#also she eats so much granola and never vacuums

[nope-body]

.

[quatschmachen]

Fences

2020 Arc continues

XXXXX

It had been eight when the delicious smell of something cooking had awakened him. He could hear the other two men bustling about the house and stretching he took a moment to realize that he felt mildly content. What had happened last night?

As he rolled out of bed and got dressed the memories slowly came back, from the insane rap battle over those delicious brownies (he regretted that none of them had lasted for this morning), to singing late into the night together. As he pulled on his pants he wondered what adventure would be in store today, when he remembered that he was going home today.

Running his fingers through his hair, he thought it hilarious that he had spent the past three days desperate to escape and the day he was going to fly out, it was the last thing he wanted.

Placing his feet into the slippers, he shuffled into the kitchen, the smell of food increasing. Peering in, he saw Ed hovering by some strange device. He opened it up and waffles magically appeared. Étienne frowned as Ed opened the oven and slipped the waffles in. Why would they need to be baked? Ed then poured some batter into the …waffle maker? then closed it before he glanced over and smiled warmly at Étienne.

“Good morning, sure hope you don’t mind some cinnamon clove waffles… Did you sleep well?”

In response Étienne yawned and settled onto a chair giving Ed an expectant look, but also curious as to why Ed was wearing not so nice clothing. Perhaps he intended to do yard work after he left?

A loud bustle as the back door opened informed him Calvin had come in.

“Oh my god Ed this is so cute,” Calvin’s voice carried from the back door, and after a couple thumps, probably Calvin removing his shoes, he emerged into the kitchen, wearing some worn gardening pants, and a shirt that had seen better days. He had a basket full of eggs in one hand, his phone in the other with a picture. “Esther has literally taken Étienne’s lock of hair and put it into her bed!”  

Taking the phone, Ed smiled, “Aww, she must like you, Étienne.”

Giving a slight jump, Calvin looked towards Étienne, his look of surprise turning into a smile, “Geez didn’t even see ya there, good morning! You all packed to go? When does your plane leave again?”

“Mornin’…” Étienne looked at the photo Ed was showing him, which showed a grumpy Esther shuffled to the side of her bed with the hair poking out beneath her eggs. “Mm I am mostly packed… my plane leaves at 1:45pm.”

“Oh really? I thought…” Calvin’s tone was surprised, “Who are you flying with again?”

“Air Canada…” Étienne looked over to Calvin and raised an enquiring brow. “Is there a problem?”

“Oh no, not at all, just making sure I know what time we are driving you out and all.” He moved to the coffee and began to pour out three mugs worth.  He set one down in front of Étienne, and then set the table, placing the cream and sugar out. “What do you take on your waffles?”

Usually Étienne took maple syrup, but he thought better of this and responded, “Jam.”

“Good idea. What type?”

“Whatever Ed has made that goes with waffles?” Étienne was stirring the cream and sugar into his coffee, and he glanced over to Ed who once more popped some waffles into the oven.

“Hmm well, probably an apple jelly,” Ed mused, as he set out a selection of jams.  After a couple moments, he turned the oven off and removed the plate. Placing the last two waffles onto the pile of waffles, he set the plate in the middle of the table on top of a cork pad. “Dig in!”

To say it was a feeding frenzy would be an understatement. Calvin had grabbed two waffles right off the bat, and Étienne, knowing that this would be the last time in a while before he ate this delicious food again instinctively grabbed five of them.

Which meant Ed got one waffle, however, he glanced at Étienne with too much amusement to make any comment of complaint. Calvin opened his mouth to protest this unfair practice, only to be silenced by a kick from Ed. Sending him a questioning look, Ed simply shook his head at Calvin, before pointedly glancing over to Étienne who had smeared apple jelly over his waffle and was hungrily consuming them. Two of them had already disappeared.

Grumpily Calvin loudly cut into his waffle, knowing that Ed was being sweet on Étienne, since he had come to town looking like some malnourished naked mole rat. Finishing his waffle, Ed stood up.

“Well, looks like I underestimated!” he said lightly as Étienne looked up from his plate towards Ed, with a piece of waffle hanging out of his mouth. “Ah… how many more do you think we’ll need?”

Giving Étienne a Look, Calvin responded, “Probably ten more so the vacuum cleaner over here can be filled up.”

Shooting Calvin a dirty look, Étienne responded, “Excuse me, I am eating as much as possible. While you have the luxury of this food every day, I do not.”

Ed had already begun mixing up the batter, using the fresh eggs that Calvin had brought in.

“That doesn’t mean you have to take five waffles at once!” Calvin grumped, leaning over with his fork to grab one. In response Étienne snatched his plate out of his reach, protectively cradling it against his chest.

“Don’t you dare Calvin, these have been claimed,” he hissed, before attempting to stuff an entire waffle into his mouth.

“Oh my god, Ed is literally making more, Étienne! It’s not like there’s gonna be a waffle shortage in the world!” Calvin complained leaning forward to grab the last waffle off of Étienne’s plate. In response Étienne stood up abruptly, the chair clattering to the floor as he moved out of Calvin’s reach entirely. Swallowing the waffle, he placed the last one into his mouth and triumphantly looked at Calvin (who had ended up awkwardly semi-splayed across the table, fork useless in his hand) as he watched in disbelief as Étienne consumed the fifth waffle.

“Calvin,” Ed’s voice was slightly choked, probably from trying not to laugh, “Here, I made you some waffles.”

