The Farmer and Dale Chapter 9

The Farmer and Dale


Chapter 9


An hour later, Dale was pacing the floor. Rick had been gone for 45 minutes and he couldn't help but wonder what was going on. He remembered the last time Rick had faced his mother. He’d returned home with a red and swollen cheek from the blow she'd dealt him. Dale’s mouth tightened at the memory.

Still, he thought to himself, Gerald had said that Rick's mother had been immediately sorry for her action, an action that was explained by incidents out of the past. Dale could, in a way, understand and even forgive Mrs. Hunter, but still the worry of not knowing was driving him nuts. When the phone rang he jumped, his heart pounding. Carefully he picked up the handset and breathed a sigh of relief at the sound of Rick's voice.

"Dale. Mom wants to meet you. Would you come down, please?"

Dale’s eyes went round as panic set in. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, babe, it's ok. I promise."

"Maybe I should wear that old football helmet that's up in the attic." Dale quipped.

"Dale." Rick's admonishment was clearly heard in that one word.

"All right, I'm sorry. I'll be down in a few minutes."

Dale hung up and immediately cursed. This meeting of the in-laws would be a nerve wracking business at best. With their history, he felt he was in for a very uncomfortable time. He decided against changing his clothes. Jeans and a polo shirt were respectable enough. Slipping on his shoes, he decided to hoof it to the Hunters. Any delay would be welcome.

Eyes on first the pavement under his feet and then the Hunter farm which loomed closer with every step, Dale fought to keep his heart from jumping into his throat. The damned thing seemed intent on shifting positions and strangling him. If not for the fact that Rick was waiting, he would never have made the turn onto that long, gravel driveway that felt like the path to doom. Inevitably, he arrived at his destination and found Rick waiting for him on the front porch. Rick pulled him in for a hug and Dale stiffened in his arms.

"Relax. I told you, it's okay." Rick murmured in his ear before taking the lobe in his mouth for a quick nibble.

"Damn, Rick, not now!" Dale whispered urgently, trying to extricate himself from Rick's embrace.

Rick grinned and relented. He ushered Dale into the house. By-passing the living room, he took the lead and pulled Dale into the kitchen.

Dale was confronted by the sight of Gerald, who sitting at the kitchen table, gave him a wink. Dale's mother was at the sink and turned when they entered. Dale was struck by her beauty. For a woman in her 50's she was more than well preserved. Her dark hair shone and had very little gray. Her blue eyes were bright and Dale could swear he felt the welcome in them. He was sure when she came forward and took his hand.

"Dale, I'm so happy to meet you. Please sit. Would you like some coffee? Or we have tea, soda, juice, you name it."

"Coffee will be fine, Mrs. Hunter," he told her then mentally winced, hoping she wouldn't deliver it into his lap.

The coffee appeared before him, on the table and in a cup and Dale winced again at the unfairness of his thought. His gaze met Rick's. Rick seemed to understand and shook his head slightly, before giving him a teasing smile. Dale returned his look with a subtle shrug.

Mrs. Hunter took a place at the table. "I insist you call me Irene. What is they always say? Something to the effect that Mrs. Whoever is my mother-in-law?"

Gerald and Rick chuckled. Dale couldn't help but smile. "Thank you, Irene."

"You're welcome. Now Dale, let's get right to the heart of the matter."

Dale felt a frisson of panic and shot Rick a ‘help me’ look but found no succor in that direction. Gerald was equally noncommittal. Dale was most definitely on his own.

"I was wrong."

"I beg your pardon, ma'am?" Dale was astonished.

"Now don't go ma'aming me or we're not going to get along at all well," Irene teased.

"Sorry, Irene, please continue," Dale replied.

She looked at Rick. "I like him, he's very polite. You could learn a thing or two here, son."

"Mommm," Rick whined, drawing out the word and giving it his best, little kid, imitation.

Gerald snorted and it was Dale's turn to chuckle.

