken feed on what he pays me for not working."

"How about you and I split it," I asked.

"Okay, that'll work.  Anyway, I'll work on this while you cook, and we'll have it ready for everybody tonight.  Where are the pictures?"

"I have those on zip disks.  Are you going to put pictures on right away?"

"Well, yeah.  That's mostly what it's going to be, isn't it," he said.

"Hmmmm.  Some of the pictures from the pool parties are of us naked.  Kevin said it was okay to have pictures of guys under 18 naked as long as they weren't sexual.  Maybe we should put a warning so that people like my mom won't go to those on accident.  Of course, she might want to see 'em, but it should be her choice, don't you think?"

"Yeah, that's a good idea.  Let me talk to Kevin and Rick about that first, though.  I know not to use last names, but we might need to get permission from people to put up nudies.  Or even from their parents for young guys.  No offense, Kyle, but we want this to be a good thing, not a potential pain in the ass," Jeff said.

"Whatever they say goes, okay?"

"Of course," he said.

Just then the back door opened and Rick came in from his run.

"Morning, guys," Rick said.  

We both told him good morning, and he got himself two large glasses of water and sat down.  He drank the first one down without saying anything.  He went slower on the second glass.

"Good run, Rick," Jeff asked.

"Yeah, very good.  I'm in a race in a couple of weeks, and I've been trying to do a couple of long runs a week lately," he said.

"How many miles today," I asked.

"Twenty-two, I think."  Then he checked the odometer he wore.  "Nope.  Twenty-four and a half today.  Damn, I thought it was taking more out of me than usual."

"You're amazing, Rick," Jeff said.

"Is the race here," I asked.

"No.  Jacksonville.  Do you want to go with me," he asked.

"I guess we'll all go, right," I said.

I had sort of taken it for granted that we always did stuff like that together.  I didn't want him going all the way to Jacksonville to run a marathon by himself.  That was ridiculous.

"Yeah, I guess.  The next Saturday Brian's going to do his Eagle Project.  I guess we'll all help with that," Rick said.

"I'll get lots of pictures of both, Jeff.  Jeff is making a Web site for us, Rick.  Look at it."

I turned the laptop to where Rick could see it.

"This looks good, Jeff.  Is this live or from disk," Rick asked.

"You know about this stuff," I asked Rick.

"A little.  The GE site comes under me, so I've had to learn a little about how to do it just to be able to talk to the guys who make it.  Do you ever look at that site?"

"What is GE?  Goodson Enterprises," Jeff asked.

"Yeah.  Your employer," Rick said.

Jeff looked sort of embarrassed, and Rick ruffled his hair to show him it was okay that he didn't know about it.  Hell, I hadn't looked at it in a couple of years, or since they first put it up, whenever that was.

"Do you ever look at it," he asked me.

"Are there pictures of you naked on it," I asked.

"I knew you didn't ever look at it," he said.  "It really does have some good stuff about the company on it, though, Kyle.  It's GoodsonEnterprises dot com."

"How you spell Goodson?"

"Dumbass.  Are you ready to start cooking?"

"Yeah.  That's why I got up so early," I said.  "Really, I just woke up naturally, but we might as well start."

"Start cleaning and cutting your vegetables.  Keep the eggplant in water, though, so it won't get black, and don't cut the skin off it.  Just make slices about a half inch thick."

"I think I'll make a breakfast run first," I said.  "We're not cooking breakfast this morning."

"Okay, but get a variety of biscuits, you hear," Rick said.

"I know," I said.  "How many people are here?"

"I think it's just the seven of us, isn't it," Rick said.

"Okay.  Jeff, you want to come with me?  We need to get dressed first, though."

"Sure," Jeff said.

We ran upstairs, got dressed, got the food, and were back in the house just a few minutes after Rick came back into the kitchen after his shower.  He was fully dressed, too.  The three of us ate, and I put the rest of the biscuits in the warming oven for the others.  I had gotten six ham, six steak, and six bacon, and six sausage biscuits.  Everybody liked those.

When we finished eating, Jeff moved into the den with his laptop.  I got the zip disks for him with the pictures on them, and he got busy.  Every room in that house had at least one network connection, so he could move around all day and still work, if he wanted to.

