Authors note.
As always my thanks to Neurparenthetical, whose untiring vigilance makes my illegible scribble readable. Any residual errors are left there purposely in order to give you guys something to do.
Enjoy. - and please, whatever you feel about the story feedback is always appreciated. I can't improve if I don't know where I am going wrong.
Caleb 13 - NSA
We had showered and retired to our own bed, leaving Jules' parents to change their bed after we had made such a mess of it. Despite us not getting back to sleep until after midnight, I was still awake at four, and I slid out of bed and made my way down the stairs once again.
For some reason, the dogs were waiting for me on the deck, and they ambled over to say good morning before settling down again to watch. Apparently, my strange behavior intrigued or amused them in some way.
Cheryl brought a drink out to me an hour later. "Good morning," she said. "Did you sleep well?"
"Like a baby," I replied. "I guess I must've been tired."
She chuckled. "I wonder why," she said.
I looked at her, wondering if last night had been a horrible mistake. She must have read the expression on my face and interpreted my thoughts.
"Caleb," she said, crossing the deck and putting her arms around me. "Last night was wonderful I enjoyed it immensely, and I know Dean did too." She leaned in and gave me a brief soft kiss.
"Put my wife down and go shower," Dean said from right behind me. "Those fenceposts aren't going to replace themselves."
Blushing, I extricated myself from Cheryl's embrace and headed indoors, passing Ness at the kitchen door. I yelped as she slapped my butt as I passed.
"Hurry up," she said, "breakfast is ready."
I was showered, changed, and back at the breakfast table in ten minutes. After a very hearty breakfast, which I devoured, Dean and I headed out for the day.
We managed nine hundred posts that day. We could have done more, but we ran out of replacements on the truck, and Dean said it wasn't worth driving all the way back to get fresh ones. He said that for the next day, he'd arrange for caches of posts to be dropped along the fence line.
Ness provided us with another feast, and afterward, Dean and I relaxed on the deck with a beer. He said it was a habit of his to take an hour for himself each day. It gave him time to decompress and sort out his thoughts without having to deal with either work or family issues. I offered to leave him to his 'alone time,' but he shook his head.
"Sometimes a man needs another man to decompress with," he said, "and no, I'm not after your ass. As Jules said, I don't swing that way. But living in a completely female household, it's nice to have some male company for once."
We sat for a while, sipping our beer and just contemplating the amazing view from the deck.
"Caleb," he said after a while, "I don't want you to get mad. Jules says that you get sick of people deciding things for you, but she's my daughter, and I wanted to help her - and you."
"Why would I get mad?" I asked.
"I bought your house," he said simply. "When the FBI seizes assets like that, they go on an auction site. Until they're sold, they use them. For some reason that house hadn't sold - I think it had too much history - so they just kept it on the books. My lawyer closed on it yesterday."
My mouth opened and then closed again. Despite the massive plot of land that I was sitting squarely upon, I still didn't have a concept of how rich he might actually be.
"I don't know what to say," I said. "I'm shocked, overwhelmed."
"Not mad?" he asked.
"I get mad with people for deciding things for me, yes," I said," but that's because they are deciding those things for THEIR benefit and not for ours. The FBI didn't give a fuck about me, or the girls when they put us in that house. It was just a means to an end - a way to put me in their debt and control me. Your motivation is different. You don't want anything from me that I wouldn't already gladly give: to love and protect your daughter.
"But we still can't afford to live in the house. The property tax and utilities and all that is way more than we have."
"I will take care of all that," he said. "It will be the same deal as the FBI had with you. All you need to do is live there and pay for your own food. Everything else will be taken care of. Even the money Josh and Louise pay you, just put it towards your expenses."
"I really don't know what to say," I repeated. "Thank you. It's a weight off my mind. The twins have money, but I hated the fact that I was asking them to help when it's my responsibility."
"Wow," he said, "I wouldn't have expected you, of all people, to say that."
"Why me, of all people?" I asked.
"I thought gender didn't matter," he said. "Or is that just in the bedroom? I thought you valued people for who they were, not for what they had between their legs. I also thought you loved your girls more than that."
"What?" I asked. I was reeling from the sudden attack.
"Get your head out of your ass, boy!" he said sharply. And then more gently, "Caleb, what are those girls to you? Girlfriends? Concubines? Whores? What?"
"They're my..." I struggled to find a single word to encapsulate all that they meant to me.
"Try 'partners,'" he suggested. "Partners share everything, including the responsibilities.
"You think I built all this by myself?" he asked, waving his hand around. "Sure, I got a chunk of change from my pops when he passed on, but it took years and a shitload of work to get here. Cheryl was right beside me the whole way. In fact, she probably did more, because she helped me build the farm, and gave me two wonderful daughters.
"You need to share - not just the fun stuff, but the other stuff too. Those girls are not airheaded bimbos. They're not trophy wives - arm candy to trot out to make you look good - although each of them is gorgeous enough to be. Don't treat them like that. They are equals in your relationship, and that means an equal share of the burden. Don't take it all on yourself."
I quickly realized he was right, but the change in tone still left me reeling for a bit. I was still replaying everything in my head when the back door opened, breaking the strange mood that had settled over and between us. The girls emerged; our 'man time' had come to an end.
Jules came over and sat next to me. She looked a little worried, obviously knowing what we had been discussing.
"Jules," I said in a soft voice, but loud enough for all to hear. "I'm sorry, but I have to tell you."
"What?" she said, a worried frown creasing her forehead.
"I have a sugar daddy!" I stage whispered.
I had timed it perfectly. Dean had just taken a mouthful of beer, and it came rushing out of his nose. Cheryl and the girls howled with laughter as he coughed.
"That was mean," Jules said when she had stopped laughing.
"Well, a guy's got to have a little fun with the new father-in-law," I said, repeating his words from the previous night back at him. "I've been going far too easy on him so far."
"Boy, you just messed with the wrong marine," he growled, but then he chuckled. "'Sugar daddy,'" he repeated, almost to himself, shaking his head.
I looked across at where Ness was sitting, looking at me.
"Scoot over a bit,"
I sent to Jules, and she made space, Ness came over and sat beside me.