Irene sighed. "The things I put up with. Now Dale, seriously, I've apologized to Rick for... well, let's just say it, for hitting him.” She gave her son such a look of remorse it tore at Dale’s heart to see it. This woman sitting before him was obvious not a cruel or vindictive person. Rick reached out and took one of her hands. She gave him a grateful smile and turned her attention back to Dale. “I'm not going to beat around the bush here. I was shocked when Rick told us about you. My reaction was prompted by things that Gerald has explained to you. I'm sure you understand my reaction, bad as it was."

Dale nodded but kept silent.

"I want you to know that I'm sorry for the way I acted. I'm fully prepared and actually pleased to welcome you to the family. I hope you'll find it in your heart to forgive our rocky beginning." She held her hand out to Dale. "Friends?" she questioned hopefully.

Dale took her hand and gave her a sweet, open smile, "Friends." he agreed.

Irene breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. Rick tells me you're a writer and he's following in your footsteps. I think it's wonderful. Farming is a good living for some, but I'd like to see one of my boys make it in some other field. No pun intended."

Everyone laughed, the laughter easing away the last of the tension. After that, they had a good visit, Irene making them promise to come for supper the next evening. Rick and Dale took their leave and enjoyed the leisurely walk back home. Dale was silent during the walk. When they entered the kitchen he sat at the table and looked at Rick.

"I like your mom. I was prepared not to, but I couldn't help it."

Rick sat opposite him and reached for Dale's hand, rubbing his fingers lightly over Dale's knuckles, "I'm glad you like her. Thank you for giving her a chance. She really is a good woman. She's been the most kind and loving person my whole life. Our house was always filled with love and laughter. I'm not saying there was never any discord. When people live in close proximity that's to be expected, especially between brothers and sisters or children and parents. But what I mean is, it could have been a hell of a lot worse."

Dale nodded. "I understand, believe me I do. It's good to know there's someone who'll keep you in line," he teased.

"Ass." Rick squeezed his hand fondly.

Dale smiled, then sobered. "Have you decided whether or not to tell your dad about Steven?"

Rick shook is head. "I'm just not sure. I want to. I know Dad would be glad to know that Steven is happy. But every time I start to say something I feel like..."

"You're betraying your mother?" Dale filled in.

"Yeah." Rick admitted.

Dale rose and walked around the table. Wrapping his arms around Rick's shoulders, he kissed the top of his head. "Let's not worry about it now. Come on. You promised to show me that new chapter you wrote." Rick took Dale's outstretched hand and followed him to the study. "After you show me what you've got. I'll show you what I've got. How ‘bout it?" Dale wiggled his eyebrows.

Rick chuckled and releasing Dale's hand and pulled him in for a hug. Using both of his to squeeze Dale's firm, denim-covered cheeks, he nuzzled his lips against Dale’s ear. "I know what you've got, babe, but I'll be charitable and let you show me again."

"Gee thanks."

* * *

"Hey, Dad, come on in." Rick welcomed his father as, a few days later, he walked in the back door.

Dale and a cup of coffee waited for him at the kitchen table. Gerald greeted him warmly, then sat and took an appreciative sip of Dale's renowned brew. His eyes wandered the cozy kitchen as he relaxed into the solid comfort of the oak chair that he rested in. He approved Dale's choice of the muted celery green paint he'd chosen for the walls, it gave the room a calm, soothing ambience. The air was scented with apples and cinnamon. Dale had proved to be an excellent cook, and Gerald's mouth watered at the thought of the apple pie that even now was baking in the oven.

He took a second sip of his coffee. "There's got to be a little magic in this cup," he sighed, "nothing totally of this earth could taste so good."

Dale gave him a grin. Rick smiled and fidgeted with the ceramic chicken salt and pepper shakers that sat in the middle of the table. He seemed fascinated by them, as though he'd never seen them before. Gerald watched his son over the rim of his cup then spoke a gentle demand.

"All right, son, out with it."

"What?"

