The Saint of Carleton Estates

by DevlinCarnate

Copyright© 2019 by DevlinCarnate

Romantic Story: The power of belief can be a funny thing. Bobby O'Malley became more than meets the eye, because he believed.

Caution: This Romantic Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   Fiction   Tear Jerker   Science Fiction   Ghost   Cheating   Slow   .

Author’s Note: Someone far smarter than I once said: “Every love story is a ghost story, and vice versa.”

This is a long, slow piece without a much sex, and what sex there is, isn’t very explicit. So, please stop here if that’s what you’re looking for.

The idea here came to me during a very dark time, and the humor of it was exactly what I needed then. I got out of that bad space and thought I would share this here. I hope you find that this is worth the time it takes you to read it. All sex is very straight forward “vanilla” and all people engaging in sex in the story are represented to be over 18 years of age.

Bobby O’Malley was never going to impress anyone on the first meeting. Or maybe even the second, either.

He was modest in all measures of a man and, in a few of those measures, even modest might’ve been a stretch. Pale, chalky skin, a slight slouch in his shoulders which made him stand a few inches below the six-foot-even he rose to when Doc Bannion told him to “stand up straight so I can getcher height, Bobby”. Mousy brownish hair that was thinning when he was in his early twenties. He couldn’t grow much of a beard either. Kind of a big nose. The eyes were the thing, though. Pale blue, with a light hazel ring on the inner edge of the pupil. People who knew him would remember the eyes and then say how they kinda made all the other features a bit more handsome.

Athletically, he was decent. He played baseball as a kid but stopped when pitchers started throwing curveballs. Basketball and football never interested him. Later in life, he was pretty good at horseshoes and could occasionally sink a few consecutive balls in an eight-ball game down at the Frederickton Pub once in a blue moon. But sports weren’t Bobby’s forte.

Academics passed him by at well. He graduated high school, somewhere near the bottom of the class, but he wasn’t dumb. College just wasn’t in his stars. The tuition money wasn’t there, anyways, so that was something left for the other kids born in better circumstances.

He had a funny tick in his heart - an extra, quiet but infrequent ‘lub’ added to the ‘lub-dub’ so the Army wouldn’t take him either. After graduation, Bobby just did some odd jobs around town, working in an oil change place before getting on with a crew which was building houses in one of the half dozen developments that had popped up over the previous five years. The developers did most of the training, and Bobby was a young, relatively strong back and was actually pretty reliable. Not the first one chosen for the work team, but he was chosen nonetheless.

His folks were decent people but they were, like Bobby, seemingly on the left-side of the Bell-curve for most of the parts of life where “good things” are measured, somewhere in that “lesser” pile of things. They weren’t bad people at all; they loved their son, went to church on Sundays, paid their bills when they could. There just wasn’t a lot left over for things beyond the bare minimum.

Overall, Bobby wasn’t a loser. He just wasn’t one of life’s winners.

But Bobby was a saint, and on the day the final trumpet sounds, he will be there, taking humanity’s inventory alongside the angels.

While he worked hard and lived his life, Bobby lived in an area of town called Carleton Estates. Despite the somewhat grand-nature of the name, it was what most folks would call a trailer park. Cheap, throwdown homes with minimal actual real estate space or amenities. The bare minimum for living, with neighbors up close and personal.

For Bobby, it was enough. Most folks living there were like him - good people who were just playing the hand that they’d been dealt. Sure, there were some rough characters that took up quarters occasionally, but they tended to flare up fast and then burn out. The people that stayed - weren’t they all just trying to get along?

There was a quiet inertia in those kinds of places that kept people in line. That same inertia tended to keep people in places like that.

The geography of the Estates was such that it bordered on a river. Well, it was more a stream most times, only a few yards across, but when wetter weather came through, it got a bit of a current before it widened a little further past the Estates, where it opened back up and the waters slowed. At this point of widening, the river also deepened more, to about twenty feet or so. Bobby’s place was one of those along the small bluff above the river and a little rusted out fence across the back of his lot set the border to the Estates.

