Chapter 11: Chapter 11

The first of May was full of sun and green grass. This was a good omen for Ki. From his office window, he watched the flow of traffic under a clear sky the color of marshmallow Peeps. It reminded him of the stash of his favorite candies during the recent Easter season he had hidden in his desk drawer.

This was the day the contractors would begin paving his driveway. While he felt exhilarated at the prospect of deliveries to his doorstep, he couldn’t help but harbor undying gratitude for that the mud pit driveway. After all, it delivered him Charlie…what a matchmaker. Two star-crossed lovers brought together…well…..neighbors…..now dating…..because of a driveway.

Stupid Mud…….thank you.

Last night, he brought a suitcase to Charlie’s. While the man was still a little resistant to hosting Ki overnight, he refused to let him check into a hotel for the three to four days it would take to finish the driveway project.

“Are you daydreaming?” A cool feminine voice came from the doorway.

“Hell, yes. I’m contemplating an evening of walking the dog, savoring a home cooked meal, and curling up on the couch to watch the most recent Manchester United match.” Ki’s eyes went soft.

His law clerk frowned. “Last I checked. You can’t cook anything more complicated than instant noodles. Are you holding out on us, boss?”

Ki’s face glowed with happiness and humor. “I still can’t cook.”

It was two heartbeats before a feminine shout was heard in every corner of the office.

“Boss got a boyfriend! And he can cook!”

The sun was still bright in the sky when Charlie finished the last of his month-end conference calls. Peaking at his phone, he noticed there was plenty of time to pull together a respectable meatloaf for dinner tonight. Unconsciously, the corners of his mouth creeped up as he pulled out the ground meat, the vegetables and spices. The chopping, measuring, forming was more than relaxing……it was bliss.

Food.

Animals.

Love.

Charlie had never thought it could come to this…….heaven.

The rusty clang of the doorbell interrupted the calm.

Glancing at the clock, it could be Ki. Maybe he lost his key.

Opening the door with a swoosh, he spoke. “Did you forget your key?” The gravely words tinged with humor.

Which quickly died out with the light in his eyes.

Jorge and Rudy, his two older brothers with fiercely dark stares, stood…..on his porch….in New Hampshire.

How did they find him?

Why did they find him?

Standing between the threshold and his brothers, Charlie dropped his hands to his sides, clenched and unclenched his fists. Charlie itched to strike.

“Can I help you?” Charlie kept his voice neutral.

Jorge was a few inches taller than Charlie and the oldest. Bloodshot eyes and faded irises made him look years older than the four years age span between him and his brother.

Alcohol? Drugs? Either way, his wife and two kids probably didn’t have it easy at home.

“Aren’t you going to invite us in?” His voice held just the right amount of menace to make the hair on Charlie’s neck stand up.

“No.”

“Now that’s not hospitable.” Rudy’s nasally voice held just a touch of Southern twang. While the same height as Charlie, Rudy had the distinction of being almost twice the size. Sadly, this mountain was less jolly than Santa and more a malevolent Penguin, without minions and the umbrella. Even his laugh was a bit 1966 Burgess Meredith.

“How in the world did you find me?”

“My sister-in-law knows someone who works for your company. She helped identify the state. Google and title registration did the rest.” Jorge didn’t bother to hide the smugness.

Cursing the free access of information online, he didn’t move. “State your business, then leave.” Icicles dripped from every word Charlie spoke.

With a menacing gleam in his eyes, Jorge spoke again. “We came to bring you home, mijo.”

The ill-placed endearment was like sandpaper rubbed against Charlie’s arms.

“No thanks. I’m busy. Goodbye.” Charlie stepped back in the house and pushed the door closed.

A booted foot stopped the motion.

“Do you want me to call the cops?”

“Look Carlos.” Rudy thrust his way forward. “It’s like this. Dad had an accident and can’t take care of himself. We need someone to live with mom and dad as a caretaker. You’re a damn queer, no marriage, no kids. The rest of us gotta real life. We figure you move in with the parents. Help mom out with no cost to the family.”

Charlie was at a loss. Who travels across the country to bring home a brother they’ve abused for years to care for their parents? Truly, when they were handing out brains, his brothers were off mugging angels for their trumpets.

“Are you going to make us take you by force?” Jorge appeared excited at the prospect.

“That’s called kidnapping.” Charlie deadpanned and wondered why he had ever feared these stupid creatures.

“Not if we’re related.”

“Ummm. Yes. Even if we’re related.” Crossing his arms, Charlie studied the two. They reminded him of the Latinx version of Laurel and Hardy. His father used to watch those shows for hours in all seriousness, hoping to grasp the humor of his newly adopted country. One fat, one thin, neither too bright.