Quickly Calvin scrabbled back into his chair, and took the proffered waffles, suspiciously tossing glances towards Étienne as he spread some of the apple jelly on top of them. Étienne was busy wiping his mouth, and edging closer to Ed, the Waffle Provider, until he was right next to Ed, intently watching him as he made the waffles.

“So you… were putting them into the oven to keep them warm?” Étienne hesitantly asked.

“Mm? Yeah.” Ed looked over to him, “How many more do you want? Or are you full?”

In response Étienne’s stomach rumbled, “At least five more?”

“Are… you sure you can eat ten waffles, Étienne?” the tone was skeptical, “You aren’t going to be getting a tummy ache on the way home?”

“If I die it is fine,” Étienne responded holding his plate out, “It would be worth it, I am in love.” He paused, hearing a clatter behind him as Calvin might have dropped his fork on his plate, and then added, “with these waffles.”

Rolling his eyes, Ed had a small smile as he dished out two waffles onto Étienne’s plate, “Fine, here you go.”

Étienne shuffled over to the table, and giving Calvin a suspicious glance, grabbed the apple jelly before retreating back to the counter next to Ed to eat them away from certain danger.

“Edddd,” Calvin complained as he stood up, “I want more waffles too.”

“Unbelievable,” Ed muttered, as he stood in front of the waffle maker, “Alright um… well since this only makes two at a time… what if I give you one each?”

Étienne and Calvin shared a look, as if determining how much they trusted the other man, until finally they looked to Ed and gave a nod.

By the time the waffle mix had gone, Étienne had managed, just barely, to eat his goal of ten waffles. He had managed to stumble into the living room, before collapsing onto the couch in a food coma. Calvin, who apparently felt challenged by Étienne, had managed eight, before he too had followed Étienne into the living room, and splayed onto the floor softly moaning.

Thoroughly tired of waffle making, and not bothering to make anymore for himself, Ed opted for some granola, fruit, and yoghurt, the other two men having eaten all of the waffles. Usually he would be annoyed at this, but as he took a picture of the two men laying down in food comas, he could only feel amusement. Finishing his food, he disappeared into the kitchen, before sneaking past into the guest bedroom. It only took a few moments - the bag was already packed - for him to take it and the suitcase to set it by the back door. The time was moving on, and he knew that if he did not bring the two men back to life anytime soon Étienne would miss his airplane.

Walking back to the living room, he clapped his hands together, “Alright you two, it’s time to get to the airport.”

Soft groans came from the two men, but Calvin managed to sit up and look at Ed. “Already?”

“Well, Étienne needs to check in and stuff, right?” Ed glanced over to the man on the couch, “Unless you have accepted the concept of online check in?”

“No, I haven’t,” Étienne responded. He had tried it once, and it had been a disaster. He had vowed never to do that again.

XXXX

They had dropped him off with plenty of time to catch his airplane. It was the 1:45 direct flight to Montreal, and Étienne was full of mixed feelings upon returning home. Relief was one of them, some of the others he was not so sure he wanted to identify.

As he went to the check-in desk, he handed over his coffee-stained paper. The lady took it, and frowned. She looked as if she had been born and lived her entire life in the airport, her face sagging with disillusionment, her tightly curled grey hair neatly pinned under cap, and not a ruffle out of place in her uniform.  

This woman was not the milk and cookies grandma, but the one you avoided in case she wanted to cane you, Étienne thought grimly.

“Your plane has left. It left at 11: 45 am.” Her voice had the tired but firm air of an employee who had dealt with this situation before.

Étienne frowned, “But it leaves at 1:45pm?”

“Perhaps if you had reprinted your ticket, you would have seen the correct time?” The desk lady was talking to him slowly as if he were a child who didn’t understand English well. Out of spite Étienne wanted to switch into fluid French.

“There are no refunds for a missed flight. You can always rebook, the next flight leaves…” she tippity tapped on her computer, “Monday.” The lady looked at him, her tone clipped, her gaze implying ‘if you can even show up on time’.

“Is there no earlier plane?”

“If you want a direct flight nope, the other option will have you go through Toronto, which leaves this evening. Otherwise there is no direct flight with Air Canada until Monday.” She smiled at him politely, the smile not quite reaching her eyes. “Would you like to rebook?”

Feeling irritated, embarrassed, and pissed, Étienne shook his head, he did not even want to give this lady the satisfaction of rebooking. “I will rebook later.”

Picking up his briefcase and grabbing his bag, he stalked away wondering what the hell he would do now… would it be good to swallow his pride and admit his mistake?  Call Ed and Cal “Hey so I’m an idiot and missed my plane, totally did not do this on purpose to eat more of your food…” As if that would go down well.

Perhaps he could just explore Alberta?

Also, why the hell was his bag so heavy? He had noticed it the moment Ed had handed it to him, as they said goodbye. They had dropped him off like a piece of unwanted luggage right outside the doors, before they had zoomed away.  When he had bent to pick up his bag he thought his arm was going to rip out of its socket, and as he lugged it to the check in desk he was so focused on checking in he figured he would discover the weight later when he got home.

However, now he was trapped here… He had not bought anything, so it was odd that his bag should be so heavy.

Setting the bag down, he squatted beside it and opened it up to inspect whether or not one of Calvin’s horse sculptures had decided to stow away. His eyes widened as he took in the scene before him.  There were a few jams, expertly peeking out of his clothing, wrapped tightly in bags in case they broke. Then there were the cookies tucked in, at least five bags worth of various types. Plus some cleverly deflated bags of those apple crisps… Étienne could feel his mouth watering already despite the hearty breakfast he had eaten.

