by Alice Ward
“Why don’t we make our way down to the lake,” KP suggested.
“Oh goody,” Wenton cheered, “yeah, they have boat races today!”
We slowly strolled down the hill through the grass to the small lake on the property. KP explained that it was a man-made lake just for the patients at the facility. Wenton loved it because it reminded him of home.
On the lake were large inflatable paddleboats. Each one was manned with a kindly looking staff member who wielded an oar. Behind them sat a patient or a patient and their guests. Two or more boats would “race” one another to the other side of the shore, then race each other back. People looked like they were having fun. I think Wenton wanted to try.
“We can win,” Wenton said, enthusiastically.
“Of course we can,” KP agreed.
KP walked over to the person in charge of the races and had a brief conversation with them. When he returned, he took off his coat and handed it to me, rolling up his sleeves.
“Do you mind holding this?” The way he looked at me caused my stomach to twist.
“You bet.”
God, he looked good in his shirt sleeves. His arms were so lean and strong. They were also slightly tanned, giving him a golden glow. Wenton, seeing his brother take off his jacket, struggled to get out of his windbreaker. It was a little heartbreaking to see the difference in the brothers. Wenton was pale and thin compared to KP, who was like a Greek statue. But I was sure Wenton could care less about the difference.
KP plastered a competitive grin on his face as he helped Wenton get into the boat. As soon as they were both aboard, I gave them a wave. Wenton flapped his hands back and forth and KP saluted. At the whistle, their boat flew across the water. KP effortlessly rowed them to victory.
When they reached the other side, clear winners, Wenton stood up and started jumping up and down on the boat, much to KP’s horror. He was able to keep the boat stable and got Wenton calmed down. When Wenton was seated again, KP rowed them back across and they both won a ribbon. Wenton was so proud of himself and KP looked happy as they shook hands with the losers. Actually, Wenton hugged the losers.
Before they returned, KP spoke with a staff member and pointed to boats that were not being used. The conversation consisted of a lot of head shaking, but that man was persistent, and soon after his conversation ended, he had waved to us to come join him.
“We can have this boat. I thought we would do a little boating and have a picnic on the other side.” He seemed very excited by the idea.
I was too. The thought of going back to the karaoke bonanza was almost scary. Within a few minutes, as we were pulling the boat off the shore and into the water, one of Wenton’s staff members had brought us a cooler.
“Here, Mr. Preston,” he said as he walked over. “We’ve prepared three lunches.”
He was very stiff and formal, actually uncomfortably so. He was probably much more accustomed to nursing than waiting tables. KP was jovial and friendly as he accepted the cooler and helped us load it and ourselves into the boat.
“I wanna row this time,” Wenton volunteered.
KP gave him the oars, sat back, and enjoyed the ride for a few minutes. It was such a tiny lake, but if Wenton stayed seated, he would be fine rowing around as long as he didn’t get near the racers. I kept a close eye on him, ready to jump in if he started to look too tired. We parked the boat near a shady spot with a nice patch of grass and set out our picnic.
“I’m starving,” Wenton announced, and I noticed that he looked really pale and weak. He had seemed fine just a few moments ago.
“Me too.”
But instead of eating, Wenton laid down in the grass. After a few minutes, he drifted off to sleep.
“Is he okay?” I asked, more than a little concerned.
KP looked torn. If I were in his shoes, I would have been torn too. There was a fine line between letting a person you love enjoy their life while also protecting them.
“Let’s give him some time to rest, then I’ll wake him up and makes sure he eats his lunch.” KP gave me a sandwich and a big smile that seemed forced.
“Thanks.”
“Wenton’s chef made these, so you won’t be going home with a tummy bug at least.”
He was joking, at least I hoped he was joking. “You’re horrible,” I teased.
“No, seriously, all that macaroni salad and the sun is not a good idea.”
I laughed. I could tell he was raised around money because normal things like family day picnics with flies, heat, and food left out in the sun were like boot camp for him.
