Safe and Sane

Time off work, and James had a visit to return. Bag stowed safely, it was a glorious morning to be out on the bike, and on something he'd never admit to being more than a whim, he pulled into the driveway of the house he'd discovered Jason was staying in, spray of gravel as he pulled up and kicked the stand down. Silence sudden as he killed the engine, James pulled off his helmet, and waited to see if the noise would bring Jason out, or if he'd need to go in.

The weather had been up and down -- freezing cold, not bad, and, if the forecasters were correct, outright pleasant for the rest of the week. The crew at the coffee shop had given up trying to predict what was going to sell and had decided to just offer everything up. Hot, spiced, cold, chocolate. If you wanted it, you could have it.

So his sister was in town and Jack was not avoiding her. Or running away. He was taking advantage of the fact that he had time to indulge and getting to know the club again. That's why he was here, studying more checklists, paper fanned out on the coffee table in front of him, elbows on his knees. Worn jeans and a t-shirt and work boots covered him, so he wasn't dressed to impress. He was comfortable. Just. Comfortable.

And curious enough to look up when the door opened. "Hey."

Another Wednesday, another munch night. Evenings were beginning to draw in, with fall nipping at the air, temperatures beginning to drop as soon as the sun had sunk below the horizon. The cafe had responded with a range of spiced coffees, hot soup, and cookies and muffins still warm from the oven.

And, of course, the infamous chili spiced hot chocolate.

At last. The final element of Beth's venture was ready to open, the gallery ready to her satisfaction and Jason's, and displaying (after a certain amount of discussion) a selection of pieces created by each of the artists who would later be holding their own show in the gallery.

The cafe was brightly lit against the dull weather outside, and the store was still open downstairs, but the focus for today was on the gallery, the seating area at one end, and the works on display (and sale) there.

Yael was on a couch in the common room, flipping through a newspaper, brow furrowed faintly in concentration. There was a bottle of water on the table in front of him and he had one foot braced against its edge. Not in a hurry or a noticably bad temper. Just. Reading.

Beth hadn't been exaggerating when she'd told Jason that the store was ready to open. The kitchen had been tested out, the chiller cabinets were chilling, the coffee machine had been installed and both Beth and Dotty had learned how to use it properly. Six tables were set out neatly in the front of the store, and tucked at the back, next to the counter, was a plain, solid, black fire door. Beyond which, Beth had faithfully promised and signed her name to the local authorities, no one under the age of twenty one would pass.

Which was going to be fun when it came to Bobby and Charlie, but never mind.

A few of the less obviously adult books were stacked on racks in front of the counter, and Beth was tucked away behind that door, down the stairs, on her knees scrubbing display cases and surrounded by cardboard boxes, while she waited for Jason.

Leaves brushed Jason's palms as he walked up the path leading to Yael's house, his arms outstretched to catch the branches of the well-groomed landscaping. The day had been gorgeous and he'd spent most of it in Chris' pool, taking advantage of the fact that Chris seemed to be home less and less to strip down and soak up the sun.

He wasn't sure about just stopping by, but he'd called and not gotten an answer. The tickets he'd planned to give Yael were in his pocket and he could just as easily leave them with a note if Yael wasn't home, but it'd been awhile, and so on impulse, he'd driven over.

Ringing the doorbell, he stepped back a bit to be visible and listened for footsteps.

From: bethyjen @ googlemail.com
To: "Gale"
Subject: A proposition or possibly a request

Hello Gale, it's been rather a while since I've seen you around. I hope everything's going well for you, and Oscar? It would be lovely to see you again soon and perhaps talk about a few things if you've got time and you're willing?

love,
Beth


From: bethyjen @ googlemail.com
To: "Charlie"
Subject: Um

Well, I'm terrible at these subject line things, anyway, darling, you know that by now. Anyway, I know you're horribly busy at the moment with the end of term and everything and probably family and things as well but, well, there's something that I probably need to talk to you about and if you could possibly find time and ring me or something that would be perfectly lovely.

love,
Beth xx


From: beth @ differentstrokes.com
To: "Jason"
Subject: Yes, I really did

Hello darling,

You probably don't remember but we had a conversation a while back about possibly setting up a gallery in the same building as a coffee shop and toy shop that I might possibly be trying to start and, well, the coffee shop opens next week and the toy shop's well under way. Could you maybe be so kind as to spare time to come and look at the gallery space and advise me?