On top lay a note, a piece of paper folded over with his name handwritten in an all too familiar scrawl. What the-? When had-? Tentatively he picked up the note, his legs giving out from the squat into him simply sitting on the airport floor, ignoring the curious looks of passing persons.

Taking a moment to gather himself, his heart rate having picked up, he opened the paper.

Étienne,

It was great having you over. Feel free to drop by anytime. Loved catching up with you. Let’s not leave it so long! Maybe I can wrangle some time to visit you within the next six months? Might have to bring Calvin along if you don’t mind.

Ed.

p.s. I included a few snacks for your trip in case you got hungry. It looks like you aren’t eating enough again!

p.p.s I am always available to cut your hair if you are too lazy to get it tamed.

He read the note over and over, unable to believe it. His throat was tight, and his eyes for some weird reason were prickling. With a startling insight, he realized, he did not want to go home. Not yet anyway. Hell his confused feelings as to having missed his flight? It was relief. He had a reason to stay. In between choking and laughing, he ran his fingers through his hair and took out his phone. It was blurry and he realized that his eyes had misted up for no good reason; awkwardly he wiped them and looked at it. Was he going to do it? Would they make fun of him? Probably but… the thought of going home to his empty apartment did not appeal. The idea sat there in front of him like a large black widow spider, overwhelmingly black, where if he were to enter it would consume him once more into its misery trapping him back into the cycle of… well whatever the hell he was feeling. Thinking of returning to Ed’s… well it was not exactly heaven, but he realized he had been actually rather happy at some points which honestly had been the happiest he had been for a while. Continuing that? Perhaps with eating through the rest of those ready meals… well… it sure seemed a hell of a lot better than going home at the moment.

He knew that as he looked up Ed’s phone number he would regret this right away, knowing that his pride would be laughing at him for this momentary weakness.  At the moment he simply did not give a damn though.

XXXX

After complaining about being hungry, Edward and Calvin had decided to take a snack at the Tim Hortons right by the airport. When Ed had suggested simply going through the drive-thru, Calvin had checked his watch and insisted they go in to eat.

Deciding that he did not want to protest, Ed had agreed, which resulted in him stuffing his face (honestly, granola and yoghurt never did cut it), when his phone rang. Frantically he looked at it, the name popping up and letting him know it was Étienne. He motioned to Calvin to pick it up.

“Eeyup?” Calvin answered to the furtive hello from Étienne.

“…Ed… you sure sound a lot like Calvin.”

“Yuparooni… hold on. Lemme putcha on speakerphone, Ed has a face full of grub.” After some beeping and booping, suddenly Étienne’s voice crackled.

“Wait… so you are answering his phone?”

Swallowing Ed added, “I don’t want to be rude, but shouldn’t you be on an airplane? Why are you calling us for?”

There was a pregnant pause, enough for Ed to get another bite of his sandwich while raising his eyebrows at Calvin in question.

Finally, Étienne managed to say, “I… I hate to say this but I have missed my airplane… and there isn’t another one for a few days. I don’t know what to do.”

Ed nearly choked on his sandwich, which resulted in a lot of coughing, Calvin thumping his back, and Étienne asking if everything was alright.

When the coughing had subsided, Calvin asked, “Say, Ed, do we take him back in?” the tone was joking, the question serious.

“Oh well, I dunno…” Ed dragged his response out, trying to gauge what Calvin was feeling about this phone call. For some reason Calvin did not seem very… surprised?

“You guys know I can hear this conversation right?” Étienne cut in, his voice irritated, “I am not a piece of meatloaf to be abandoned.”

“And here I thought you were an old baguette who had seen better days and probably was only good for bread pudding?” Edward responded with some humour, “We’ll come get you where we dropped you off. Luckily for you we actually are at the Tim Hortons snacking. I think a suitable punishment would be a double double?”

“Oh my god, you wouldn’t dare get me…”

“Be there in fifteen!” Calvin added as he clicked off the phone.  “So…?”

In response Edward raised his eyebrows, “Is there something you are not telling me, Calvin?”

“Ehh? What do you mean?” Calvin tried to look innocent as he took a sip of coffee, but failed miserably.

“Calvin Bris-“

“Ok I’ll spill!! Shh!” Calvin looked around as if worried someone would have heard the middle name being said, “Ok… I thought it was odd his flight was leaving at such a time… so I uh… checked on my phone… and if well… y’know if he was gonna miss it.”

“Do you mean you knew he was going to miss his flight?!”

Calvin shrugged, “I was going to mention that he had the time wrong, but then he kept eatin’ all the waffles so I forgot.”

“But you drove him down here anyways?”

“Mmm… well… I was a little embarrassed by that point…”

Edward returned to his sandwich, staring at Calvin thoughtfully. As he finished it, he sighed. “Calvin, what is up? You don’t seem very… upset he is staying longer.”

Fiddling with his cup, Calvin focused upon Edward’s forehead, before letting out a sigh, “Alright, I’m worried about him too. I felt that… if we did get him home on time… it might be the last time we see him? I know that is irrational… but there you have it.”

Edward reached across the table, grasping Calvin’s hand. “Are you sure about this though?”