“I think we’ll survive,” I assured him as I took a bite of my sandwich. Ugh. I swallowed the lump. “Bologna, my favorite.” I was a total liar. And maybe I had higher expectations from a chef.
We sat together, enjoying the good weather and being outdoors. I noticed a family of ducks on the water and pointed them out to KP. “Look at how cute those little baby ducks are.”
But he wasn’t looking at them. He was looking at me. “Not as cute as you.”
His eyes fell to my lips, and all the air was sucked out of my lungs. I forced myself to look away, and the direction my eyes took me wasn’t helpful. They fell to his crotch. The growing crotch. The bulging crotch. He sat up and set his plate in his lap, and my lips quirked as he tried to hide his erection.
“It was nice meeting your grandmother today.”
I almost laughed. If we were going to play the “ignore your big boner game,” I was up for it. “I think she likes you.”
“I hope I get some time to get to know her.” Before she dies was left hanging in the air.
“Well, considering you invited yourself over for tea, I think you will.” Wow… that sounded more bitchy and bitter than I’d intended.
He gave me an I can’t figure you out look, and I relented. “Tammy is ditching me tonight for her boyfriend, so I would love the company. I’m worried about Gran these days, she doesn’t seem to be doing very well.”
“If I’m honest, she didn’t look too good, so we’ll make tonight fun. I’ll arrange for a hotel when we get back to Wenton’s cottage. I don’t want to worry about my driver. Maybe we can pick up some dinner.”
“That sounds fun. She likes to watch old horror movies and creepy shit from the eighties so maybe we can have a little movie time with her too. It’s her favorite thing.”
“Sounds fun, we can do whatever you wish.”
My eyes slid to his brother. “That sounds perfect. Do you think we should wake Sleeping Beauty?”
“Let’s give him a few more minutes,” KP said as he shifted uncomfortably, probably trying to accommodate his cock, which seemed to just be getting in the way of everything.
It was hard to ignore his struggle. “How’s not having sex with anyone working out for you?” I teased, hoping it was the right approach.
KP threw his head back and growled at the sky.
“Excruciating. I don’t think I’ve ever gone this long,” he confessed.
I patted his thigh. “Poor guy.” That was honest. I really did feel sorry for him. I couldn’t imagine having the evidence of my desire for KP on full display like that.
“Sorry, I keep trying to think of something to help tame this monster, but I can’t get it to go away.” He seemed really embarrassed.
“I really don’t know how to help you.” As soon as I said it, I realized how funny it was.
“Well…” he gave me a helpless look and we both broke out in guffaws.
It was funny and awkward, but mostly funny. Damn. I really liked this side of him.
“Glad we can joke about this.”
“I’m glad you can joke about this.”
“You wanna hug or something?” I said in my best imitation of a camp counselor.
“Woman!” He gave me a don’t even play with me kind of look.
As fun as it was to tease him, bringing us back to reality was probably the best course of action. “Maybe we should wake
up Wenton. I’m kind of worried about him,”
KP looked down at his lap and I tried not to laugh as he pushed himself into a standing position. Turning his back on me, he walked over to Wenton. “Hey there big guy.”
When Wenton stirred, I started to breathe more easily. He still looked pale but less lethargic. KP gave him his lunch, and they walked over to sit beside me.
“Rowing is hard work,” Wenton said with a yawn.
“But you got us here. This is a nice spot.”
“Yep, I’m a rock star.” Wenton grinned but not as big as earlier.
On the other side of the lake, people were starting to filter out of the facility. The races had ended and it looked like the staff was starting to pack up. It was probably two o’clock or so. While we didn’t feel pressure to leave just yet, it did seem like the day was coming to an end. I tried to think of a way to buy us a little more time.
“You guys want to play charades? I have an app on my phone,” I suggested.
“I hate charades,” Wenton blurted out.