Bobby saw it as having his own place and a bit of independence. He worked, saw his friends and generally lived the life of a young man in his twenties. There was play time and there was work time. Time in the Estates was spent in his own little corner, as well as a few of his friends who also lived there after getting out of school; they held similar jobs and lived similar lives. In summer time, there were get-togethers, with small wading pools turned into makeshift coolers. Snacks and music brought out the neighbors and there was a general good time had by most.

Bobby made some money. The thing was, he’d never known a life different than what he’d had. His folks were a touch better off, but not much, and they’d always been careful with money. There had never been luxuries for him when he was growing up, so once Bobby had the basic necessities, he didn’t think he was missing anything. Besides buying a few rounds at The Fred, and maybe a nice meal in town and a repair or two on his car, there wasn’t much to spend it on, so he did what his folks recommended, he saved. Bobby’s dad had taught his son a few things about turning a wrench, so Bobby was pretty handy about keeping things running without a lot of cash.

For a while, this was his world. His friends, his folks and every now and then, a little bit of fun. In the scheme of things, that was the world for him, and that was all right.

The construction crew moved around as new jobs popped up. Soon, they were building in adjacent towns around the county. Bobby stayed with them, doing his job and living his life. There were a few nights out in those other places, with friends like Brett and Coy, friends who also lived in the Estates and also worked on the construction crews that were needed to build the houses for those on the right-hand side of the American Dream.

Brett was two years older than Bobby, and while they were acquaintances in school, they hadn’t been all that close during those years. Coy was a year younger and had moved into town after school from the next county over. The three wound up together working for the developers and began a solid friendship. There was teasing and roughhousing, as men that age are prone to engage in, but nothing ever got too serious. There was more than a bit of respect within the group as three young guys just trying to get by in life when all of the breaks in life don’t go your way.

One of those nights out, Bobby had driven the carpool to work that day, so he was taking his drinks in iced tea, rather than beer. Bobby was good about that; he never once tried to sneak in a beer or two on the sly. Coy, Brett and anyone else in the carpool that day were his friends, and Bobby was grateful to his friends. He’d never do anything that would endanger or hurt them. He was raised to respect his friends.

They were in a gin mill called Nell’s, though as far as anyone could tell, there was no Nell involved with the place. The shaved gorilla behind the bar was Benny, and he looked like he had always been there and that they had built Nell’s around him. There was nothing fancy about the place, it was about men enjoying their drinks, but truth be told, they may have been enjoying the waitress a little more.

Emmeline Brown waited tables at Nell’s and took classes at the community college during the day. She was a solid woman with broad hips and big legs. Not fat, but robust and curvy. Her chest was commensurate with the rest of her. Not oversized but her last boyfriend described her as “a handful and a pinch”. She had been at Nell’s for a few years; her dad had known Benny, or maybe he had carved Benny from some large stone that was too big to move.

Regardless, by the time Bobby and the boys were spending time in Nell’s, she knew the drill. Drinks, fast and cheap, tolerate the occasional hand on the ass and more frequent leers and flirting of the regulars. For that, they tipped and made it possible for her to go to school so she could get out of Nell’s and onto a better life. Emmy was good about it; a good-natured lady could do well at Nell’s. The regulars didn’t mean anything by the groping and to the outsiders, she was a pleasant and forgettable distraction while they were having their drink.

Emmy dropped off the round as Coy was laughing about a rookie on his painting crew who, on orders from Coy, had spent the day trying to get the local Home Depot to mix up a can of spotted paint for a customer’s special request. As they were laughing, Emmy set the round down and presented the bill.

“Get that, will ya Bobby?” Coy asked.

Bobby didn’t even think. He reached in his wallet and paid Emmy. She looked at him a little funny, but took the cash. The laughter continued as they planned the next prank on the new guy.

Emmy brought the change back, but hesitated before presenting the billfold back to Bobby. The guys were laughing, Bobby along with them. Emmy bent over and whispered. “Here’s your change, Bobby.” He stopped laughing, but held a smile.

“Thank you, Emmy,” he said, his voice quiet but clear.