“You make it sound as if we are adopting an unruly kitten that chases chickens, Ed,” Calvin smiled, and placed his free hand atop of Ed’s. “Look, he is an important part of your life, and I accept that. He can become part of mine too. Plus, he decided to phone us. That means he wants to stay. He coulda always stayed at the airport.”

Biting his lower lip, Edward really wanted to ask once more if Calvin was sure about this, but was interrupted when Calvin gave his hand a pat, and then pulled out of his grasp. “I need to get him a double double… punishment, right?”

“Oh… Étienne is going to kill you, you ordered him subpar coffee.”

“It would be rude to pick him up and not let him have a coffee though,” Calvin responded with a small smirk. “Isn’t there an obligation to drink someone’s present?”

“Oh my god Calvin, you are the worst,” Ed laughed. “there is no guarantee that he would drink it… he could just spill it out on the floor.”

“If he doesn’t drink it he can’t get in my truck!”

“Good luck Calvin, he might just hitch a ride in the truck bed.” Ed responded as he picked up their empty wrappers to take them to the garbage.

As they pulled up to the Departures, Étienne was standing outside looking embarrassed, and as he tossed his bags in then hopped into the back seat of the truck, he frowned at the box of Tim Hortons doughnuts beside him.

“Did you guys really?”

Glancing back, partially to make sure Étienne had buckled up, Calvin smirked. “Look, here is the warning. We are not returning back to the house right away, in fact we have an errand to do… this will probably be your only sustenance for the next while. If you don’t drink the double double, or eat the doughnuts I especially purchased for you… well…” here he gave a shoulder shrug, “You may just die of starvation.”

“We just ate, I don’t think I could eat another food… anyways why were you eating at Tim Hortons?” Étienne asked. The fact that Ed had a mouth full of food when he phoned puzzled him.

In response, Ed tiredly looked over to him from his seat up front, “Because y’all ate my waffles.”

“Oh… couldn’t you make more?” suddenly Étienne felt like a dick for his binge eating this morning.

Ed gave a reassuring smile towards Étienne, letting him know it was alright, “What and miss your flight?”

“Ha.Ha.” his attention turned to Calvin as they pulled out from the temporary pick up zone. “Where are we going anyway?”

“Baba Chayka,” Ed’s face seemed to light up as he said this name that meant nothing to Étienne, “it’s going to be a hard day of yard work.”

“Why are you doing yard work not at your house?” This entire situation was confusing, and Étienne once more felt out of place. Of course Calvin and Edward would have plans for after he had gone.

Ed had twisted more in his seat so he could have a better look at Étienne, “She’s like a grandma I ended up adopting in the 90’s.”

“You what… and you never?” Étienne frowned feeling like this was another realm of unknown crap he was about to be entering.

“Well, it wasn’t such a big thing in the 90’s? I really connected with her more recently, because I ran into her and she recognized me.” Ed explained, “I knew her from the 90’s. I was friends with her son, Daniel… who died from AIDS. Her other kids have grown up and moved out and don’t visit as often. So I check in on her. Today we are going to get her yard shipshape, and pull through on the promise to paint her fence.”

“Oh.” Étienne remembered how once Ed had shown up out of the blue, crying.  It had been about then… remembered how heartbroken Ed had been over Daniel’s death. The toll of those who died wearing them down, each one piling up as sand scratching against their bodies as helplessly they had looked on. It surprised him that Ed had kept in contact with Daniel’s mother… but somehow it made him like Ed even more. “So… am I going to have to paint?”

“Auyup,” Calvin responded, “You have abandoned guest status by overstaying, so now you have been absorbed into our group. Basically like family. You too get to do the shitty chores.”

“I what? If you didn’t want me – ” Étienne began, until the words began to sink in. “Family?”

Calvin glanced up into the rear-view mirror with amusement, “Hell Étienne, you gotta stop bein’ so coy. We’re just gonna be treatin’ you like one of us.”

“I think he wants you to clean out the chicken coop,” Ed added in a teasing tone.

“Sure do!” Calvin laughed. “I’m tired of their shit!”

Étienne stared ahead, not sure what to feel or say. What the hell? Family? Because he had overstayed? Did he feel happy or upset about this? Did family still want to fuck a family member? What sort of family? Distant enough cousin to still lust after Ed? (And he hated to admit it, sometimes, Calvin did enter his thoughts).

“Anyways,” Calvin continued, as he shoulder checked and then switched lanes, heading off the QEII, “I am sure we are much better company than that pissypants brother of yours.”

“Pissypants… Samuel?” Étienne asked in amusement, “What did he do to you for such a damning title?”

“Well, he decided to agree with you and cause a ruckus about the pipeline,” Calvin said.

“And then he may have tried to insinuate that Calvin was an idiot.” Ed added.

“I am pretty sure he did, he said it in French, but y’know since now my French is up to par I understood every damn word,” Calvin looked up into the rear-view mirror again, and Étienne saw a rather wicked smile upon his face. “Not that he needs to know.”

“Oh my god,” Étienne laughed, “What did you do, Calvin?”

“What, me? Why do you think I did anything? I am sweeter than the pie on Tuesday.” the tone was too innocent, and the fact that Ed had given a rather loud snort at this let Étienne know Calvin had done Something. “Ed, you are not helping this.”

“You should tell him,” Ed responded, he glanced back to Étienne, grinning, “It was so bad.”

“Tell me!” Étienne banged the back of Calvin’s seat, “You have me on tenterhooks!”