The first thing Rick and I did was to make the stuffed artichokes.  The rest was really easy, and I could do it by myself.  The artichokes, though, were brand new to me to make, and he had to show me how to do it from a real sketchy recipe from Odille.  We mixed up the stuffing using seasoned Italian breadcrumbs, grated Romano cheese, some super-fine minced garlic, a little salt, and olive oil.  We mixed up a batch of that stuff.  The secret was getting it to the right consistency.  It had to be wet enough with the oil that it stuck together when you made a ball of it, but dry enough that it wasn't dripping oil.

He showed me how to trim off the sharp points of the artichoke, how to wash them, and how to drain them real good.  Then we started spooning the filling between the leaves.  We had eight really big ones, and it took a while to fill all those leaves.  We had to make a second batch of filling, which we knew we would, and in about two hours we had them ready to cook.

You had to steam the artichokes until a leaf came out easily.  So much depended on the size of the critters and how many you were cooking that nobody could tell how long it would take.  He warned me not to let the water all boil out of the steaming pots, and I was careful to do that.  In about an hour, they were done.  He and I tasted a leaf each, brimming with filling, and I thought I was in heaven.  I knew I had to eat me one of those things for lunch.  I bought 'em, I cooked 'em, and I was going to eat me one.

I did all the other stuff that had to be done.  Some of it, such as cutting the vegetables for grilling and for the veggie trays, was time consuming, but it wasn't hard.  Then I remembered the damn cake around 11:30.

Jeff was working on the Web site, Kevin and Rick needed to hang around the house for the New Orleans people, in case they showed up soon, and Tim and Brian couldn't drive.  That just left my buddy Justin.  I scared up his ass in the clubhouse.  He was shooting pool by himself.  I told him what I needed, and he was happy to do it.

"Who's getting the oysters," he asked.

"Good question.  I hope Kevin remembered to order them.  Would you mind picking them up, too?  And four bags of ice?  On second thought, get ten bags of ice so we can have it on hand.  We'll need it for drinks and such tonight, too."

Kevin had remembered to order the oysters, and he told Jus where to go to get them.

"Guys, we need an ice machine in this house," I said.  "This having to remember to buy ice is for the birds."

Kevin and Rick laughed when I said that, but I was dead serious.  As many people as were in and out of that house, plus all the entertaining we did, we needed a damn ice machine.

"Who's going to open the oysters?  Have you thought about that," Rick asked me.

"The boys all know how to do it.  I taught 'em," I said.

"You're going to make Brian work at his own party," Kevin asked.

I knew it was a set-up, but I didn't yet see where it was going.

"Everybody can open their own," I said.

"You'd make your own mother open oysters for herself, Kyle?  I'm ashamed of you," Rick said.

"You'd make two surgeons, whose hands are worth millions, risk mutilation and infection just so they can eat," Kevin asked me.

I was damn sure stumped.  I knew Justin, Tim, and Jeff  would do it, but if I said that Kevin and Rick would come up with some reason they couldn't, either.

"You're right.  Let's don't have 'em.  We have plenty of other food," I said.

They were sitting next to each other on the sofa.  Rick grabbed my wrist and pulled me down between them.  They both started hugging on me.

"You know we're all going to pitch in and get it done, Kyle.  Man, you've worked your ass off on this party for us.  Do you think for one minute we'd let you down?"  That was Rick.

I was kind of laughing, but I really didn't think anything was all that funny.

"No, I know you won't let me down, but . . ."

"But what," Kevin said.

"But I didn't plan it good.  I need to think of stuff like that next time," I said.

"You're learning a hell of a lot, aren't you," Kevin said.

"Yes, sir, I am.  That's one reason I wanted to do this.  A pool party's one thing, and I think I've got that down pretty good.  But a real dinner party like this takes a whole lot more thinking, and I didn't even know some of the things I needed to think about."

"Kyle, one day you're going to be our boss, and we won't want to have to take you out and whip your ass in the woodshed for not knowing," Kevin said.

"That'll never happen, big brother," I said.

"No?  Why not," Rick asked.

"'Cause the day I take over, I'm firing your asses," I said.

"Ohhhh, he got you guys last bad," Justin said.

