“Good boy.” I handed him the cheese sandwich. “With good manners.”
He giggled. “I’m a good boy.”
7. MALCOLM
The connection we shared happened surprisingly quick, and part of me, the negative part which needed to be squashed away told me it was too quick, and I shouldn’t have been addressing him as Daddy. I should’ve had him on some type of probationary period to see if he was the right guy for me.
But he was. And I didn’t know how to explain that to myself, I just had to.
Back at the bed and breakfast, Elijah prepared food for dinner. He was making a pie. He’d been slow cooking beef in a rich gravy which he allowed me to try. It was divine, he’d told me he added red wine and chocolate to it as well, but I assumed that was a lie—or a joke, until I saw both items amongst the rest of the ingredients cornered together on the kitchen counter.
“Did you apply more sunscreen?” he asked, and I knew he didn’t need any Daddy probation, he was perfect. And I hadn’t applied anymore. “I’ve got some in the van. You’ll need to lather it on everywhere. And I can help.” He ticked every box… and then some.
Then it was time to demolish the porch. I’d been given a pair of boots that were a size too big, and a bright yellow pair of gloves to keep myself from getting splinters when handling the wood. But before I could even begin, I was advised to step back while the wood awning came down. Then I was allowed to approach and help dismantle the rest of it.
Under the afternoon sun, we accomplished a lot, and Elijah made sure we took regular breaks for water because hydration was key. I wondered if he was taking that approach because of the role he was playing, or whether that was just who he was. Either way, I accepted the water breaks and allowed mymind to create plans for what I wanted on the front of the house now.
“Another porch would be easy to do,” he said. “But that had to come down.” He gave the pile of broken wood a kick. “This stuff can’t even be reused. It’s all weakened and old.”
Lucky under the porch there were steps that must’ve been there from before the porch. I wondered how long the porch had been around, especially since I couldn’t recall a time without it. But then again, my memory wasn’t the best from such a young age.
We got the entire porch into chopped pieces at the side of the fence when we called it a day. It was more physically demanding than I imagined. The idea was to come here, paint it, live, and create art. I didn’t think about an overgrown yard or parts of the house would need replacing, but my folks had warned me it would be a big task and if it got too much I should just sell it.
Back at the bed and breakfast, I took a shower and enjoyed the cold water. I’d found a small tan forming across my face that seemed to look a little like dirt from where it hadn’t tanned near my hairline. I’d even scrubbed at it half thinking it was dirt, but the same darkening tan appeared at where my sleeves ended on my upper arms.
Over the next couple of days, we’d managed to make a lot of progress. The fence will removed, the grass in the yard was cut back, paving stones were revealed, and all of the old wood was taken to the dump, or recycled.
I’d started unpacking the contents of my U-Haul into the house while Elijah drew up plans to create a new front porch and fence. We worked together, but I tried not getting in his way since my skills were best with a paint brush and pot of paint. His skills were in wood working and applying as much strength with each of his hammer whacks and thuds.
After a week, I’d moved in. I had a bed, mattress, and there was running water and electricity. The biggest issue was a new boiler, which would have to wait. The fence was complete and the porch was slowly progressing, built by the side of the house until it could be attached. I knew Elijah was a man in demand, and I didn’t want to take him away from the town completely.
Driving back from the U-Haul rental, a place on the outskirts of town, I stopped by the bed and breakfast to see Elijah. And as I entered through the front, I was met with Ezekiel.
“I thought you’d left,” he said. “Did you leave something—”
“No, I’m here to see Elijah,” I said. “Is he—”
“Oh, he’s out back,” he said, his eyes squinting as he stared at me. “If you’re taking him to your place, make sure he’s back for dinner. David and Reynard were complaining yesterday.”
I just nodded, those two had given me the same glare from the first day we’d met, and I didn’t want to get caught in their eyes again.
One of the benefits to having Elijah work on my house was that our connection was kept secret. We’d only explored a surface level so far, referring to each other in the traditional terms of Daddy and boy, while not really engaging in anything much further than that.
In a workshop shed at the back of the house, Elijah was working with a machine to shop wood. The occasional screeching zip as the saw sliced through it was near deafening. I stayed in the doorway and waited patiently for him to see me.
He cut the machine off and approached, removing the protective eyewear and gloves. He was in a tight white vest with his hair on display. He glistened with sweat as he came out intothe scorching mid-afternoon light. The smell of wood and musk on his skin like an alpine forest, it was divine.
“Just finishing up these bird houses and then I’ll be able to come over,” he said.
I shook my head. “That’s ok, I actually wanted to invite you over tonight, after you’ve done your stuff here, I wanted to spend the evening with you. If you wanted to, that is.”
“Of course, I do,” he said, plucking the sweaty vest away from his chest and springing it back. “It’ll have to be much later on though.”
“Perfect. I’m going to arrange the living room and stuff, but I have something I wanted to give you for everything you’ve already done,” I told him. “And obviously, I’m paying you once it’s all done.”
“Ok, and I’ll have something for you as well, later, that is.” He winked at me. “I’ll drop these off at the community center first, so how about we call it eight. I’ll be there.”
“Perfect.” I blew him a kiss. “I can’t wait.”