“Only if you promise not to out me,” Calvin responded, “I don’t want to have to face the wrath of him.”

“Why would I out you?” Étienne responded, “He has been a thorn in my side since the moment we came into existence.”

“Hmmm… alright…” Calvin paused, then “You know, when he had that hair trouble? Where it suddenly turned into a really bad patchy blond colour?”

“…No… you didn’t…  how?” Étienne gasped.

“Can’t tell you all the tricks of the trade, Étienne, but let me tell you, it was very satisfying.”

“Oh my god, it was you?! He was blaming me for that! Just because I was the first to see him!” Étienne laughed, “And it was you all along! How the hell…”

“Sometimes the best vengeance takes time,” Calvin responded, “Anyways, we are here.” He had pulled up outside a small bungalow, surrounded by the saddest looking picket fence known to humankind. The lawn was slightly overgrown, but there were some cheery looking flowers in boxes.  Despite the fence and the lawn, the house looked well kept, well lived in, as if it had seen many happy memories.

As they were climbing out of the truck, the front door opened and there stood a wizened old lady, pink floral headscarf neatly tied, cane in hand. Her face beamed.

“Edward!” and then the next words she said Étienne vaguely knew it was probably Ukrainian, but he really was not that honed up on the language.

And then he managed to respond to her, and Étienne looked over to Calvin feeling lost.

Calvin however, after rolling up the metal cover on the truck bed, was rooting around in the back squatting above a heavy-duty workbox, he pulled out a pair of blue jean coveralls, and the saddest looking baseball cap, black, squished and dusty, with a faded logo on it.

“Catch.”

In confusion, Étienne caught the items, as Calvin shut the work box, and took another container, filled with paint and the painting tools, out of the back. Placing it on the ground, he reached in once more and pulled out a basket (which seemed to hold the promise of food).

“Calvin!” Baba Chayka (whom Étienne decided was the type of old lady that was going to feed you), had moved over to Calvin, and he bent down so that she could kiss him on each cheek.

Ed had taken the basket from Baba Chayka, and as she pulled away, she looked directly at Étienne. “Who is?”

“This is our friend, Étienne,” Ed responded, “He is visiting from Montreal. Étienne, this is Baba Chayka.”

“Welcome, welcome! Any friend of Edward is a friend of mine, I see you have come to do some painting?” she gestured towards the coveralls, “Come in, we will get you ready.”

They followed her in, Calvin carrying the box of painting tools bringing up the rear. Inside, the house was neat as a pin. Lace doilies seemed to be breeding, sitting under everything from a nice vase to a statue of Jesus on the cross. In the living room, which Étienne glanced in, he saw a small icon corner with the Mother Mary featured. She however led them to the kitchen. “Étienne…” she took him by the arm, and led him to a small bathroom. “You change in here.”

And then abruptly he was standing there in the bathroom, staring at the coveralls… Well…

He made the decision that he did not want to get his shirt dirty and took it off, along with his pants (paint he knew, had a way of getting on Everything).  Staring at himself in the mirror, coveralls done up, arms bare, hat tentatively sitting upon his curls as if at any moment it would spring off his head, he found himself smiling. He looked like a hick, and he knew that he was going to get sunburnt… but at the moment… the idea of painting fences was a lot better to think about than the fact he would be on the airplane flying home at this very moment.

As he entered the kitchen once more, he saw Baba Chayka giving Ed a big hug. On the table was the basket, open revealing many jams and preserves, along with some apple crisps. The scene caused a small clenching sensation around Étienne’s middle. If Ed was taking this old lady under his wing… and this was the food that was being given… He thought of the food carefully squished into his bag. Was Calvin right? Did Ed still consider him to be… someone important? Despite everything?

“Edward, you are so naughty!” the tone was indulgent, as if he was the favourite grandchild, “You will not get away with this!”

“I rarely do,” Ed was giving her a soft smile as they pulled apart.

“Wowee, your friend is hot, no?” in a comic gesture she fanned herself. “He looks good in the painting clothes.”

Laughing, Ed turned and looked towards Étienne, his gaze widening for a second, before he added, “Well, no matter his looks, so long as he can hold a paintbrush that’s where I’ll need him.”

“Where’s Calvin?” Étienne asked looking around. Outside he heard a lawnmower start up.

“He wants to cut the grass by the fences before we begin to paint.” Edward picked up the painting box, “But he has done around the fences by now, so we can start.”  He frowned as if he was forgetting something, and then turned to his table and revealed a rather battered straw cowboy hat, and placed it on his head.  “Let’s go.”

“You boys, I will be out with cold lemonade, you are so kind to do this for me.” Baba Chayka said.

“No problem,” once more Ed smiled at her, his next words coming out a little gruff, “You are always a pleasure to visit.”

Ed turned away and Étienne followed him out the front door towards the fence posts.

“So what is the plan?”

Putting the box down, Ed opened it, and took out a can of white paint. “She literally wants white picket fences… with a twist.”

“Twist?”

“She wants a flower design on her front gate, but that is after we resuscitate her sad looking fence.”

“Ah…” Étienne reached in and took a paintbrush. “How are we to do this?”

“Probably best if we stick together,” Ed said, his gaze seeming to move to Étienne’s bicep, before once more returning to his face, “So that way we can paint both sides of the fence at once?”