"Whatever it is that has you trying to dissect that poor rooster." Gerald took the salt shaker from Rick's hand and set it on the table. He looked at Dale. "Rick never was one for hiding his feelings very well. I could always tell when he had something to confess, it always began this way."

"I know what you mean," Dale agreed giving Rick a look filled with tender and knowing fondness.

Rick knew he had better come out with it – his dad had him cold. "I need to ask a favor," he told him. "Dale's publishing company called. They want me to come to New York to sign a contract for my book."

Gerald rose from the table, Rick doing the same to intercept his dad's congratulatory hug. "That's wonderful news! Your mom is going to be so proud. She'll be calling everyone in the family."

Dale beamed at the two of them. Seeing them together in this way, he could see how Steven had at first mistaken Rick for Gerald. They were the same height, their honey blonde hair the same shade and those eyes, those beautiful, blue-green eyes that so took Dale's breath away, were bequeathed directly from Gerald's DNA. Their body type was similar with Gerald being a bit slimmer than Rick, but no less fit.

He worked hard. Physical labor kept his body honed and healthy. His skin was tanned with very few wrinkles. His face bore laugh lines etched around the eyes, the only real indication that here was a man of greater maturity than first impression might make one assume. At 57, Gerald was fit and hearty and Dale had to admit, a fine looking man. He knew he'd give him more than a second look if circumstances were different.

Rick and Gerald resumed their seats. "The thing is, Dale's got a deadline to beat. He's been a bit distracted lately." Rick shot Dale a wicked look that sent a blush to Dale's cheeks. Gerald chuckled at Dale's bashful display. "I don't want to go to New York by myself. I was hoping you might come with me," Rick offered.

Gerald looked surprised then pleased. He considered a moment. "Well, I think I could find the time for that. Your mother might like to come too, son."

Rick paled slightly and Dale cleared his throat. "Um, that might be a bit of a problem."

"How so?" Gerald asked giving them both a look of puzzled concern.

"We met Steven, Dad," Rick told him.

At Gerald's blank look, Rick clarified. "Steve, your lover, before you married Mom."

A welter of emotions crossed Gerald's eyes; surprise, delight, melancholy and finally a kind of wistful caution. "How did you meet. Where?"

"He's Dale's publisher. We met on the trip to New York. Dale had met him before, but had no idea he was your Steve," Rick explained. "When he saw me, he called me Gerald and then... then it all came out." Rick hesitated. "I would have told you sooner, but I... I wasn't sure I should."

"Your Mom—you wanted to protect your Mom." Gerald guessed.

Rick could only nod.

"It's all right, I understand. But understand this. Years ago, I gave my word to your mother, and I have no intention of going back on it. I had a choice to make and I made it. It damned near broke my heart to let Steve go, but given the opportunity to change it all, I'd stay with your mother. She's my heart. Without her I would never have had the joy of being a father." Gerald cleared his throat.

"I know that I could have been happy with Steve, but even at 21, I knew that I wanted a family, children of my own. If I had never met your mother, I'd most likely be with Steve now; I felt that strongly about him. But I did meet your mother and knowing that I did want that family, that home, I made the best choice for me." Gerald's voice held a note of sure finality, his eyes took on a faraway look.

"Sometimes I'd dream that your mom and Steve would meet and grow to like, even love each other. That maybe the three of us could be together. It was a young man's wishful fantasy, but I'd have done it in a heartbeat, damn the scandal it might cause. I loved them both," Gerald revealed on a wistful note. He shook himself and smiled at Dale and Rick. "Is he all right?"

Rick found himself too touched by his dad's revelations to answer. He looked to Dale. "He's very well, Gerald," Dale told him. "Not long after the two of you split up, he met James, his lover and partner. They've been together almost as long as you and Irene."

Gerald's face lit with delight, his eyes going misty. "I'm so happy to hear that, boys, so very happy." He reached out and took Dale's hand in one of his and Rick's hand in the other, giving them a reassuring squeeze. "Now when do we leave for New York? I want to say hello to an old friend."