“Why d’you let them do that to you, Bobby?” Her voice was low, as she didn’t want to cause a scene at the table.

“Huh?” He leaned away from the table, understanding her need to keep their conversation away from the boys.

“You’re not drinking and they are. Why are you paying for the round? I didn’t even get you another ice tea.”

He looked at her for a second with those pale, watery eyes. He wasn’t sure of what she was asking, although it was a fairly simple question.

“I still got my iced tea. I don’t need another one,” he said

“I know that Bobby, but these boys are taking advantage of you, of your good nature. Why d’ya let them do that?”

Bobby got it now. He smiled at Emmy, a relaxed, appreciative grin, showing his chipped incisor. That smile and those eyes gave Emmy a warm, welcome feeling she’d never really had when serving the boys before. “They’re my friends, Emmy. I’ll always help my friends.”

It seemed hokey to Emmy. She had waited on the boys before, and while they were careful with their hands, their eyes did wander at times. They tipped enough but weren’t overly generous. Conversations were mostly about cars or work. All in all, they didn’t seem like the best guys in the world; not the deepest conversations or the most welcoming. But they were OK by Bobby apparently. She just hated to see people get used.

Bobby tipped her 30% on the round. Emmy grinned, “Would you like another iced tea Bobby?”

“Nah, but thank you Emmy,” he grinned. “You look very nice tonight.” There was that grin and the warm feeling again.

When they left, Bobby made sure that a better tip than usual was left for Emmy and Benny. He waved at her as he walked out the door.

The visits to Nell’s continued, sometimes twice a week. It seemed Bobby was designated driver more often than not. Likewise, it seemed that Bobby would pick up a few rounds as the boys drank their beers. This still rubbed Emmy the wrong way, but he never complained about it, he just helped his friends as they asked.

So, with Benny’s approval, Emmy made sure his tea was freshened up regularly. There seemed to be times when she noticed Bobby looking at her with his crooked smile and his blue eyes. Her tips from the boys had also improved. She could sense Bobby was behind that, too.

One week, as the weather warmed and then days got longer, Nell’s put some tables outside. They called it ‘al fresco seating’ but sitting in cheap patio furniture in a parking lot was more like it. Still, warmer, longer days were nice and made the beers go down easier. The boys were close to finishing up their work on this particular development, and there would be a time in the near future where they might not be back to Nell’s. Bobby paid for a round, again, and left the table to give the billfold to Emmy. He looked a bit nervous; the grin was a little thinner and the eyes were a bit more open. She’d seen men squaring up their courage before and she’d had this conversation.

“Hey Emmy,” Bobby’s head was tilted down a little, and he was looking at her through the hair hanging down in his eyes. “I was wondering if you’d be interested in maybe getting a tea with me or going out someplace.”

“I can’t date customers, Bobby,” she sighed. “It’s bad for business.”

He actually relaxed and the grin broadened. “Oh, that’s OK, we’re finished with our contract at the end of the month. We won’t be coming back here anymore.”

This news hit Emmy a little harder than she expected. “You won’t be coming back here after that?”

“Nope. We’re off to Chesterburg when we’re done. New townhouses going in there. Should be close to a year’s work there.” Chesterburg was in the opposite direction from where Bobby and the boys were commuting from now. They wouldn’t be back.

Emmy had grown to like the boys. They were simple, but they had become good customers and she liked Bobby and his quiet looks at her even more; his generosity and charm had grown on Emmy. She realized she was going to miss him.

Now it was her turn to look nervous. “Well, what would you and I do?”

“Does that mean you’d go out with me? Jeez, well, it depends on you, but I’d like to show you what we built. They’re nice houses, and I’m proud of the we’ve work done. Then I’d take you to the boardwalk by the river. Get something to eat. But mostly, I’d like to talk to you.”

Emmy thought about it for a few seconds; it wasn’t a super exciting plan, but Bobby was sweet and he had grown on her a bit. So, she agreed to bend her rule of not dating customers, and gave Bobby her phone number. The following Tuesday, they did just what Bobby had said he’d do.