Before Étienne could even agree, Ed picked up one of the white paint cans and a large brush and walked through the gate. There was no reason to object to this plan, and Étienne took his can of paint and popped it open. Plus, he was rather enjoying the furtive glances Ed was shooting him between the fence posts when Étienne was pretending he was focusing really hard on painting it. The rhythm was soothing, the slap of the brush upon the wood almost like painting a canvas.

“So do you often paint her fences?” Étienne asked wanting to continue talking to Ed. There was so much he wanted to say to him, so many things he wanted to relate, but instead he talked about fences.

“No. We do yard work mostly, her kids live down in Calgary, so it’s difficult to come up.” Ed responded, his tongue poking out slightly as he jabbed his brush at a difficult part.

“Is it because of the guilt?” Étienne asked softly. He hadn’t meant to, but it had slipped out, the words blowing through the gap of the fence like spilled dandelion seeds.

Edward took a moment to finish painting the post, and then, he looked through the gap at Étienne, who was waiting for a reply.

“Partially. I mean, like you, I always wonder… About… well, our bodies to theirs, and if I could have been part of the problem. But the other aspect is, I genuinely like her. Plus each time I visit I manage to learn a new recipe. Feels like I am preserving the memories, with her food. Her stories. They are each a part of me, and I know one day she will be gone like so many others before her.” He paused as he moved onto the next picket, dipping his brush carefully into the white paint, then continued, “And perhaps, every now and then, I want to look back and think I made a positive difference in someone’s life.”

“You made a positive difference in mine.” God what was with his mouth today? Étienne thought as he bit his lip, he did not mean for that to come out.

“Aww, Et,” the tone was warm, and Étienne could almost feel the smile coming through the picket between them, “That’s real sweet. You really helped me out y’know. After… the 70’s. Don’t know where I’d be without you.”

Étienne was not sure how to respond, so he didn’t. Instead he moved onto the next picket, moving faster than Ed in his furious paint strokes. Perhaps this painting together thing had been a bad idea, he thought, heart thumping. Staying had been the wrong idea, talking to Edward like this… hurt.

Apparently Ed had not got the memo, his voice was dreamy, his eyes unfocused as he slowly painted his picket, “You really helped me out of a bad place, Étienne, I don’t know if I ever properly thanked you for that…” he dipped the brush into the paint and begun on the next picket, at this point he was two pickets behind Étienne. “Your friendship means a lot to me… I know I have been not perfect in keeping up my end of our friendship…but you still mean a lot to me. I don’t think that will ever change-”

Étienne cursed as his paintbrush fell out of his hand and splatted onto the jean coveralls.

“Et?” Ed’s gaze snapped back into focus, and he gazed through the space, “Are you alright?”

“J-just dropped my paintbrush,” Étienne said hating how tight his voice sounded. “Fine.”

“Right…” Ed frowned, but was thankfully silent, apparently sensing he may have said too much.

Five pickets later, Étienne was wishing he had continued to talk, the silence between them somehow worse than Ed saying words that shredded him apart. Finally, out of desperation, unable to bear the silence anymore, Étienne muttered, “You mean a lot to me too, Ed.”

“Pardon?”

Clearing his throat, Étienne looked up towards the curious gaze of the man. He licked his lips not sure if he should cover it up with words he hadn’t said, or actually repeat them.  However he felt lost, and the words repeated, “You mean a lot to me, Ed.”

The slow smile that came as a response was worth it, and Étienne found himself smiling back to Ed. Somehow, something between them had changed.

The moment was broken however when loud swearing by the house caused them to look away from their fence painting. Calvin was standing on a ladder, gloved hand deep in an eaves trough, pulling black goop out into a bucket. Apparently he had also managed to pull out the dead body of a squirrel.

Ed had stood up to get a better view, and Étienne had followed suite, but more in order to stretch the kink out of his back.

“Loooordeee Calvin,” Ed shouted out, “When you said you’d make dinner tonight I didn’t think Well Seasoned Squirrel was on the menu!”

Calvin made a face at Ed and flung the dead carcass into the bucket, “Only if you cook it!”

Étienne caught Ed’s eye and for the second time in twenty-four hours, found himself succumbing to laughter. He had no recent memory of the past few years of laughing so much within twenty-four hours. The rest of the pickets seemed to fly by, especially when Calvin finally was released from basic maintenance to help them out. As they reached the front gate, the last picket painted, Ed looked over to Étienne.

“This is the twist.” He pulled out small tins of red, yellow, green, black and pink. “I got some basic stencils, but if you want, you can do without. I even have some flower and leaf shaped sponges I cut out beforehand.” He looked over to Calvin, “Since I know some of us aren’t as talented.”

“Hey now, I am an expert at horses, but flowers… I admire them from a distance.” Calvin responded with a fake hurt tone.

“Take the sponge, Calvin.”

“Fine dear,” he huffed, but he winked at Étienne to let him know everything was fine.

As they finished painting the fence, the front door opened, and they heard Baba Chayka call out to them that dinner was ready. She had made her appearance earlier with the promised cold lemonade which had acted like a tonic of inspiration.

Étienne had accidentally spilt some down his front, and when he looked to see if Ed had seen him, he had noticed that Ed had momentarily stopped drinking, looking at him… not with laughter but a hunger. His eyes seemed to be roving across his bare arms, to his chest and the wet lemonade which had quickly evaporated, until finally, they roved up to his face, Ed flushing and quickly looking away when he realized Étienne had watched the entire action. It had taken all of Étienne’s self restraint to focus upon his lemonade and finish drinking it instead of pouring it down his face, Ed was so goddam cute. He had known at that moment that staying longer was literally him signing his own death warrant. If he managed to get out of this situation alive, it would be a bloody miracle. He knew that at some point, each day he stayed any longer, the chances of Calvin McCall murdering him for macking on his sweet honey increased, because if Ed managed to get any cuter, well, Étienne was in a world of trouble. It wasn’t even the fact that he desperately wanted to fuck him, he just wanted to be around the other man, consume his smile like dew drops, listen to him talk about whatever inane subjects had crept up as they painted.

