They Say It's Your Birthday

Chapter 8

“Yes,” Brian said into the intercom. Someone had just buzzed from the gate that closed off Edna’s Treasures Lane from people who might randomly try to enter.

“Delivery from Bridgeton Pharmacy,” came the reply.

“I’m not expecting anything,” Brian said with a frown.

“I don’t know about that, sir, but I have a delivery for a Brian Kinney.”

“That’s me.”

“Then I’d like to complete the delivery so I can get on to the next one,” the man said, exasperation evident in his voice.

“Last house at the top of the lane,” Brian instructed.

Brian pushed the button to open the gate. He had no idea what would be coming for him from the Bridgeton Pharmacy. The family rarely used that drugstore since it was closer to Claire’s than to them. Brian walked to the front door of the cottage and watched the delivery car pull to a stop in front of the house. The driver hopped out and came to the door carrying a paper bag labeled Bridgeton Pharmacy. Brian looked quizzically at the bag before taking it from the man.

“Do I owe you for this?” Brian asked.

“Nope, all paid for.”

“Are you sure you’ve delivered this to the right place?” Brian asked as he studied the bag looking for any indication of what might be inside.

“If you’re Brian Kinney, then this is the right place.”

“Thanks, I guess,” Brian said pulling a ten dollar bill from his pocket. He extended it towards the man.

“That’s not necessary,” the driver replied.

“Take it,” Brian ordered.

With a nod, the man pocketed the money and got back into his car. He quickly disappeared down the lane.

Brian gave the bag another inquisitive look before carrying it into the house and shutting the door behind him. He walked into the kitchen and dropped the bag on the kitchen table. He went over to the coffeemaker and poured himself a mug of coffee. He turned and stared at the bag sitting on the table. His hackles were up about this whole thing. He wanted to know what was in the bag, but he was also afraid of what he might find. He wondered who had sent him something from a pharmacy. He knew he hadn’t ordered anything. If it was a prescription, he might be able to trace who had ordered it for him. Brian continued to stare at the bag.

After a couple of minutes, a thought occurred to him. Maybe Justin had ordered this and forgot to tell him. That would explain things, Brian decided, except Justin would have put his own name on the order, not Brian’s. And what would Justin have been ordering from the drugstore, especially from that particular pharmacy. Surely Justin wasn’t sick. He had seemed fine that morning, when he left for Pittsburgh and a meeting with Sidney at the gallery.

Brian walked decisively towards the kitchen table. He picked up the bag and ripped it open. Out fell a box that looked like any other box of medicine, salve or ointment that you might purchase in a drugstore. It wasn’t a prescription. Brian breathed a silent sigh of relief. He grabbed the box and turned it to read the front of it. Voltaren Emulgel it read. What the fuck was Voltaren Emulgel! He turned the box and read the info on the side. It was for back and joint pain. You rubbed it on areas that were causing pain. Fuck!

Brian dropped the box on the table and picked up the remnants of the bag. There was a paper inside. He knew immediately what this was. He pulled it out of the torn bag and read:

When those little aches and pains develop as they inevitably will, here’s a supply of something that will ease your discomfort.

Still looking out for you as you age gracefully!

Brian shook his head. This was obviously another un-gift. How many times was he going to be reminded that he was getting old? Brian took a sip of his coffee and let his mind wander to who might be doing this.

After a few minutes of fruitless thought Brian realized he was no closer to figuring out who was behind these un-gifts. He decided that rather than brood about it he should just go with the flow. With a little chuckle Brian stood up and walked to the sink to rinse his coffee mug. “Go with the flow,” he mumbled. Maybe that was what aging gracefully was all about.

*****

Brian was up in his attic office finishing up reviewing a contract that Part Deux was about to sign with a new company, when the house phone rang. Brian glanced at the clock realizing that he had been at his paperwork for longer than he realized. The kids would be home from school soon. He stretched his back feeling the twinge that he had experienced several times lately, a twinge that he never used to have. Maybe he should try that Voltaren crap.

Finally he picked up the phone as it continued to ring. “Hello,” he said.

“Mister Brian?”

“Yes, who is this?”

“Curtis.”

“Curtis? Is something wrong?” Brian asked as his worry antenna went up. Curtis hadn’t called him for a long time.

“No, nothing’s wrong,” Curtis said uncertainly. “I’m sorry to bother you.”

“You’re not bothering me, Curtis. I’m just surprised by your call.”

“I know,” Curtis said. “I should call you more often to thank you for giving me a new life.”

“I didn’t mean it like that. I don’t want you to feel obligated to call me.”

“I don’t feel obligated,” Curtis replied. “I feel … grateful. And sometimes I’m so happy that I forget what my life could have been like if I had tried to mug some other guy.”

Brian chuckled. “Lucky you, that you tried to knife me,” he said with humor in his voice. “And lucky me, that you were so bad at it.”

“You’ll never know how lucky I feel,” Curtis assured him.

“I have some idea.”

“Well, I should be more grateful, so I’m doing it now.”