I do hope you're doing well, it's been far too long since I talked to you.

love,
Beth


From: bethyjen @ googlemail.com
To: "Gus"
Subject: Wish you were here

I'm late.

B.

Juneteenth was still a couple days away, but the cafe had embraced the notion wholeheartedly. A barbecue was running among the tables out front, the closest thing they had to a garden, and pitchers of non-alcoholic fruit cocktails available at the counter as an alternative to coffee. Bowls of fruit salad sat alongside the sandwiches in the chiller cabinet.

Jason lit another cigarette and ran a hand through hair that was damp from the shower he'd taken when he'd gotten to the club, and a riotous mess from the wind that swirled through the courtyard. Stripped to the waist, the patch of sun to which he'd laid claim beat down on skin as he crossed his legs underneath him and went back to work soldering thick, richly colored pieces of glass together. The window would replace one broken years earlier in one of the scene rooms, found by chance and removed piece by piece so he could restore it to order.

Lost and content, his mind drifted as he lost himself to the task, oblivious to much else until a shadow fell over his work and he glanced up, squinting to see more than a silhouette outlined by sunlight.

"Am I in your way?"

Memorial Day weekend meant that most people had three days off and intended to spend it either in sloth or trying to cross off as many things as they could from their "to do" list. The club was prepared for both cases.

They'd cleaned and restocked all the rooms, put up some new decorations and made sure everything was bright and shiny.

They'd also stocked up on burgers, dogs, and other picnic essentials and put grills and tables in the back parking lot. There was a threat of rain but if that happened, everything could be hauled indoors to one of the fire-safe play rooms. (Of course, that hadn't stopped some wit from putting an "in case of fire" sign on the inflatable kiddie pool.)

The main lounge had tables stocked with drinks and finger foods for those who didn't do meat or simply weren't the picnic type. Friday afternoon rolled around and everything was set.

Gravel crunched under his boots as he paced the driveway. The distant thumps echoing from the barn were ignored, Gale's mind decidedly elsewhere. It had been a couple of weeks since Jon had come to him, upset and unsure, and when Gale had sought Jason out, casually, of course, he'd been in much the same state. Generally, he would've taken his time in talking them over their reticence, the reluctance of one to upset the other further, but since Matilda's accident, Gale was low on patience.

To be blunt, he'd lied. To the boy he'd locked in the stables and to the man who was pulling into the drive, and as Gale walked to open Jon's door, he found there was surprisingly little guilt. The greater good, all's well that ends well, blah, blah, blah.

"Thanks for coming," he smiled at the man who believed he was there to spend the night with Oscar so Gale could return to the hospital, "Does Ben know you'll be here?"

Hudson, we have achieved baby.

We're at home, she's perfect.
-Auri

Who: Jon and Jason
Where: Private Lounge
When: Today
What: Talk
Status: Unfinished

( Can we Talk? )

Eli'd taken the phone call on the way home from a last minute job. He'd invited Jason over without thinking much about it, grabbed a shower and then snagged a couple of beers from the fridge. They were already opened and waiting on the living room table when he went to the door, barefooted, and answered Jason's knock.

"Hey, c'mon in. Make yourself comfortable, mi casa, et cetera."

Of all the gear in his bag, the fact that Jason couldn't find a pen was stupifying. Seventeen different bits of charcoal and chalk, pencils worn down to stubs of wood, paintbrushes and paint, but no pen. All he wanted was a freaking pen to write a note to leave with the manilla envelope laying on the table so he could get out of the club, and...

Nothing.

Closing his pack, he stepped further into the club, envelope in hand.

"Does anyone have a pen I could borrow for a second?"

Hey give me a call, let me know you're okay.

Love you.- C

( Jason looked through the windshield at the street sign angled out from the corner where he'd parked. )

Thursdays were good days, Jon found. People gearing up for the weekend, over hump day, but still willing to buckle down and work, unlike Fridays. Thursdays were, in fact, the quintessential day in which to get things done.

With this in mind, Jon girded his loins- not literally, because, though his boxer briefs were snug they were comfortable and familiar and in no way like girding- his loins were entirely comfortable- and looked for Jason at the club Thursday night. When he found him, he sat down beside the younger man, tugged his sleeve lightly and asked with a smile, "Are you avoiding me?"