The Vacation House Ch. 10

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A father and son learn how to live and love together.
5.6k words
4.46
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Part 10 of the 31 part series

Updated 06/07/2023
Created 12/22/2012
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The top sheet's balled up in my clenched hand. Cool wood floor boards below me, I find my legs tucked underneath me. Standing up, my naked form is shadowed on the white wall across the room.

Right knee, then left are gently lifted, placed on the king sized bed. My body slowly lowers toward the surface of the disheveled bedding.

Laying my head down on the pillow, eyes open wide. No sound comes from me except for the constant pounding of my heart beat.

"SLAM".

Holding my breath in terror, suspense of who or what might come through the bedroom door at any moment.

My shadow lays on it's side near me. My left arm moves toward it, fingertips barely touching it's shoulder.

Hearing nothing for what seems an eternity, then a door opening, a faint creaking.

"CLICK".

A door being locked? Who's locking it, which door is it.

Light floods into the master bedroom. Momentarily blinded, having adjusted to nothing more than the moonlight filtering in around me.

A familiar outline stands for a moment in the open doorway, moves toward me in it's slow, determined swagger.

The pillow on Dad's side of the bed is lifted up, the bulk of the outlined figure turns, walks back out of the room.

Plunged back into darkness, I feel sweat wash over me. I'm very uncomfortable, unstable, shaking, confused.

What the hell just happened. Dad had just come in, taken his pillow, left me without saying a single word. Not sure what I had thought might occur but this is definitely not the scenario I had been ready for.

My fingertips reach out, touch the shadow, caress the length of the upper body. Visions of myself develop in my minds eye. Dad is laying next to me, spooned, sweat pooling between us, his heat mingling with mine. Fingertips gently touch my side, slowly moving from my shoulder to hip, then back to play with my nipple. It all fades into a blur, a swirl of heat, hair, muscular scent and my raging hard on in hand.

I awake with a gulp of air, sit up so quickly that I bang the side of my head on the wall behind the bed.

Water is running in the master shower. It's one of the most calming sounds, fills me with comfort, like being wrapped in a warm blanket on a cold night.

The room is very warm, sunlight floods in through the unadorned window. The bedding is heated in it's glow.

Focusing my vision, rubbing my eyes while laying stark naked. The top sheet rolled into a ball along side my hip. My dream time spooner?

Sound of the shower handle being turned to the off position, I hop up, grab a pair of dirty shorts from the floor, pull them up quickly.

Dad walks out of the bathroom, goes over to the dresser. Freshly laundered cloths are pulled out of an opened drawer, in no time his once naked body is fully clothed.

That ass, that monstrous, muscular ass is pointing itself right at me, tempting me, taunting me to no end. Dad bends forward, pulls the laces of his tan work boots. Heavy tan cotton fabric covers his back side, stretches taught.

I feel a twinge in my penis, it pops up just a bit. I hop out of the bed, walk into the bathroom as fast as my feet will take me, close the door.

He did not make eye contact with me, not once! Why?

Warm water cascades over my blonde crew cut hair. Lathers of soap, slick, the smell of clean, spreads across my chest, runs down my stomach, over my bulging thighs, down the drain between my feet.

A thick cotton towel is rubbed all over my damp skin.

The handle of the bathroom door is held firmly hand, I'm frozen in place.

Emotions, thoughts, fears, just about anything one could think of threatens to split my head in two like the shell of a almond.

Determination finally outweighs fear, I walk into the master bedroom only to find it unoccupied.

Dressing very slowly, not even aware of what was being put on, all I know is that if it comes out of the drawer, it has to be clean.

I exit the bedroom, fear once again seems to take control. Standing stock still, thinking the worst of the worst is about to present itself.

Dad's sitting at the scrubbed wood table, his newspaper spread before him, obscuring his upper body.

Lee comes into view, I continue into the kitchen. His strikingly rugged and handsome face turns toward me, a flash of brilliant white, his toothy smile is presented.

"Good Morning Robbie, sit down, we,re almost behind schedule, have to get to the site asap. Your Dad is going to head in early and open up, I'll take you to the bus stop so you can get yourself to practice. We'll be taking your Dad's truck, I have business in Keene and I would rather not get messed up with bug splat before I get there. Your Dad will take the Harley. OK, with you?"

OK with me? My head is spinning. Dry mouthed, breath barely coming and only in short bursts.