“Why now?”

“Huh?”

“Why did you decide to call me now?” Brian asked.

“Well, my dads were talking about as how you’re going to have a birthday soon, a … um, a big birthday.”

“Your dads were talking about that, were they?”

“Yes they were, and I wanted to know how old you’d be, and when they told me, I thought … well, I thought I should call.”

“Before I kicked the bucket.”

“No, no, nothing like that, Mister Brian. It just reminded me that I hadn’t seen you for a while, and that I really should thank you again for everything you’ve done for me.”

“It’s your dads that you should be thanking,” Brian admonished.

“I already done that, but you deserve thanks too.”

“Okaay, so I accept your thanks and you’re very welcome.”

“That’s good then.”

“Yes it is,” Brian said. He expected Curtis to hang up at that point, but the line stayed live even though nothing was being said. “Is there something else?” Brian asked as the silence from the other end of the line continued.

“I … I was wondering if there was something I might be able to give you for a present for your … big birthday.”

“I don’t need any presents,” Brian said testily.

“I know you don’t, but presents mean as much to the person who gives them as they do to the person who gets them – sometimes more.”

Brian thought about that for a minute. His un-gifts certainly had a lot of thought behind them. Was someone getting as much … fun out of them as Brian was getting in the form of torture? The thought made the corners of Brian’s mouth curl up in a smile.

“Do you know anything about un-gifts, Curtis?” Brian asked. Brian knew he was grasping at straws, but he wanted to know who was behind his un-gifts.

“Huh? What’s an un-gift?”

Curtis’ reaction told Brian all he needed to know. The lad had nothing to do with his secret gifter. “It’s not important,” Brian mumbled.

“It sounds important,” Curtis contradicted. “I kind of like the idea of an un-gift. Maybe I could give you one of those.”

“No, Curtis, I don’t think you need to do anything like that. Your thanks is all I need.”

“Maybe I could make you a card,” Curtis suggested. “Would that be all right?”

Brian thought about all the cards Bree had made over the years. She had made one for Curtis when he first joined their extended family. “Sure, Curtis. If you’d like to make me a card, that would be just fine.”

“I wonder if I could put Bree’s rainbow on it.”

“I don’t think she would like that. It’s her trademark,” Brian warned.

“Right. Maybe I can think up a trademark of my own.”

“That would be a good idea.”

“Okay, thanks, Mister Brian.”

“Good to talk to you, Curtis.”

“Bye.”

Brian set the phone back in its cradle. Curtis was such a good kid. It was nice to know that things had turned out so well for him. Brian wondered what kind of card Curtis might come up with.

“I need another coffee,” Brian said to himself as he looked at the time on the clock on his desk, “before the kids get home from school.” He headed down the stairs to get himself one.

*****

The little bell above the door jingled as Hunter walked into the diner, scanning the booths. He did a double take as a big smile graced his face. He watched as several young men walked past the booth trying to get the stunning occupant’s attention. Without looking up from his Wall Street Journal, the brunet head shook his disinterest. Hunter continued to watch as he made his way over to the booth and gave a low wolf whistle.

“Not…interested,” Brian began as Hunter plopped himself down opposite Brian in the booth, grinning like a fool.

“Does blondie know that you’re sportin’ new specs?” Hunter teased.

“No, and it’s none of your business what I tell Justin,” Brian growled.

“Or not.” Hunter made a gesture toward the fashionable rimless glasses that were currently perched upon the aquiline nose. “Since when?”

“Since I’ve been relegated to reading every fucking contract Kinnetik is about to sign,” Brian groused. “I was developing headaches and the doctor sent me to an Opthamologist who recommended reading glasses.”

“What’s wrong with Ted? I thought contracts are his expertise.”

“They are but he needed some help. Even in this horrid economy, advertising goes on. I’m not really complaining but my eyes aren’t as sharp as they used to be,” Brian admitted as he took off his new glasses, carefully placing them into their case then into his pocket.

“Maybe you need a younger guy in your life to help lead you around,” Hunter said with a leer.

“I have a younger guy in my life; he leads me around just fine. Does your husband know that you’re still jonesing for me?”

“I’m still younger than blondie, and Nick and I have an agreement.” Hunter chuckled as he saw the eyebrow arch up. “He doesn’t mention my little obsession regarding one stud of Liberty Avenue…”

“Ex-stud,” Brian interrupted.

“Ex-stud. And I don’t mention his ‘thing’ for Reese Witherspoon.” The eyebrow went up higher. “I know, I know,” Hunter said putting his hands up in the air. “He’s as bent as a dog’s hind leg but he loves that actress.”

“We all have our little ‘things,’” Brian admitted.

“Yeah, but at least you and Michael lusted after a man.” Hunter referred to Brian and Michael’s fantasies about Patrick Swayze when they were teens. Hunter wrinkled his nose at the thought.

“Hey, I have my blond, Nick has his,” Brian teased. Hunter glared but ignored the crack. “You want lunch? I’m buying,” Brian offered.