I was in the worst possible place for him to say that.  I was wedged between them on the sofa.  They pounced on me like a cat on a cricket, and they tickled me till I thought I was going to piss my pants.  I was screaming so loud that Jeff came in to see if I needed help.  They finally let up, and all three of us were out of breath, and it takes a hell of a lot of energy to get a marathoner like Rick out of breath.

I finally got Justin organized, and he took off in my car.  He was back in less than an hour, and that was really all the time I needed to get everything finished in the kitchen.  That was good, too, because the New Orleans people rolled in right at two o'clock.


(Kevin's Perspective)

Kyle was unbelievable.  He had worked all day on Friday, the day before the party, to get everything set up.  He had help, of course, in the persons of the maintenance guys and my secretary, to get the clubhouse set up for the party.  He also had help from Justin on Friday, but they had done some major shopping.  Rick and I had five combined years of restaurant experience at very nice places and nine combined years of hospitality administration, and it had been a real test of our skills to put on Thanksgiving dinner for twelve a few weeks before.  The party wasn't going to be anything close to that elaborate, but it was for thirty people, not a dozen.  In addition, we had had the main food catered at Thanksgiving, and the desserts were catered or donated.  With the exception of the cake, Kyle was also going to cook the party meal.  Rick and I were both ready to put on aprons at a moment's notice, but we didn't really think we'd have to.

Rick and I both felt kind of bad about Justin.  We were going to celebrate his passing the GED the next weekend when we went skiing in North Carolina, but neither of us had yet made much of it.  We hadn't called our parents to tell them, and we hadn't even told Gene and George about it.  Thank God Kyle had alerted my parents because I knew they would have been supremely pissed off at Rick and me if they hadn't known about it.  

Justin was so much more than appropriate when he got their gift.  I knew the way he acted made them very happy, and Brian and Tim were beside themselves, too, as were Kyle and Jeff.   I knew Justin had a savings account, but I thought we might have to give him some help with how to invest that money.  

The party was a great success.  All of the food was superb, but everybody raved about the stuffed artichokes and the cheese-sausage-tomato dip.  The grilled polish sausage slices were a hit, too.  Kyle had made those in the afternoon and had heated them in the oven right before he served them.  Rick, our "behind-the-line restaurant guy," hovered around to help where Kyle needed him, but he told me later he hadn't done much at all.

After dinner we had birthday cake and ice cream.  The cake was to die for, and the French vanilla ice cream with Chambord was a perfect compliment.  Then Brian opened his gifts.  He got a lot of clothes, which he needed (as we had learned from Kyle earlier that afternoon), books, CD's, a couple of video games.  My parents, Craig and Cherie, and George and Sonya gave him a computer, which he loved.  Gene and Rita gave him a check, amount undisclosed but, judging from his reaction, substantial.  Justin got as excited about our gift to Brian as Brian did.  Jus and Kyle grabbed each other in a hug and danced around when Justin found out that it was a week-long trip to New York City and that he was included.  Jus knew Tim and Kyle were going, too.  

The gifts Brian liked best, though, were the airplanes.  He opened the Sturdy Birdy first.  It was from Rick and me, and he just about had a fit.  Then he opened the Sky Trick from Kyle and Tim.  

"Let's put it up," he shouted.

Brian started toward the door, and Tim and a couple of others followed him.

"Hey, wait," Kyle shouted.  They all stopped moving and focused on Kyle.

"This party is just beginning.  If I can get my brothers to help me, in a few minutes we're going to have these tables moved, and this is going to be our dance floor.  Chad and Gage are the dance masters here, along with my brother Justin, and they'll lead everybody who wants to dance.

"You see to my right a wonderful pool table and a ping pong table.  We have chart paper to keep track of tournaments, should anybody be interested.  

"There's a basketball goal outside and two or three basketballs around here.  It's not very cold out there, so maybe some people might be interested in a little 1-on-1?  It could happen.

"There is an unbelievable weight room that my parents gave us for Christmas through that door right over there.  I know that lifting weights isn't exactly an after-dinner party activity, but let me just say this."  He did a stage whisper.  "Clothing optional."

Everybody laughed.