Dad on a Harley? What the? I didn't even know that he knew how to ride let alone handle a hog the size of that beast.

Shaking my head, "Yeah, fine with me Lee. My gear's in the garage, I'll get it and throw it in the back of the pick-up now."

The newspaper folds down in half, I see Dad's eyes for the first time since the previous night.

"It's already in there Robbie, sit down and have your coffee. There's a glazed doughnut on the counter for you. Not much time left, I'll talk to you when I get home tonight."

He stands up, folds his newspaper, stuffs it into the waistband of his work pants. Picks up the keys to the Harley from the counter just behind Lee.

"See you later Boss" Robbie, if you need anything just leave a message on my cell."

His burly paw tousles my freshly washed hair, a quick pat on the back of my neck. The door from the Kitchen leads into the garage is opened, he steps out, the door closes behind him.

"GGGGGRRRRRRRROOOOOAAARRRRRR!"

The Harley comes to life, gravel is tossed against the garage door, Dad heads off to work with a mighty roar.

I turn toward Lee, a puzzled look plastered on my face. Eyes wide as saucers, mouth slightly agape.

"C'mon Robbie, we have to hit the road if you are going to make your bus. My meeting is not until 10:00 so it's you we have to concern ourselves with."

Lee hadn't left last night, well obviously. That was a stupid thing to even think Robbie. If he had left, he wouldn't be sitting here right now, would he? OK, if he didn't leave, what the heck is going on about what happened last night? I'm not bringing it up if he doesn't. Hey, don't ask, don't tell right?

The passenger door is tightly closed, I feel the comfortable coolness of air conditioning on my face. Dad does not usually use the A/C, Lee on the other hand seems to like the creature comforts that he can afford.

The engine rumbles, the gear clunks into drive, tires spin and kick up some gravel, pelting the underside of the wheel wells.

We are well on our way toward New Hampshire, so far so good.

"Robbie, you know that your Dad is really upset about last night. Give him some room, a little extra patience, OK? A favor to me. If you need, text me if you find you can't seem to handle things or if he is not handling things well. You have my number in your phone don't you?"

"Yeah, yeah, I have it saved, no problem. What do you mean not handling things well though?"

"You never know how someone is going to react Robbie. Let's just say that he is really upset, not with you but with me. I'm OK, don't worry your head about that in the least. Things are cool between us, right? Everything copacetic?"

"Yep, everything is cool with me."

Sitting in silence for the last dozen miles, my mind go off and wanders. Man oh man, the shit is really gonna hit the fan isn't it?

I grab my gear out of the bed of the pick up, slam the tail gate shut, the handle of the cap turned.

"Beep, beep."

Lee has this thing about tapping the horn twice when ever he is leaving. Does it on the bike, does it in his truck, just his thing.

This has been one of the roughest days on the ice I've had in some time. Twice five for fighting, checked so hard that I think one of my teeth is kinda loose now. My best friend wasn't at practice today cause he's on vacation with his family. Somewhere on a beach in Daytona Florida. Who goes to Florida in the summer? Too hot for me and those darned Palmetto Bugs. Those things are about as gross as all get out. Huge Red Cockroaches, that's what they are and the damned things fly too! Not for me. Lizards in the house and cockroaches the size of a small dog? NOPE, I'll stay in New England thanks.

The bus pulls up to the stop, it's full, not a single seat available. Standing, my hockey gear and stick between my wide spread legs, I have to use both hands to grasp hold of the metal bars to keep from toppling over onto someone.

Just my luck, the A/C's not working on the bus to boot. Man, my gear stinks to high heaven. It's gotta be real bad if I can smell my own brand. Bet it's making some of these people sick to their stomachs. A few heads are turned toward their windows. Not sure if it is just the natural anti social thing, don't want to connect eyes thing that happens on the bus or if people are being grossed out from the smell coming from my stuff. Damn, this day just can't get much worse can it?

A group of workers sitting toward the back of the bus get off, I drag my gear, sit down, shove my stuff under my legs. The smell comes up again, shit, I really have to do something about this, it's gonna make me yip.

My stomach begins to tighten, I feel my balls pulling up inside of me as if I had just walked into freezing cold water. The bus slows down, I grab the strap on my bag, get up, step down the few stairs, fresh air..

Walking over to the work-sight, gear slung over my shoulder, crossing the road with lightning speed to keep from being mowed down by an oncoming tracker trailer truck.