“No thanks, I wish I could but I have to get back to the center after I give you the tour of the Joan Kinney halfway house,” Hunter said proudly, making Brian smile.

“I could have met you there,” Brian commented.

“And miss having you chauffeur me around in the fuck-mobile?! No way, man, I may be crazy but I’m not stupid.”

“Then let’s get this show on the road,” Brian declared as he stood, threw some bills onto the table then ushered Hunter out of the diner.

“Wow, this is still some hot machine,” Hunter commented as he ran his hand across the hood of the vintage Corvette. “You know, I don’t think I ever thanked you for what you did that day,” Hunter said softly as he looked up into Brian’s handsome face. Brian smiled softly. Hunter’s eyes were glittering with unshed tears. Both men thought back to when Hunter and Michael fled Pittsburgh in Brian’s Corvette.

“You thanked me in more ways than you can ever imagine,” Brian said sincerely as he swiped away one errant tear from Hunter’s face. “You’re the Master of Social Work; you’ve performed miracles here. What more can a stud want?” Brian said with a little smirk to lighten the moment.

“Ex-stud,” Hunter said as he wiped his eyes.

Brian opened the car door for Hunter then shut it when Hunter got situated. He sprinted around to the driver’s side then got in to start the car.

“Hey, no fingerprints on the leather,” Brian grumbled as he caught Hunter caressing the soft leather interior. “What are you doing?” Brian asked as he looked over his shoulder before pulling out into traffic. Hunter appeared to be…hunting…for something.

“Just wondering where you hide the cum towel,” Hunter laughed as Brian gunned the engine, the inertia slamming Hunter against the seat. Hunter laughed louder as the Corvette’s powerful engine rumbled all the way to the former Kinney home.

*****

“This is amazing,” Brian exclaimed as he looked around his former home. John had modernized the kitchen, added a second bathroom and an extension toward the back.

“I’m thinking of buying a few more houses around town,” the master of social work stated with a grin.

“Any problems?”

“With the building? No. Some of the neighbors weren’t too keen on ‘us’ moving in but the boys have grown on them.” Hunter smiled gleefully. “I’ve encouraged the boys to be helpful to some of the more elderly neighbors. You know, sweeping sidewalks, cutting down dead tree branches, that sort of thing. Helping with groceries.”

“Has it worked?”

“Yeah. It also hasn’t hurt that the Mayor made a surprise visit one afternoon. He shook hands and made nice nice with the neighbors. The kids were blown away and the neighbors got their picture taken with hiz-honor.” Hunter smiled like the cat that ate the canary.

Brian toured the whole house. He was truly happy for the kids and for Hunter but suddenly felt a wave of sadness and loss. It must have shown on Brian’s face.

“Brian?” Hunter said gently. Brian just shook his head then walked out the front door.

“I’m so proud of you,” Brian said as he drew the younger man into a hug. Hunter felt Brian shudder for a moment. He returned Brian’s hug then the two friends went back to the Corvette.

“I’ll drive you back to the center,” Brian said as he started up the motor.

“Hey, I can drive, if you’re not feeling up to it,” Hunter said with a grin.

“In your dreams!” Brian snarked and the world returned to normal.

When they pulled up to the alley for the bathhouse and drop-in center, Hunter got out.

“Thanks for the ride,” Hunter said as he got out of the car.

“Thanks for the tour,” Brian responded. Hunter stopped him before Brian could pull away.

“I almost forgot, I have something for you,” Hunter said just before he sprinted to the drop-in center and then back to the car.

“This was delivered by messenger this morning. I knew we were going to meet today so I didn’t bother bringing it to Kinnetik.” Hunter handed the small package to Brian.

Brian took the package. It was one of those padded shipping envelopes, about 5x7 inches big.

“Hey, Brian, is the B&B booked?” Hunter asked, breaking Brian out of his momentary stupor.

“Hmm?”

“The new cottage. Is it booked? Nick and I are taking a couple of weeks off. We’d like to come up there and chill.”

“No, there’s no one there. You’ll have the place to yourself.”

“Cool! We’ll see you soon,” Hunter said with a cheery smile. “Bye!”

“Bye,” Brian replied automatically as he stared at the envelope. He was almost afraid to open it. “Get a grip, Kinney,” he muttered to himself then rolled his eyes at the ridiculousness of the situation.

“Oh great, now I know senility has crept in, I’m talking to myself,” he griped. “Here goes nothing.”

Brian ripped open the top of the envelope then shook out the contents. A small gift box fell into his lap. It was the sort of box that could hold a brooch or a pair of earrings. Brian’s eyebrow automatically went up.

“What the fuck?” he growled when he took the top of the box off. In it was a bottle of Visine. Tucked in the box was a small note.

For those late nights when you’re hard at work.

Looking out for you as you age gracefully!

“Well fuck me!” Brian exclaimed as he closed up the box, shoved it back in the envelope then tossed it into the back of the ‘Vette. He pulled out into traffic then headed for home.