"Okay.  I've saved the best to last.  My brother, Jeff Martin, has spent this entire day working on a Web site for this family.   There isn't a person here whose picture won't be on that site.  I haven't had a chance to talk to Jeff to find out what he and Kevin decided about pictures of us nude at our pool parties, but . . ."

He made his face into a mock seductive leer, and everybody screamed with laughter.  It was Brian's party, but it was definitely Kyle's night.

"Where are the computers, Jeff," he asked.

"The den, the dining room, the living room, and out here," Jeff called out.

"Look for frequent updates.  It's Foley-Mashburn dot com.  That should be easy to remember, but it's a hyphen between Foley and Mashburn.  Have fun tonight in honor of my brother, our birthday boy, Brian Mathews."

There was a big round of applause for Kyle.

I jumped up to talk before they had finished clapping.

"I want you all to know something."  I grabbed Kyle around the shoulders.  "This boy right here, our Kyle, did everything for this party.  He made the guest list, he planned the food, he bought the food, he cooked the food, and he served the food tonight.  You are our family, and our family needs to give this Kyle boy a standing ovation."

They all stood and clapped for Kyle.  I was so proud of him I was about to burst, and I knew Rick felt the same way I did.  Maybe more.  His parents, Rick, Tim, Jeff, and George had tears of pride streaming down their faces.

Kyle overcame his shyness pretty quick.

"Three rules.  One.  No more speeches.  Two.  The bar is open.  Three.  Everybody has to have fun."

It was 9:30 on a Saturday night, and I knew our friends and family would party on for several more hours.   

The next morning I expected a mess.  When I got downstairs, the only thing I found was stacks of clean dishes and silverware on the counters, a fresh pot of coffee, and my mother.

"Good morning.  Did you rest well," I asked as I poured myself some coffee.

"Good morning.  Yes, but I think I've gotten more aerobic exercise in the last month dancing with your kids than I have in the last year put together," she said.

"You like those kids, don't you, Mom," I said.

"No, Kevin.  I don't like those kids.  I love those kids.  They're my grandchildren, son, and I thank you and Rick for giving them to me."

"You and Dad have been so good to them, and so generous."

"Well, they've had so little, and we can afford to spoil them."

"Justin was poor, but some of them have had quite a lot.  Like Kyle.  Mom, that boy is rich in his own right, never mind what his parents have," I said.

"I'm not surprised, but you'd certainly never know it from the way he behaves, would you?"

"No, and that's a tribute to him and to Gene and Rita.  He worked his butt off on that party.  Can you believe a seventeen-year-old boy could put on something like he did last night?  And almost single-handedly?"

"Yeah, that's pretty remarkable," she said.

Tim and Kyle came down the back stairs just then, dressed only in their briefs.  When they saw my mother in the kitchen, they turned fast and ran up the stairs, laughing.  They came back down fully dressed in a couple of minutes.

They both kissed Mom good morning, and then they got themselves some coffee.

"Where's Rick," Kyle asked.

"He was still asleep when I got up," I said.  "Aren't you guys tired?  Especially you, Kyle."

They both shrugged.  

"Do you want me to cook," Kyle asked.

"Aren't you tired of cooking," I asked.

"No, I'll do it.  I'll make some scrambled eggs and warm up the sausage left over from last night and put it all in this warming pan.  We can just set it out, and people can eat when they're ready.  Does that sound good," Kyle asked.  He had used a warming pan from the hotel the night before, and it was clean and on the counter.

"Yeah, if you don't mind doing it," I said.

"Kevin, we've got a houseful of people who are going to be hungry when they wake up.  Everybody's always hungry the morning after a big meal like last night.  Why is that, Grandma," he asked.

"To tell you the truth, I don't know.  I probably should know, and maybe I even did, once upon a time.  Ask Grandpa.  He might know," she said.

Kyle and Tim got busy.  He scrambled three dozen eggs and supplemented them with a carton of egg whites.  He warmed the sausage slices in the microwave for a couple of minutes.

"Tim, put some bread in a basket, and take this toaster out to the dining room.  People can make their own toast as they need it," Kyle instructed.

"Okay.  Butter and jelly and all that, too?"

"Yeah.  Make sure you plug the toaster in," Kyle said.