Dad's pick-up is right by Lee, um, I mean Mr. Townsend's trailer office. Gear now safely stowed away in the bed, I kick off my flip-flops, grab the work boots. The tailgate is closed, I head over to where Dad has been working for the past week completing finishing touches on the first of the "Show Houses" for the complex.

Walking into house #1, the cool air hits me the second that I open the front door. I have never felt the A/C in one of these buildings cause none of them have come to this level of completion. Obviously Lee has had the Central Air hooked up, guess they are just testing it out to make sure it works.

"Dad? You in here?"

"Down here Robbie, in the basement. Take off your shoes because they finished putting the hardwood flooring in over the weekend, I'm gonna have you take a roll of drop cloths, cover them from wall to wall, keeps them from getting scuffed up. The roll's are down here."

The darkness of the basement is a stark contrast against the brilliantly sunlight filled first floor. Grabbing the hand rail, carefully making my way down toward a single light bulb that dangles from the ceiling on the far end of the cement walled room.

"They're right over there Robbie. I've put down some drop cloth for you to walk on to get them so your feet don't pick up any cement dust, that stuff will scratch the heck out of those new floors in no time."

Barely making out Dad's figure in the dim lighting, there is another very large figure bending over along side him. It stands up but because there just was not enough light, I could not make out who it was, that is until a brilliant white flash. It's Mr. Townsend's broad toothy smile.

Damn, now I am more confused than ever. I was positive that things were going to be really bad between Dad and Mr. Townsend. All day I've been preparing myself for the news that I was being let go, maybe that we both were being laid off cause they got into a huge fight.

Dad would have in no way have allowed himself to be so close to Mr. Townsend had he been sacked earlier in the day. Dad's a very proud man, maybe sometimes too proud, too bull headed, kinda too much the heavy Italian temper, blows like a can of soda after having been shaken, then the tab pulled. No way of keeping the contents inside.

"We've got the Central Heating and Air unit all hooked up and not a single leak."

"Over there Robbie, those rolls need to be taken out of the plastic wrap, carefully lay them on the floors. Make sure that there is a good 10" overlap of each sheet just in case someone hooks a foot on the edges. There's a tape gun over there too, load it with the blue paint tape and run a strip along the edges to keep it from being kicked up every time the doors or windows are opened up."

"Go on Robbie, Mr. Townsend and I will be down here for the next hour wrapping the lines with insulation. See if you can get the floors on both levels finished by quitting time will yeah kiddo?"

"Yeah Dad, no biggie, just call me if you need any help."

"Will do Robbie, I doubt your Dad and I will have any trouble from here on out. Everything seems to be running just fine."

Grabbing the clear plastic wrap that held the 6' tall bundles of drop cloth, heck why do they call it drop cloth, it's just kinda thick plastic.

Pulling the first roll out of the bundle proved to be a little trickier than I had expected. They are pulled so tightly together that none of the outer rolls can be pulled up. I have to figure out how to get one of the center rolls up and out without disturbing all of the other rolls or I am going to have to clip the plastic band that binds them all together.

I figure I am going to take it the easy way, just clip the heavy duty 1/2" wide plastic strap that binds the bundle.

"Snap"

The rolls fall in every which direction, scattering all over the basement floor, unrolling, coming undone.

What an idiot, blushing, feeling like an absolute fool, Dad's and Mr. Townsend's laughter bring me back to my senses.

"Yep, you're not the first or the last to pull that one Robbie"

I run around grab the rolls, put them all back together along the concrete basement wall. A single large roll tucked under my arm, the tape machine, a 6 pack of blue paint tape in my hands. Up into the well lit first floor I climb, toss the roll down, close the basement door behind me.

Nearly an hour into laying the drop cloths, I've got the entire first floor, almost all of the second floor covered. Just one more roll, then to tape them. I'm right on schedule for quitting time.

The bell outside gives notice to all of the workers that it's quitting time. A parade of sun darkened guys walk past the Show House on their way to the bus stop across the street.

"Thump, thump, thump, thump, SLAM"

Dad saunters into the back bedroom just as I'm laying down the very last 10' of tape. DONE!

"Good job kiddo, here, take the keys, get the A/C going in the truck. You've earned it."

Keys fly through the air, my right arm raises instinctively, fingers close around them. Nodding toward the front door, I make my way outside.

