Summoning

Chapter 3

(Author's Note: No fetish content in this section, just some conversation to get to know Aaron and his family better. Skip if uninterested.)

"You look better," Aaron's mother observed when he entered the dining room the following morning.

He opened his mouth to respond, but his sister got there first; "Much better. I was worried you were becoming a zombie and would eat our brains."

Aaron stared. And he was the weird one? "I think someone's already got yours."

Rachael flashed a smile.

"Thank you," Aaron said as his mother passed him coffee from the paper holder.

"And also," his mother pushed the bag closer.

"Ooo," he dug into it to find a breakfast sandwich, "I'm starving."

"That's a good sign," his mother smiled approvingly. "You think you can tackle the porch? I want to start using it to store the things we want to keep."

He had to swallow before he responded, "Yeah, no problem."

"Good. But go ahead and take breaks if you need them," she encouraged. "And I'll force one on you later. You can go with me to the dump."

"Really, I feel fine now, but okay."

"Oh - I meant to ask," his mother looked at him while Aaron took a big gulp of coffee. "Do you think we should keep everything in the library?"

Aaron swallowed hard but couldn't think why he had a visceral reaction to that.

"I noticed you only dusted and polished everything. You didn't make up any boxes of stuff to get rid of."

"Uh, well, there's really no reason to get rid of any of it, is there? I'm sure a lot of its valuable. And, uh, well, I guess, it would be weird for the books and stuff not to be there. What else would you want the room for?"

His mother regarded him gently and showed a little smile. Possibly she was equating attachment to the books as his way of holding on to his grandfather. She wasn't wrong.

"All right. We can leave it all alone for now," she agreed, "Maybe get someone in from the college later to see if they want anything. Dad would've liked that, I think."

"Yeah," Aaron smiled.

When he finished eating and sipped the last of his coffee, Aaron headed out to the huge enclosed porch. It was full of junk, like most of the house. In his later years, after his grandmother died, his grandfather's tendency to save and savor things became full-on hording. Which came on top of hording that was done by previous generations. This was largely broken furniture that he apparently couldn't throw away or maybe meant to fix as there were tools and things here, too.

Aaron opened the double doors and secured them with bungee cords so that he could throw things out onto the lawn. Compared to the difficulty he had been having earlier in the week, this was easy. Obviously, rather than sedentary college life hindering him, it was whatever bug he had contracted that had now run its course.

It was fun to go through the pieces, decide what was worth saving and throwing the rest out the doors. And then moving that mess to the back of the pick-up, which involved breaking some of it up so that it would fit with yesterday's debris. Returning to the porch, he straightened up the tools and discovered what of the power tools still worked until his mother called him.

The ride to the dump was excruciating because his mother decided to question his social life.

"I'm just saying, it's unusual for a boy your age not to have a girlfriend," his mother said patiently. "And maybe if you spent a little less time online and more time talking to people face to face."

"Mom," Aaron objected. "It's not unusual. Not everyone pairs up."

"But you don't even try."

"Why should I?"

"I just think you might be happier-"

"I'm happy," he said flatly.

"Sweetie, I just want what's best for you. That's all. I'm not trying to push you into anything. I just think you should try it."

"Try what?"

"Having a girlfriend."

Aaron looked over at his mother, who was resolutely looking at the road.

"Try it before you decide it's not for you. You know, like anything."

"Is this seriously a conversation asking me not to be gay?"

"You know I love and support you no matter what," she covered her ass, "But how do you know you don't like something until you try it?"

"I'm not gay, mom."

"Oh, thank G-d," she sighed.

"I'm bi."

His mother greeted that with silence; there was no way to come back from her previous statement.

"So, you've fisted a woman?" he asked pleasantly.

"What?" she looked startled.

"Well, if you haven't tried it, how do you know you don't like it?"

"Touché," she muttered.

***

"Mom tried to convince me to get a girlfriend and stop being gay," he reported to Rachael later, while they moved furniture out onto the porch. Their mother was in the basement.

"Did she?" she laughed.

"Mhm. Had a whole speech about not knowing you don't like something until you try it. One, two, three," he spoke in cadence so they could lift a loveseat together.

Rachael didn't respond until they had put the loveseat down against the wall on the porch. "I hope you shamed her over encouraging her son to have sex."

"Nope, better."

"Better?"

"I asked if she had ever fisted a woman. Because, if you haven't tried it," Aaron grinned as his sister broke into roaring laughter.

"You're too nice, though," Rachael said as she calmed down. "I would have gone straight for the throat. And wondered aloud what a divorcée was doing giving relationship advice."

"You are mean."

"I don't deny it," she grinned. "I fully intend to use it if ever she starts bugging me."

"You and your serial boyfriends?"

"Better than parallel, yes?"

Aaron chuckled, "I can't remember the current one's name?"

"Jeff," she grunted as she picked up a chair.

"I thought that was the last one," he spoke before he picked up his.

"Repeat."

"Ah. Good qualities?"

"Some. Where it counts," she grinned.

"Really? He seems so ineffectual."

"No, no, that was Jeremy, the skinny IT guy. Geeks are so eager to please," she said fondly. "But no, Jeff is well muscled. Runs three miles every morning." She put down the chair at the end of the porch and then stepped out of the way so Aaron could deposit his, too.

"Then why'd you break up the first time?"

"No job."

"And now?"

"Diner cook."

"Is he good?"

"Better than me."

"Anyone is better than you."

"Hey, I can follow a recipe."

"Really? T-S-P stands for what?"

"Shut up."