Emmy’s expectations were low, but Bobby actually impressed her. He had found a place to shower at the jobsite and changed his clothes so looked a bit more presentable when he picked her up. He was right, the new development the boys had crewed was a few miles away, up on the bluff. The view from there opened up on the valley below, and in the late spring sunset, the view was one Emmy had never seen before, despite living in the area for the last several years. It was beautiful.

Bobby took her to the Boardwalk, which was about halfway between Nell’s and Bobby’s home in the Estates. Once there, they walked for a while along the river, which flowed on timelessly past them towards some distant ocean. Bobby surprised her with reservations at a very nice Italian place, where they had seats in an actual terraced al fresco area. He signaled the waiter that he would pull out her chair.

As she grinned, sitting she opened the menu. “Bobby!” she gasped. “These prices are crazy. There’s no way I feel comfortable eating here if it costs this much!”

Bobby just smiled. “Emmy, just relax. I know you work hard. I do too. Let’s just enjoy a wonderful night and see what happens.” With that, Bobby ordered her a red wine and a water for himself, once he was told that iced tea wasn’t served in that fine establishment.

And they talked. Talked about what to order, about her life at school and what she wanted to do, about the boys. When they were finished with the meal and the dessert, they talked about people walking by and the little side conversations that come up. Bobby, it turns out, was pretty clever in building up little stories about people walking by. About who was an escaped felon, who was secretly on a spy caper and even a wealthy heiress hiding out in a small-town boardwalk.

Emmy hadn’t enjoyed herself that much in ages. Bobby was not only good company; he was a gentleman. After paying for the meal, he drove her home, and with a quick peck on the cheek at the doorstep of her home, he asked for a second date, and once she accepted, he bid her a good night.

Their courtship started, they got together when they could, which wasn’t often as Bobby was up early, and Emmy was up late. They were able to sneak in a few dates here and there, and it always ended the same, a chaste kiss, a promise of another date and Bobby going home alone. The boys noted Bobby’s success and happiness with Emmy and were proud for him.

After a few months of this, Emmy had enough. Bobby showed up at her place, to take her to the county seat fair, but she grabbed him at the doorstep and dragged him inside. “Bobby O’Malley, I’m tired of you being such a nice guy. I need you to be more. Now get in here and fuck me!” And, Bobby, true to form, did his best to show Emmy a good time.

Bobby had been with girls before. Backseat fumblings, the occasional groping in a dark corner of a party. He wasn’t dumb or a virgin. But he did need some help in pleasuring a serious woman.

Emmy wasn’t a slut, especially considering how often she was subjected to come-ons and sweet talk from some of the more handsome regulars and strangers at Nell’s. But she knew what she wanted and she taught Bobby. He took her lessons to heart and did his best to please her. He wasn’t the best she’d had, but he wasn’t the worst. She taught him and his skills grew in both capability and competence. And the fact that it was Bobby made her so much happier.

This went on through the summer and well into autumn. Bobby and Emmy continued to enjoy each other’s company. Both lived their lives and their time together; as little as their lives afforded them, these hours together were that much more special. They were boyfriend and girlfriend. Anything beyond that was just words, but they were committed to each other. They grew comfortable with each other enough and experimented with things in the bedroom to keep things fresh. Bobby was a sponge to try to keep his lady friend happy. She’d never been to the Estates, but Bobby gave her a key to his place. In return Emmy gave him a key to hers, since they spent so much time there.

If there was a happier time in Bobby’s life, he couldn’t remember it. That didn’t mean that in his life that there was a lack of happiness, it’s just that the moments he had were just that, moments. Added up over time, it was just on the lesser side of things. But since Emmy, this was a prolonged happiness which was unique and exquisite in itself. Although Bobby just bumbled along with a grin on his face which the boys made fun of, they too were a more than a bit jealous of their friend’s happiness. Still, their teasing wasn’t enough to remove the internal smile which burned inside him.

Emmy was in a new semester of school and with it came a challenge. She became close with one of her instructors, and the attraction became a mutual one. There were shared sessions in his office over the course work, which spread out into meeting for coffee. She never told Bobby about this, since it was all about school, or so she told herself.