The coolness in the truck is a very welcome feeling on my dirty, sweaty skin. My T-shirt clings to my chest, bare knees white from kneeling down on the flooring.

The drivers door opens, Dad slides himself in behind the steering wheel. His bear paw sized hand on the gear shift puts it into drive.

All the way home there's silence between us, no radio, nothing. The cold air blows on me it's really welcome but I could not keep my eyes from wandering, stealing a glimpse of Dad. His big hands on the steering wheel, his bulging crotch as it pushes the front of his filthy work pants upward. DAMN!

Home, finally, this day could not end soon enough for me. Got to get in, wash this crud and worry of the past off of me. Get myself clean, no more worries, no more nothing, just start fresh and new.

"Robbie, you use the Guest Bathroom, I'm going to get cleaned up in the Master."

Huh? I never had to use the guest bathroom to get washed up before. I just wait until Dad's done in our bathroom, me preparing, setting the table for diner, then us switching places. Maybe something is up, things not as OK as I had let myself believe. CRAP!

The last of the soapy water swirls and runs down the drain. The towel wrapped around me. I walk out of the guest bathroom, turn the Master bedroom door knob. LOCKED!

What the? All of my cloths are in there, why would he lock the door? He knows I need to get something to put on. I don't have anything in the spare room or in my sisters/storage room.

Backing up, entering the spare bedroom that Lee had occupied over the weekend, my cloths are in neat piles on the bed. OK, I get it, he's mad and he's kicking me out. No luggage though, I panic inside, what if he is actually kicking me out of the house, sending me back to Rhode Island to live with Mom and my sister? Holy shit, I don't want to move back, my life is here now. Here, my friends are here, my new University is up here, DAD is here! I can't, I can't go. I'll, I'll.....

Knocking on the bedroom door brings me back around. My head snaps and if looks could kill, then holes would be burned through the solid wood.

The door slowly opens.

"You decent?"

"Yeah, I'm decent."

Like heck I was, I was still standing there in shock, the cotton towel had slipped off my bubble butt, lays on the floor in a heap. My cloths untouched, I'm standing here in all of natures glory.

Dad walks in, stops.

"Robbie, you said you were decent. Put something on will you? We need to talk. Get something on, I'll meet you at the kitchen table once you're dressed."

He turns on his heals, walks out of the room, closes the bedroom door behind him.

I can't believe this. Dad has never had a problem seeing me naked. It isn't like I was trying to seduce him or had a hard on or something like that. I reach for a clean white T and a pair of University of Rhode Island loose shorts, fumble until I am, well decent.

The padding of my feet on the hallway wood floors alerts Dad to my presence.

"C'mon in Robbie, take a seat."

Dad stands up as I enter the kitchen, does not take his seat again until I have gotten myself in my normal spot at the table.

Silence.

"Robbie, let me start by saying how sorry I am. It's my fault not yours. You're just a kid, hormones out of control, your life is all out of whack. Me, your Mom, Sister, new home, job, friends, school, rink, everything. I should have known better, put a stop to this sooner."

"NO!"

Dad's eyes fill with tears. A bear of a man, broken, tears streaming down his face. His hands clasped to each other as if in prayer, fingers interlocked, trembling, white knuckled.

"No Dad, it's me, I planned this all. I'm not a kid any longer. I knew, well at least I thought I knew what I wanted, what I was doing. I screwed things up big time, especially between you and Mr. Townsend."

"Lee, we're not in work, call him Lee will you? Robbie, there is more to this than you know, more than anyone knows. I'm not pulling any punches here kiddo, I am going to lay the cards on the table, let the chips fall where they may."

Mouth hanging open, mesmerized by the words coming from him, I couldn't do anything but stare.

"Robbie, I'm not angry with you, let's get that out of the way here and now. Lee's not angry with you either. He's kinda upset with me, nothing that you did, just cause of something, well something I did."

?

"You see, back when Lee and I worked together in Rhode Island, we had become pretty good work buddies, nothing out of the ordinary. We would sometimes go out for a beer after work on special occasions or after finishing a job, we usually had lunch together too. Someone to talk to, share with, some times we'd discuss things that were stressing us out at home. Figuring out ways to make a project at work better. You know, two heads are better than one."

"OK, so Mr. Townsend, uh, I mean Lee and you have been friends, so he is angry with you cause of what I set you up for? That's stupid, I'm gonna quit tomorrow. It's not....."

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