Étienne had decided not to use a stencil, letting inspiration take him into a detailed floral design, allowing some wild roses to appear as a tribute to where he was staying. Creatively he had mixed the red with the white to get the right shade of pink, the one provided not to his satisfaction. Calvin’s was a little less inspirational, but very neat, the flower shapes having been carefully detailed by Ed.

Entering the house, Baba Chayka had herded them into the bathroom, not letting them touch anything in her house until they had cleaned up. Fortunately, Ed and Calvin had managed to get minimal paint upon their clothing, where Étienne had managed to get paint even behind his ear.

“Hold on,” Calvin said, as he took a paper towel to Étienne’s ear, pulling close to him, “This paint sure is a pain to get off…”

“Mmhm.” Étienne responded, “Do you think she’ll let me have my clothes to change back into?”

“Right, I’ll get them,” Ed had said, exiting the bathroom. Moments later he appeared with Étienne’s shirt and pants, and once the paint had been removed from his ear they had abandoned him to change.

The dinner she had laid out was a feast, and Étienne, who that morning had thought he could never eat again, found himself spooning a second helping of scalloped potatoes next to his pierogis. Baba Chayka had insisted that Ed take a large basket of her own goodies home, and after that…The evening passed by in a whirl, the food making him sleepy, and as Étienne found himself once more in the guest bed, not sure exactly how he had gotten there, he found himself passing out from the hard work and food.

He didn’t notice how Ed took the extra moment to lean on the door frame, watching him sleep, nor did he notice Calvin peeking in, and the two of them sharing a small smile between them.

It was as they were climbing the stairs to the second floor to their bedroom, Calvin a few steps ahead of Edward, that finally Ed asked, “Why did you lie?”

“Mm?” Calvin paused and glanced over his shoulder, “What do you mean?”

“About… why you got revenge on Samuel? It wasn’t about the gas was it, not really.”

“Eh, it was a partial truth,” Calvin shrugged and began to continue the climb, “Ed, I don’t think Étienne would benefit any from knowing the rest.”

“He might you know,” Ed responded quietly.

Reaching the landing Calvin rolled his eyes, “Let’s go to bed. It’s not worth disagreeing over.”

Giving him a hard look, Edward let out the breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding, “Fine, you’re probably right.”

[mykatesingh-blog]

    The new year is coming.  I was bewildered when a documentary ask “what will you change in 2018?”  My first thought was how silly to asked that so soon.  It took the next morning for my muddled brain to realize that 2018 is within weeks.  By the time this post, it will be days.

I’m one of those die-hards that just love my New Years resolutions.  I’m getting pretty good at setting goals and reaching them.  The trick is to set goals you can’t wait to tackle and make plans you jump out of bed to accomplish.  It has to be fun things you love doing.  You then interweave the not so enticing task that will only improve the following lifestyle.

For example, my goals are to do as much homesteading as possible and to save a lot of money.

Easy peasy!  Except that building a homestead takes money, right?  Not necessarily.  We already have the foundation laid such as having land, having a huge compost rotting in the back of the detached garage as I type, we have chickens, raised beds…I even know where to get free horse manure.

I’m using my winter months wisely.   I have until the last frost in March to study and study I’m doing.  I’ve been browsing through backyard farming books, buying ones I feel are a library must such as The Encyclopedia of Country Living, watching anything on YouTube on gardening how to’s.  My new celebrity is Novella Carpenter that wrote Farm City, The Education of an Urban Farmer.  Fun book to read (not for the vegetarian though).  She and her partner moved to the worst part of Oakland and began farming an abandoned lot next to their house.  She raises poultry and goats, bees, even pigs for a time but that was too much.  The lot has a huge veggie garden with fruit trees.  I love this clip about her and her urban farm.  Vegans and vegetarians be warned, she does raise meat to eat.  There will be blood.

I would love to meet this lady.  But what I love about backyard farmers the most is when they spend almost no money to develop a mini farm that feeds them abundantly for years.  As one farmer calls it, “money on trees”.  They use what they find or is already there and create a sort of paradise.

I don’t know how well I’ll do or how far I’ll go.  I’m still a bit shocked that I have hens.  That was a move that seemed so advanced…so revolutionary, to have chickens in the suburbs, that I only dreamt big chicken dreams until grannie told me to get over it and get some hens.  Now I have 4 hens bossing me about my own yard.  They have a cute yellow cottage and a white picket gate to a yard that goes along the side of our house (all free).  I hear my girls clucking and scratching about under my bedroom window and I swear I hear them talking in the middle of the night even with my windows shut tight to the cold winter nights.

I’m already thinking bees.  I would be a very good bee mother, not stealing all their honey greedily and giving them sugar water for the winter as so many farmers do.  What a crime.  I think I’ll wait for the boys to get a bit bigger…or not, maybe just have some Epi-pens on hand just in case we have an allergy.