Bobby and Emmy shared a nice Christmas together, where he got her a small diamond ring. It wasn’t an engagement ring, he told her, but she was his shining heart, and he wanted her to know that.

“Bobby! How much did this cost you?”

“You don’t need to worry about that,” he said. “I love you and that’s all that needs to be said.”

The tears in Emmy’s eyes were enough for Bobby, and he felt he was more than rewarded afterwards.

Moving into spring, a new work assignment for the boys was coming up. They were moving back into Bobby’s town for a new development project. Bobby would be closer to Nell’s and Emmy.

He chose to go see her to announce that he would be able to spend more time with her. He let himself in with the key she’d given him, along with a handful of calla lilies, her favorite flower. At first, it was quiet except for a thumping, meaning Emmy had put some clothes in the washer and the load was a little uneven in the rinse cycle. He went to the back where her bedroom was, as it was about time that she should be getting ready for her shift at Nell’s. He noticed that the thumping wasn’t coming from the laundry area, past Emmy’s room, but from Emmy’s room itself.

The door was open a crack, and Bobby nudged it open further. It moved silently and revealed to him the activity that was going on in the room.

He watched Emmy, folded in half, with a skinny tall man with black curly hair hammering her. Emmy’s eyes were closed and he was taken by her beauty and her happiness as the man thrust into her. She looked so beautiful he thought. They were covered in sweat, and had obviously been at this for a while. Emmy encouraged him “Fuck me harder, I need that cock!”. The noises were squishy and wet, and the stink of sex was thick in the air.

Two ideas were competing in Bobby’s mind at that point. He was sad, of course. Sad that there was not enough love in her heart to stay true to him, despite his love and faithfulness for her. But at the same time, she had enough love in her heart for others as well as for Bobby. The other was that she looked so happy ... How could Bobby ask her for more than making her happy? Wasn’t that what he always wanted?

Bobby put the lily on floor in the door frame, and moving into the small kitchenette, left the key to her place on the table and silently let himself out of the apartment.

On the ride back to the Estates, Bobby prayed. He wasn’t much of a church-going guy since he moved into the Estates, but he was at a point where he needed some help, and since Coy and Brett weren’t immediately available, there weren’t many alternatives.

“Lord, I know I haven’t always been the best of your flock,” he said, hoping he sounded penitent enough to get some kind of response, “but I hope you understand I’ve tried to be a good man. I haven’t got all the tools to be a better host for you. I’m just asking if there’s some kind of hope for me? That there’s someone out there for me so I can go on to maybe be a better man? I pray to you that you would see fit that I can leave this world a better place than I found it.”

Tears ran down Bobby’s face, and his heart pounded in his ears.

He prayed the entire way, tears spreading across his cheeks in a salty tide. He found that there was some relief in his mental state from the praying, a rhythmic repetition of petition to the forces of life; to those who set the normal distributions of fate which had kept Bobby and his type on the far-left side of things for most of their lives. He drove a straight route to the Estates, and never noticed, but there was not a single red light on his entire way back home.

From his repetition of his own makeshift prayer, came a form of belief. And belief can make for powerful results to happen.

During all of his reflections, Bobby never blamed Emmy for her desires. He never called her to accuse or berate her. She did call him after finding the lily and his key. Her heart was broken that he had witnessed her unfaithfulness, and as she walked her instructor out, she vowed it would be the last time she ever hurt someone through her infidelity. She was never able to reach Bobby, as he had blocked her number.

For the next weeks Bobby did his work with the boys, finishing one job and then moving onto the next in their town. During these days, Bobby almost always drove the carpool, not because he had to, but because he found that he could focus on his prayers during the drive. Likewise, in his work, whether drywalling, roofing or flooring, Bobby found that time alone was filled with his silent whispering. They made excellent time to the job site each time Bobby drove, despite never exceeding the speed limit.