“Good.” KP smiled as he sneered at me.
How could I have forgotten his condition? It made me laugh.
“Okay,” I backed down.
“You wanna play Uno? I brought it in my backpack,” Wenton offered.
I whispered to KP, “That should do the trick.”
He flashed me a grin. “Sure, let’s play.”
We played Uno for about an hour, then KP rowed us back to the shores of the facility. Wenton looked exhausted but assured us he had “the best day ever.” Neither of us believed him. It wasn’t the company that stopped us from really enjoying ourselves, it was the situation.
While I had thought a game of cards wouldn’t be too taxing, Wenton was completely exhausted so we put him to bed at around four. He’d lost all the color in his face and his breathing was slow and labored. Wenton’s doctor assessed his condition and decided that bed rest and some intravenous nutrition would give him the boost he needed. The doctor then called KP away and they left the room. I sat next to Wenton and just stroked his hair while he fell asleep.
“I’m so tired I could sleep for a week,” he half slurred as his eyes slowly drooped closed.
“Sleep well,” I said as I continued to rub his head.
Within moments, he was sleeping soundly. While Wenton slept and KP was with the doctor, I texted Tammy to check in on Gran. According to her reply, they were having a nice day together. Gran was in good spirits and had more energy than she had seen her have in a long time. That good news made me feel better.
When KP came back into the room, he looked like he hadn’t gotten very good news. Clearly his little problem, or big one, however you wanted to put it, had gone away and he was quiet and subdued.
“Is everything okay?” I asked as we headed back to the car where the driver was waiting for us.
“Just not the greatest news,” was all he shared.
I ran my hand up and down his back. “Do you want to stay with him?”
“No, it’s not new news, just not great news. I guess you always hope things will be different or get better. People don’t have all of the answers, and you pray they’re wrong. Anyway, Wenton and I made a pact with each other. We wouldn’t think about tomorrow, we’d focus only on today. His philosophy is… if you worry about the future, you miss the moments and mourn their loss. I’ve been worried about Wenton my whole life. I’m not going to worry anymore. I’m just going to live in the moment as I’d promised him I would. However, we should probably finish the portrait soon. I’d really like to have it.” He wasn’t sad, just distant.
“Of course, I think I’ll be able to finish it by next week,” I assured him.
He gave me a gorgeous smile.
“Thanks. Not just for the painting, but for being here, for all of this. You certainly didn’t need to take this on.”
“Yes, I did. I love Wenton.” And was falling for his brother.
“Yeah, he’s amazing. So, is it really okay if I join you tonight?” I loved the new and improved, no-sex pushing KP. He was polite and human.
“Yes, I’m looking forward to it. We just have to hit the grocery store before we get home.” If KP and Wenton could live in the moment, I could too.
We were going to have fun tonight. Despite everything, Gran and I didn’t live in a mental health facility. We had our own home and we could throw down a mean dinner party together.
“This should be exciting,” he said with a note of trepidation.
“Wow, you really do have a problem,” I teased.
“Not that kind of exciting.” He winced a little as he looked at me. “I’ve never actually been grocery shopping at a proper grocery store to buy food for a dinner that I intended to make, cook, and eat.”
My jaw sagged. “You have to be kidding.” Surely, he was kidding.
He chucked me softly under the chin. “Nope, not kidding.” I loved when he was playful.
“Never? How the hell does one get away with that?”
“I’m KP, remember,” he said and beat his chest. “Me famous movie producer.”
I laughed at his Tarzan impersonation. “You mean the lame-o who’s never been inside of a grocery store?”
He gave me a mock insulted look. “I’ve been in one, just never bought anything I intended on cooking,” he corrected.
I rubbed my hands together. “Oh, this will be exciting.”