In twenty minutes, they had breakfast ready for the eleven people who were in our house.  Mom and I, and the two boys, went ahead and ate at the breakfast room table.  When we were finished, Mom went upstairs to get Dad and Craig and Cherie so they could get on the road pretty soon.  Tim excused himself, too.  Kyle got our plates taken care of.

"Sit down.  I want to talk to you," I said to Kyle.

He got an apprehensive look on his face.

"Kyle, I can't tell you how proud of you Rick and I are," I started.

He grinned.  "Phew!  I thought I was in trouble."

"Far from it, Bubba.  You were terrific with the party.  There aren't many guys your age who could have done that, and you did it like a champion."

"Thanks, Kevin.  It makes me feel good to hear that."  He was blushing a little bit, but his grin told me he was happy.

"Well, you should be proud of yourself, son.  We are."

"I think everybody had a good time, don't you?"

"Yeah, I know they did," I said.  "I sure did."

"Brian really liked his presents, too.  Did you take a turn flying the plane?  That is really cool."

"No, but I will.  He told me he wants me to fly it.  What are you going to do today?"

"I guess I need to get all this stuff back to the hotel, and Jeff's going to teach me how to update the Web page," he said.

"We'll get all this stuff taken back tomorrow, so don't worry about that.  Do you have any homework?"

"I don't know.  I wasn't in school Friday.  The only hard thing I'm taking right now is trig, though.  But even that isn't as hard as Algebra II was last semester.  This is going to be it for math, though.  I'm not taking calculus next year."

"Can you call somebody to find out about homework," I asked.

"Not really.  Morgan Crawford is the only person I know in trig, and he wasn't there Friday, either."

"Well, just make sure you make up what you missed, okay?"

"I will.  I always do."  Pause.  "I want to talk to you about something."

"What's that?"

"Some people at school have been talking to me about running for SGA president for next year.  I wanted to know what you thought about that," he said.

"SGA?  What is that?"

"Student Government Association."

"Wow!  Who's been talking to you?"

"The sponsor, for one, and the principal, too.  Some kids, too," he said.

"Have you been active in student government," I asked.  I knew he and Tim stayed busy with scouts and school activities, but I wasn't really aware of exactly what they were involved in, except the Drama Club.

"Well, I've been in it, if that's what you mean?  I'm the junior class rep this year."

"I didn't know that," I said.

"There's a lot about me you don't know, buddy," he said, grinning devilishly. 

"I'll bet there is," I said.  "Do you want to do it?"

"Yeah, I kinda do.  Last year only one person ran, so she's the president this year.  The one guy who says he's going to run is a real prick, and I'd hate for him to get it without an election, you know?"

"What does Tim think about it?"

"He wants me to do it.  All my friends want me to do it."

"When is the election," I asked.

"Oh, not until the first week of May, so there's plenty of time.  But if I'm going to run, I want to put the word out early so people can be thinking about me.  Oh, did you talk to Jeff about the Web page?"

"Yeah, I did.  Rick and I both talked to him together, in fact.  We talked to Craig about it, too.  From the legal point of view.  I guess you're wondering about the nude pictures, right?"

He nodded.

"They're some great pictures.  Craig said what I thought I already knew, which is that nudity per se isn't illegal, even nude pictures of minors.  Any sex involving minors is out, though."

"I know that.  Those pictures of me that Justin took when I was shooting pool and got hard aren't really sex pictures, but I think we probably don't want any boners, even natural ones, right?"

"Yeah, that would be my call, and I know those pictures of you aroused aren't sex pictures, Bubba.  Justin was just being a bad boy," I said.

He chuckled.  "I was being a bad boy, too, but I didn't get hard from sex--that time, at least."

"Anyway, we need to get signed permission from parents, or from the person himself if he's an adult, before we put up any nudes.  Jeff suggested password protection.  How do you feel about that?"

"This site is mainly just for us and our families and friends.  I realize anybody can probably find it, but who would be interested?  But, yeah, the password is a good idea.  For the whole site, in fact, really."

"Okay, well, work with Jeff on that."

"I will, and thanks," he said as he got up to leave.

"Thank you again for the party, Bubba."

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