But gardening, that is something I can really get crazy on.  We have 5,260 square feet of yard.  It’s less than 1/12th of an acre.  I didn’t think it was much land until I saw a small family farming in the city on 4,000 acres and they were feeding themselves year round.  There were goats and chickens, trees and row after row of beds.

We have a cement patio in our yard.  We have a lot of grass…and fences.  There is so much potential in each situation.  We could grow grapes and berries on the fences, container gardens and a greenhouse on the cement, dig up the grass and make plots.

I’m really into the food forest idea.  I’m learning about companion planting of say corn, beans, and squash together.  I’m learning about growing bamboo to use for building fences, trellis, and more.  Potatoes grown in tubs, the magic of mulch, and how bees not only give you honey but make your crops more abundant.

It’s very addictive.  With each step of self-reliance and green living, I find myself doing all sorts of little things to further slow down the pace of the modern world that tries to creep in through the cracks of our magical world.  The wood floor vacuum broke down and would be easy to fix but I chose a handmade broom that I’m currently in love with.  Dishes are hand washed and the thought of taking up precious space in my little 1940’s kitchen for a dishwasher is forbidden.  I hang my clothes on a line outside most of the year and felt like I was taking a step backward when the dryer had to be plugged in this winter.  I have a wooden rack on back up but we have the heating on the ceiling and clothes take so long to dry that they begin to stink.

I love my coffee and recently I replaced Mr. Coffee with a stovetop espresso maker and a stove top percolator.  Bali had a conniption the first morning he couldn’t work the espresso maker (it was 5:00 in the morning and he hadn’t been trained, I would have hit the roof myself).  Now he makes himself coffee every morning with either the espresso or the percolator.  He never used to make coffee in the morning before work so I know he loves it.

Paper books are still big in our house and waiting for popular movies from the library trumps renting from Redbox or Netflix.

For me homesteading means that I do a lot of garden therapy year round, we feed ourselves for pennies, there is a connection to the land happening, and an old pioneering instinct is tapped into.  Our farm is creative and fun to build, it gives my husband and myself great pride in every victory.  I am thrilled when I can eat from the yard.  We love our hens.

Bali is not thrilled with the idea of rain barrels because he doesn’t feel we have space but he always talks about grey water.  He agrees on digging up the grass and planting food but he doesn’t agree on wood chips everywhere, as in no grass just a land of mulch.  He also is completely against getting rid of the garage.  If I had my way and extra money I would tear out the detached garage and all the cement.  That ain’t happening on his watch.

Oh well, I’ll negotiate on grey water and more veggie plots on the lawn.  When I get more courage I’ll get bees and a couple more hens.  But that is it!  Maybe…

Homesteading is living like a farmer in the city.  You get the entertainment and convenience of the city and not the isolation of a real rural farmer but all the health and well-being benefits.  You also save a lot of money as you get better at it.  You are growing clean, organic food that is so fresh and packed with nutrition.

As for the budget, that is changed vastly when the gardens produce and the trees mature.  Until then I do what I can to save money in all areas while I buy organics at the Coop.

Do I want to be off grid?  Live in an eco-village?  I’ve checked all these out and I’d say not.  I like small towns, walking to the store, buying burger buns when lazy, having coffee in a cafe and monthly movies at the theater (I keep threatening my family I’m having this again).  I do love some of the modern conveniences.  But I love the old-fashioned ways and the quiet and slow pace.  I’m a walking contradiction.

But what I love the most is being a housewife and staying home with my family.  I don’t want this to ever stop and recently we encountered some issues and I was looking at possibly going back to work and putting my boys in a school and daycare.  Things worked out in our favor but it made me really pursue all avenues of self-reliance and trimming our budget to the thread.

My budget is simply mortgage, food, utilities.  Bali gets free gas at work as part of his manager benefits and we have begun walking a lot.  If we can shop or do the library within walking distance, we do it.  My DirecTV contract will be up in the spring and I will be relieved of that.  I have the smallest internet, home phone, and cell bill ever.  The utilities are small.  Even for AC in the summer we paid half of what our neighbors paid.  I am always looking into other ways to save.

Our groceries are purchased at a very nice health food store in Grass Valley.  It is my one luxury.  Everything is organic now.  I afford it by joining the Coop and getting almost everything in bulk.  I only buy rice, beans, produce, nuts, raisins, flour, coffee, and plant milk and cream.  I make all my food from scratch.    I make everything from granola bars to lentil loaf.  If I crave it I have to make it.  I have a list of things I want to make such as pickles, burger buns, soap.

I do little things too, I save all the bags to reuse, water down dish soap and shampoo, boil toothbrushes instead of buying new every 6 months.  I am back to making all my own house cleaners and will be making laundry detergent again.  I even make my own houseplants from trimmings off the main plants.  Then I get all my needs met with hit movies and popular books by the library.

I write books to make money.  I was a caregiver for a season and that paid for book covers, editing, and sending Arjan to Fox Walkers every Friday for a year.  I also redecorated the living room with beautiful new furniture all under $220 at a high-end thrift store.  My royalties are set aside in a far away bank and automatically deposited.  Any extra home job I get I use for all the luxuries.  I am now considering babysitting to bring in some extra money for vines and seeds, a greenhouse, and doing more work on the house.

Those to me are luxuries.  And the occasional theater movie with that God awful popcorn.

      How to streamline that household budget and building that urban farm. The new year is coming.  I was bewildered when a documentary ask "what will you change in 2018?"  My first thought was how silly to asked that so soon.