We arrived at the grocery store, and as an amusing joke, I decided to cook breaded catfish for dinner, almost the same meal KP had when he first propositioned me. He didn’t say anything, but I could tell he saw the irony there. I decided that we should have corn on the cob, and if Gran was up to it, her famous apple pie à la mode. I was getting excited just thinking of the meal. In order to satisfy KP’s gourmet palate, I picked up some fancy hors d’oeuvres like caviar, crackers, and expensive stinky cheese. I let him pick the wine, as I really was way out of my league there.
The whole shopping experience was comical. I was feeling a little bold so I typed out a shopping list on my new iPhone and handed it to him.
“You have a new hunt.” I waggled my brow at him. “I’ll stay by your side for moral support, but you have to get all the items on this list. Shall we make this a timed exercise?”
Sensing the challenge, KP agreed to collect the items on the list in under twenty minutes. “Shall there be a reward if I succeed?” God, the man was walking seduction.
“Yes, there shall,” I mentioned in a regal tone.
He perked up.
“What shall it be?” he asked with a deep sultry voice.
This man must have just been hardwired for sex.
“Dinner,” I announced in my best school head mistress voice. “Ready, set…”
“Wait, I’m not ready,” he freaked.
I rolled my eyes. “What do you need to get ready?” He was such a domestic wuss.
“I have to look at the aisle markers, plan my strategy.”
That deserved an even bigger eye roll. “Okay, Martha, do what you must.”
He looked up at the headings over each aisle and then back to the phone. He highlighted a few items. After a few minutes, he loosened up his shoulders and put his game face on.
“I’m ready.” He leaned in like a prizefighter.
“Then go.”
And go he went.
I was quite impressed with his strategy; he was finding a lot of what we needed. He just grabbed things that were the most expensive most of the time.
I quipped as we went along, “God forbid if you were on a budget.”
He whirled on me. “You said nothing about a budget.”
I held up a placating hand. “Okay, as you were soldier, you still have nine minutes and half a list to go. Focus.”
I lied. He had eleven. Just wanted to put a little fear of God in him.
KP in full panic mode was hilarious. “What?”
Yes, this was fun.
He did great
all the way up until the last items — the wine he was tasked with choosing — and then it all threatened to go to shit. Somebody recognized him back in the produce aisle and was trailing us. He caught on much faster than I did. KP seemed to get more tense as they continued their pursuit. Finally, in the wine aisle, there was a confrontation.
“I’m sorry to bother you,” the interloper interjected.
“Then don’t.” I winced at how rude he sounded.
“No need to get testy,” the fan snapped.
KP took a deep breath and I could see him changing course. “Can I help you with something?”
“My wife and I loved ‘From Adam to Eve,’ and I just wanted you to sign my back.” He produced a sharpie pen, gave it to KP, turned around, and bent over.
KP shot me a this happens all the time look and signed a scrawling signature on the back of his shirt. The dude seemed satisfied, and I thought he was going to leave us in peace.
Before he came back.
“Actually, we loved the movie, it was much better than the book, but well, my wife wanted to know why you hired a Latina actress to play the lead?” Wow, that was bold. “We always envisioned her as being…you know, American.”
KP’s face immediately darkened two shades and had a glowing red color. Oh shit.
It wasn’t just his dick that reacted to stuff.
“You mean Maricela Cruz? The Oscar-winning actress from Boston?” He was very carefully measuring his words.
“Yeah. Did you never think of Charlize Theron?” Was this guy serious?
“That would be the Charlize Theron from South Africa you’re referring to?”
KP was keeping his cool, but I suspected it wouldn’t last long.
“Yeah, she’s fucking hot.” The guy was almost panting.
KP’s jaw was clenched together so tight, I thought he might break his teeth. “No. Now, please let me finish my shopping, we’re in a bit of a hurry.”
“Yeah, sure, just one more th—”
I couldn’t take it anymore. “Listen weirdo…” probably shouldn’t have said that, “the man said to fuck off. You’ve got your t-shirt thing, so scram.”
Holy shit. I was all up in this guy’s face. What was I doing?