During this time, the foreman noted Bobby’s focus and work quality was improving to a craftsman’s caliber. Nails were driven true; joinery was even and square and he never needed reset a job after Bobby had OK’d it. The foreman barely needed to spot check the quality of his work. Bobby always worked alone, with that queer little whispering he’d taken to lately, and his projects were always done right. He was gonna have to raise that boy’s pay or some other developer was likely to poach him and have him running his own crew. When asked about it, Bobby just shrugged, saying he was focused.

“I’d like to see that focus in the rest of the crew,” the foreman noted. Per Bobby’s request, he continued to work alone and didn’t want any special recognition. But he didn’t refuse the little extra in his paycheck.

The boys knew that Emmy had done Bobby wrong, but he never opened up too much about it. He just kept to himself a bit more. He would join them on the trips to the Fred, and he would have a drink, maybe two, but he never wallowed in any kind of broken heart blues. And when the boys would try to trash Emmy or her character, Bobby put a stop to that immediately, saying it was unbecoming of them to judge her. It was a funny expression, they thought, but Bobby was their friend, and they respected him and honored his wishes, as they knew he would do for them.

Spring came, and with it came the warmer weather which the boys took advantage of. They had plans of gatherings and barbecues at the Estates, each one taking turns hosting. Coy’s turn hosting had him set up a few tables next to his Weber kettle with a pack of hotdogs and a single bag of sour cream and onion potato chips. A small wading pool with an inch of water in it had a six pack of Natty Lite in it. Bobby came by early to help set things up, but noticed the lack of supplies that the host had provided.

Coy was inside, smoking a joint when Bobby stuck his head in. “Hey Coy, I don’t think there’s gonna be enough. We’re expecting twenty or so for this, right?”

“Well, let ‘em bring their own then. I ain’t made a money. They want to party here, they can BYO.” He handed the joint to Bobby, who took a puff.

“Coy, they’re you’re guests. It ain’t right if you’re not gonna be a good host.”

“Bobby, I’m short this month. I been a little free and easy at the Fred, and I just don’t have it. If you’re so concerned, you take care of it, and I’ll make it up to you.” Bobby handed the joint back.

Bobby knew Coy had a good heart, and this would not reflect well on his friend. So, he stepped back outside.

“Coy? Can you bring out some dishes and you got any ice in your freezer?” Coy was a little puzzled and rose from his sofa and stuck his head outside the door. Bobby was arranging dozens of bags of snacks: pork rinds, potato chips, tortilla chips, tubs of potato salad and cole slaw. The pool was packed with cans of Natty and Busch. The Weber was ablaze with glowing coals, a tray with hot dogs and burgers sat next to it.

“Bobby!” Coy said once he got a breath and picked his jaw off the stoop to his doublewide, “Where’d this come from?”

“I won’t let my friends down,” he said, as if that explained where this bounty had come from. “If you’d get the plates and ice, I believe there’s enough for the folks coming by today.”

Coy shook his head, mouth hanging open. He came down to the steps, and grabbed Bobby by the shoulders. “Bobby,” he embraced his friend in a bear hug, “I don’t know how you did this or what, but thank you man!” Bobby embraced his friend for a moment before breaking the hug.

“Ice and plates? Maybe some Solo cups if you got ‘em.” Coy nodded, grinning, and went back inside.

Needless to say, the barbecue was a success. Coy knew Bobby well enough to keep it quiet about how he’d stocked the party; when he thought about it, it was more than a little embarrassing to see what Coy had done to host and then what Bobby had done to help him. But Coy kept an eye on his friend. Bobby sat in a small folding beach chair, in the sunlight, and watched his friends and neighbors enjoy themselves, a small smile on his face. Every now and then it looked like Bobby’s lips were moving, as if he were whispering something, just to himself.

Coy made sure that Bobby’s cup was full.

Coy told Brett about how Bobby had made the party the success it was, but insisted Brett keep it on the Q-T. Brett’s acknowledgement was to bring his cousin, Candy Harper by to meet Bobby. He rose from his folding chair to shake Candy’s hand before taking a seat again. Candy was a dyed blonde, with a little upturned nose and a slim figure. She was quite pretty but also seemed nice and spoke with Bobby for a bit. He was cordial and pleasant, even offering her his chair, but she declined. Bobby just wasn’t in much of a mood for chasing the ladies, as he was still smarting from what Emmy had done.