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Confidence began to ebb and flow through Charlie, to the point his fingers tingled. Shoving Rudy back, and nudging the dog inside, he quickly closed the door. Standing on the porch, he glared at the two jokers who beat him unconscious all those years ago.

On the other side of the porch, apprehension flooded Rudy as he witnessed both Charlie’s words and actions. Charlie had always been the pacifist, never sure of himself, the one he could bully without fear of retaliation.

“What kind of son are you, not caring for your parents?”

“You mean the same mother and father who had no issues watching their sons pulverize another son until he landed unconscious in a hospital? Parents that had no issue hiding the assault from the police? Those parents?”

A thunk came from the direction of the driveway, but Charlie did not look. Distractions were not an option with these two.

“You were shacking up with some guy!” Rudy countered.

“And? We weren’t breaking any laws.”

“The laws of this family. The laws of God.” Jorge growled.

“The God I believe in made me this way, so I figure he must love gay people too, even when they live with each other.” The smile on Charlie’s face was a little sad. “And for this family, I gave it up years ago. So, get off my property and never step foot on it again, or I will call the police and file charges.”

“You f’in’ fairy…..” Jorge stepped towards Charlie menacingly with a raised fist.

With a powerful straight punch, Jorge’s backside fell back onto the porch. A roundhouse kick to the head had him laying on it.

“You’ll pay for that, brother!”

The fatter slower Rudy charged. Charlie elbowed him in the gut, which had Rudy doubled over with a groan. An elbow to the back of the neck had him joining his brother breathless on the deck floor.

Less than a second, he whipped out his phone like a pistol and used the emergency button to call the police. Before the brothers could regain their equilibrium, Charlie had given the police his address and a calm, detailed version of the events.

“Not bad. Not bad at all.” Ki’s deep timber came from the bottom of the front steps. “Here, I thought I had to rescue the damsel in distress, but he did it all on his own.”

While his voice seemed full of humor, Ki’s eyes held a fathomless pit of anger.

“Who’s a damsel?” Charlie croaked.

“I’m not done with you.” Jorge pushed himself back to standing.

With a front kick to the back of the man’s legs, Ki knocked Jorge back to the floor. “Oh, yes, you are.”

Crouching down, Ki took the man’s wrinkled collar in his hands. “Listen to me well, brother-in-law.”

Jorge’s eyes grew round with shock.

“I figure you must be the one called Jorge. I did my research on you and found a record of assault sprinkled in with domestic violence charges. I’ve already drawn the paperwork for a restraining order against you. If you ever come within 300 feet of Charlie ever again, I will see you in jail so fast, you’ll be picking wedding china with your cellmate before you can appeal.” He shoved Jorge’s head towards the deck-floor.

It was rather satisfying to have a witness to him finally standing up to his brothers. Charlie failed to smother a laugh at Ki’s threat.

“And you…..El Chapo.” Ki hit the man up the side of the head. I’m not sure which of the brothers you are….”

“Rudy.” Charlie offered.

“Rudy. I didn’t see a record for you, friend.” Ki smacked Rudy’s head again. “But good news, after today, you’ll get one. There was a record of the assault on Charlie the first time, but no names. I’ll work with the local police in Illinois and make sure to give them yours.”

Rudy paled.

“Oh, and brother-in-laws, let me introduce myself.” He pulled out two cards and dropped it down their shirts. “My name is Erkin Roberts, esquire. I’m the most successful defense attorney you’ll ever meet.” Hitting Rudy’s head, he continued. “I’m not telling you this so you’ll hire me. I’m telling you this so that you understand that I’m a lawyer and I know a lot of really bad people.”

This time, he slapped Jorge’s head. So hard the other side hit the porch railing.

“If I even see your faces again, I’ll know you came to harass my husband and will act accordingly.”

Wiping his hands, Ki stood and kissed Charlie on the cheek.

“Hi honey. I’m home.”

Still watching the two groaning men on the floor, Charlie mocked.

“Husband? We aren’t married yet.”

“Yet.” From the back, Ki wound his arms around Charlie and rested his chin on his shoulder.

“Mmmmmmm. Cheeky.”

“But you love me despite my charm.”

Charlie paused. “You’re right.”

“Where did you learn to fight like that? Remind me not to piss you off. That roundhouse was pretty amazing.”

“I know it looks like the Diaz family are a group of cognitively challenged individuals, but my parents managed to give birth to at least one person who learned from his mistakes. After my hospital stay, I signed up for self-defense classes.” Charlie sniffed. “No way I’d allow something like that to happen again.”

“Mmmmmm.”  Ki inhaled the fresh air, the smell of Charlie’s lemon-lime body wash, and felt peace. “What’s for dinner?”

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