Chapter 80
Barry wasn’t through however. “And do you know why they came to eat at the Double J?”
Still nothing from the old cowboy.
“Because I made them feel welcome. I gave them room at my table. I’m sure there’s something in the Good Book about that. And where were you, what were you doing when my food and my company was making people happy? You were here, alone, stewing in your hate and bigotry.”
Still Frank didn’t say anything.
“Does your hatred keep you warm at night?”
Frank slammed a fist on the table. “I’m sure with three men fucking each other’s asses in your bed you’ll be plenty warm enough.”
Bess put her hand to her mouth. “Oh, Barry, I’m so sorry. Frank, I will never forgive you for that.”
“It’s okay, Bess. You don’t owe me an apology. Yes, Mr. Wilson, my bed is warm. Because it’s filled with love, tolerance, and acceptance. Alien concepts to you I’m sure.”
“Screw you.”
“No thank you.” Barry could have used a coarser comeback, but Bess was present.
Frank didn’t say anything so Barry returned to the bowl of potatoes.
“Now where were we? Oh yes. I use an electric hand mixer to mash my spuds. Gets all the lumps out and it’s easier on the wrist.”
“You’d know all about weak wrists,” Frank sneered.
“That’s enough!” Bess said, slapping her hand on the table. “You have been nothing but rude to Barry ever since you’ve come in.
“It was another weak-wristed faggot who tackled you to the ground in this very kitchen a month ago. Remember that?” Barry challenged.
Frank just glared.
“I think I better go, Bess. You can take it from here I’m sure.” Barry wiped his hands on a dish towel.
“I’m so sorry. Frank’s not usually like this, he’s…”
Barry shook his head. “He is. But that’s not your fault, Bess. One day I hope he’ll realize he’s…” He sighed.
Bess gave Barry a hug. “I’m still sorry.”
Barry kissed her cheek. “I’ll be here day after tomorrow just before ten, okay?”
“You still want to, after…?” She looked over at her husband who had gone back to pretending to read.
“Of course. Your therapy is important.”
“Thank you.”
Before he left, Barry decided to poke the bear one more time. “Good afternoon, Mr. Wilson. It’s been so much fun visiting with you.”
“Fuck you.”
This time Barry couldn’t resist a snappy reply. “Oh, God, no. I’m not sure you’d know how. Besides, I’ve got two much better offers.”
* * * *
At least Jake was more forthcoming about what he wanted for his birthday meal than Jimmy had been.
“Steak,” the cowboy had simply stated.
“And kidney?” Barry said, grinning. “I’ve got a great recipe for…Jake, put me down! What are you doing?”
Barry soon found out when he was bent over Jake’s knee, his ass receiving two hard swats.
“You guys have got a weird thing going on with this reverse birthday spanking thing,” Barry said, trying to hide the woody poking the front of his pants.
“I want rare steak and lots of it.”
“Half a cow, then.”
“Each,” Jake added.
“And your birthday cake?”
“Yes.”
Barry shook his head. Because he had a pretty good idea what he wanted to make, he was glad Jake hadn’t made any specific requests.
* * * *
In the end, Barry decided it would be easier to cook the steaks on the grill outside. Even though it was several degrees below zero. Barry still thought in terms of Celsius, his efforts to become more American refused to go as far as using an outdated temperature scale.
“I wouldn’t do this for just anyone, you know,” Barry told a grinning Jake as the cowboy stood in the kitchen doorway while Barry froze his ass off by the grill.
“Come inside,” Jake told Barry after a couple of minutes. “The steaks will be just fine on their own for a while.”
Barry agreed; he had other things to prepare in the kitchen. “Rex, keep an eye on these. But,” he waved a finger at the dog, “don’t you dare touch them.”
Jake had asked Barry to keep the meal simple as they’d be having a big feast on Christmas Day. Part of Barry understood the rationale behind the request, but he was sure Jake had had to make do with low-key celebrations his whole life because of his birthday’s proximity to the holidays.
Barry tried for a compromise. His red-clothed cowboy deserved a proper celebration, every bit as good as the one Jimmy had enjoyed. But Barry also had to take note of the timing. Too much rich food and his men would be putting on weight.