Brett inquired later. “I talked to Candy, she thinks your cute, Bobby, but she says you’re not seeming interested.”

“She’s cute, too. We chatted a bit,” was all Bobby said. “I’m happy everyone here is enjoying themselves.” Brett looked at his friend a bit closer. There was not trace of sarcasm or deceit. Bobby seemed to be exactly as he said, content to watch and have his friends and neighbors enjoy themselves. Both Brett and Coy checked in with Bobby to see if he needed anything: food, drink or companionship. Bobby was happy to talk, but was seen just sitting there, a quiet smile on his face, his lips moving just a little bit.

It was a few hours later, a little after the sun had finally given up the ghost for that day and set, Coy covered Bobby, still in his chair, his eyes closed, and that crooked smile on his thin lips, with a small blue baja blanket. The food and drink had been just enough, and the guests were starting to wander home, or to their cars, all with pleasant memories of Coy’s party.

Monday’s drive to the local worksite was filled with stories of the party, of who had hooked up with whom, and of gossip about the events afterwards and of plans for the next one. Bobby was driving.

“Bobby?” Brett asked, “You gonna host the next one?”

“Maybe,” he said, after a second. “I s’pose I could. And we’re gonna be finishing this project soon, so we could combine a celebration with an Estates get-together. But, Brett, you got that pool near yours, right?”

“That’s the McIlhenny’s pool.” They pulled into the job site parking lot. “Are we here already?”

“Well, it’s starting to get warmer. Maybe you can convince them to co-host and we can provide the grub, and they can help with the entertainment?”

“That’s a good idea Bobby,” Coy finished.

At the site, Coy pulled Bobby aside. “Listen, Bobby. I wanted to thank you again for what you did. People are still messaging me about Saturday. Rachel Wendell screwed me so hard after I thought she was gonna break my dick off.”

“That’d be a great way to go,” Bobby grinned. “You’ve had a crush on her for a while now.” Rachel was a waitress at the Fred and was the frequent target of looks, both subtle and un-, from a good percentage of the males who bent an elbow at the Fred.

Coy paused for a moment, probably reliving Rachel’s appreciation of his party-hosting skills. “I owe it to you, Bobby. So, thanks.”

“Think nothing of it. I like seeing my friends happy.”

“What about you Bobby?”

“I’m just fine, buddy.”

Three weeks later, Brett’s co-party with the McIlhenny’s went off without a hitch. Brett was much better prepared than Coy was. Bobby’s thinking was that, while indeed this was better, that it still wouldn’t quite be enough.

Coy and Brett were inside Brett’s double-wide, sitting with the Playstation, smoking a joint while waiting for the guests to arrive.

Bobby arrived and knocked, sticking his head in. “You guys want me to start taking these burgers and dogs off the grill?”

“We ain’t started cooking yet Bobby,” Brett turned from the game, offering the joint to Bobby. Coy cheered, as Brett’s distraction resulted in a kill and a win for him on the video game.

“You fucker!” Brett slapped at Coy’s controller, and walked over to Bobby, with the joint. Bobby accepted with a small salute to the host. Brett was struck with the unmistakable scent of grilled meats and charcoal.

“Bobby?” Brett walked out and there was a full grill, sizzling with meats. The small wading pool was packed with ice and cans of Natty Lite and Pabst. “Those aren’t the beers I bought...” he trailed off.

“You got a platter I can unload these dogs and burgers onto?” Bobby asked, that small sly smile on his face. Brett looked at Bobby, jaw slack. “You’re drawing flies, buddy.” Brett turned to Bobby, closed his mouth and nodded. Without another word, he went in to get the utensils and plates, just as the first guests arrived

Well, the boys had another success, this one bigger than the previous. Bobby, again, sat in his little chair, watching and dozing off with the blue blanket every now and then just a hint of a whisper crossed his lips, stopping when he was talking with those who came to him. The partnership with the McIlhenny’s was a huge success, and this led to a bonding within the different families in the Estates. There could be more events like this, with neighbors sharing responsibilities to have combined and positive events.

Candy came to Bobby later and sat with him, beside his chair as he watched the fire dancing in the stone pit. They talked about a few things, before she got into Bobby’s current role as the Watcher of the party.

“Bobby, both Brett and Coy said how you’re helping them with these parties, but you’re not up partying with them. Don’t you enjoy yourself?”

“Of course, I do! Why would you ask that?”

“Well, you sit here and just watch everyone else have a good time.” He didn’t really have much of a response, other than his sly smile. “You really think that, don’t you? You’re really about just having fun through your friends.”

“That sounds about right,” he grinned. Candy felt a warm flush through her.

“Brett told me about you that you don’t have a mean bone in your body. That you’re one of the nicest guys anywhere.”

He smiled. “Brett’s a kind friend to say that.”

“What would it take to get you outta that chair and take a walk with a lady?”

“I’d never let my friends down, so I guess it’d just take an invitation.”

“Am I your friend, Bobby?”

“‘Course you are, Candy.” She stood and extended her hand to him and he rose from the chair.

She led him back to his place. He welcomed her inside. Unlike Brett’s and Coy’s places, Bobby’s unit was neat and tidy. Not cluttered. Decorated with some simple photos of his family and friends. A small set of furniture. Candy knew that Bobby had been earning money but she didn’t see him spending it on flashy electronics or furniture.

“Bobby, it’s not wrong to want things for yourself, is it?” She looked into his blue eyes and thought that up close, he was actually quite handsome.

“‘Course not, Candy.” She leaned in close.

“I’m glad you think so.”

Candy’s lips were soft and plush against him, and made Bobby tingle with alertness. He hadn’t been with a woman since Emmy and was suddenly very aware of that fact. Her lips and tongue brought him to full attention, and within a few moments, Candy lightly grazed the crotch of his shorts. He jumped at the touch.

“Oh good, you do want something after all” she teased. He made a sheepish grin and she led him to the bedroom at the back.

Candy didn’t have high expectations for Bobby, but due to his time with Emmy and her lessons, she was pleasantly surprised. Getting Bobby on his back on the bed, she started kissing him before working her way down. She peeled off his clothes and brought him out. He was of an average size, but his excitement made him very hard and eager, squirming under her touch. She was able to bring him to a quick orgasm, which she swallowed, but continued, keeping him hard. “I hope that there’s more left for me,” she said.

He returned the favor, and, to her surprise, was more than adequate with his own tongue. Bobby used lips, teeth, tongue and fingers in and on her to bring Candy to several quick orgasms. She was sweating and writhing, cursing as he brought her to the edge, pausing to grin at her, before bringing her back several times before finally pushing her over.

“Oh, Bobby, that’s wonderful,” she said, once she finally pulled him up next to her, to get catch her breath. “You’ve done that once or twice.”

“I just want my friends to have a good time,” he grinned.

She laughed and slapped at him. “I see,” she said, reaching between his legs to find that he had recovered nicely himself. She rolled on top of him, and guided him inside her. “Well, your friend wants you to have a good time too,” she said, kissing him while she slid back and forth on him.

When they returned to the party later, Bobby was back in his seat, watching, and Candy was next to him for a while, wondering if she had underestimated him. It was distinctly possible. With a small kiss, she left him to mingle, while Bobby just smiled his smile and let her go, happy and content as he’d been in ages.

Bobby was under no illusions. He knew of Candy from Brett and knew she was a free spirit. Unlike his time with Emmy, he knew that she wasn’t looking for a relationship. But still, he was a man, and he had gone without any companionship for a while. It felt good. He sat in his chair, remembering her touch and felt a warmth as if the sun were still shining on him.

Later on, Coy covered Bobby, as he slept in his fireside chair, with his baja blanket.

Monday’s ride to work was one of the last as the project was finishing and only touch up work would be done. They unloaded their work gear from the trunk and headed their separate ways.

Bobby started to move but Coy pulled him aside.

“How did you do that, Bobby?”

“Huh?” Bobby was examining his hands while Coy spoke, shaking them occasionally.

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