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I wasn't sure anyone had accused Livy of being sweet before. I wanted to correct their take on our relationship but wasn't sure which way to go. I knew I'd have to come out to them sooner or later. It made me uncomfortable to let them go on assuming things about me that weren't true. But I wasn't sure this was the right time with Livy here. It suddenly occurred to me that Dad would probably be present at any future conversations with the Perrys so this might be my last chance to have a reasonable discussion with them. Livy returned with the drinks and I decided to go for it.

"Before you go any further and start planning our wedding, I think there's something you should know, folks."

I could see by the confused look on her face that Livy was wondering what had gone on in the two minutes she'd been in the house.

"Livy's not my girlfriend, just a friend. You see Lamalinks, I'm gay. Mom knew about it for a number of years but Dad found out just before I left home." Neither of them showed much of any kind of reaction. "You know what I'm talking about?"

"Of course we do," Uncle Frank growled. "We may be farmers but we're not dumb hicks."

"I know you're not but you didn't seem to be reacting."

"It's just a little bit of a surprise, dear. We weren't expecting that." Aunt Mary didn't actually act very surprised. Maybe Mom had said something to her long ago.

"I don't mean to force the issue on you but I thought you should know because you were always important in my life and we're going to be seeing a lot of each other now. Are you okay with it?"

"Well, I don't really understand it but I've seen male animals go after one another so I know it happens in nature." Uncle Frank seemed less at ease than Aunt Mary but still not antagonistic.

"Besides, our niece Sandra is gay. You remember her from high school don't you? Petite thing, long blonde hair?" I knew who Aunt Mary was talking about and when I thought about it for a minute I wasn't surprised to hear Sandy was gay. She'd been as shy and withdrawn as me in school.

"So this is what's behind the split with your father?" Uncle Frank asked doubtfully.

"Part of it. We never got along and I think this was just the final straw."

"Yeah, I'd guess it must be more than that. Sam has always been a live-and-let-live kind of guy."

I'm sure my astonishment showed.

"We are talking about the same Sam Willson, right?"

"Oh, I know what you mean, Silas. Sam's always had strong opinions and makes sure everyone knows them, but once he gets it out of his system he really doesn't care how others live, as long as they don't bother him."

"I suppose you could look at it that way but when it came to me he never seemed to 'get it out of his system' as you put it."

"That's because you matter more to him than anyone else. He's always wanted the best for you."

I couldn't agree with that statement but I really didn't want to get  into it. I'd come out to a better reception than I'd hoped, so that was enough for me.

"Well, we've got to get back to the cows." Frank turned to Livy. "Are you staying out here for a while?"

"No, I've got to get back to the city. Silas is taking me home this evening."

"Well, we hope you come back again soon, girlfriend or not."

As they were leaving I heard Livy ask Aunt Mary, "So, this niece of yours, is she single?"
Livy and I cleaned up and then it was time to head back into the city. On the way she returned to our conversation from the night before.

"I think this is going to be good for you, Silas. While you always fit into the city well you've also seemed a bit like an observer there, not really a part of it. Out here you seem to be connected with what's around you."

"I don't know what you mean about being an observer. I take part in life in the city. I eat out, go to clubs, see shows and concerts."

"Yeah, but it's like you're just passing through, killing time until you decide what you really want."

"Back to that 'what do you want to be when you grow up?' question again. You're like a broken record."

"I don't mean to be. Tell you what, I won't bring it up again as long as you promise to use your time in the country to think about it."

"Not that it will stop you, but I promise."

We stopped by my apartment so I could pick up my mail and then give the key to the mailbox to Livy. As soon as I could get on the Internet I'd give the post office a temporary forwarding order but until then Livy had offered to do the forwarding.

I managed to find a place to park the truck on the street not far from my client's loft in Tribeca. I stepped off the elevator and knocked on his door. It was opened almost immediately by a wiry Italian in his late thirties.

"Right on time for your appointment, sir. What can I do for you Lamalinks today?"

"Just a shave, Mario."

"You know where the chair is." He stood aside and with a sweeping gesture of his arm he both invited me in and pointed to the old-fashioned barber's chair in one corner of the large room. "Make yourself comfortable."

While I took off my clothes he covered the chair with a plastic sheet and then began to sharpen a straight razor on the leather strop. I got into the chair and he adjusted it, lowering the back until I was lying flat. He pumped the lever which raised the chair up to a height where he could comfortably work on me. He then picked up a mug and started swirling a brush in it, working up a lather that he then spread on my chest. I didn't have more than a few hairs on my chest but he got them all. He then moved on to my arms, gently scraping away the golden fuzz on them.

He worked his way down my left leg and up my right, leaving not a hair behind. As he finished each section of my body he used a wet towel, then a dry one, to remove any remaining traces of soap. Then it was time for the piece-de-resistance, my faint treasure trail and the family jewels. This part always made me a little nervous. While I'd been through this several times with Mario and trusted him, having a sharp blade working over my favorite part of my anatomy was a bit disconcerting. I usually distracted myself by thinking of other things. Mario, not his real name, was an investment banker who worked for a hedge fund. He probably made more in a week than I'd made in my whole life. But his father and grandfather, both really named Mario, had been barbers and my client had grown up in their shop where he'd learned the trade and developed a fetish.

I smiled as I thought about a comment of Livy's the day before. When she was taking the nude photos she'd expressed surprise that I had neatly trimmed pubes. She said she thought it was the style for gay men to shave them. I'd been tempted to tell her of this upcoming date but had kept quiet. Once I gave her details of one date she'd want to know about them all.

By the time Mario had scraped away every last hair from my pubes I had a raging hardon. If everyone found being shaved as erotic an experience as I did it was no wonder it was so popular. Mario had me roll over, not an easy thing to do in a barber's chair, and he defoliated my dorsal side, ending by spreading my ass cheeks and swiping away the few stray hairs around my hole.

My dick was still as hard as steel when I turned back over. Mario raised the back of the seat somewhat so I could sit comfortably, reclining only slightly, and then dove down on my rigid penis. He probably hadn't learned his deep-throat technique in the barber shop but he was every bit as adept at it as he was the shaving. He was so good at swallowing my entire seven inches and then sucking the life out of me every time he pulled off that I could have come in no time, but I knew he enjoyed sucking so I held off as long as I could before exploding, shooting my load down his throat.

After he'd drained every last drop from me he stood up, licking his lips. He held a hand mirror in several positions so I could see my body from every angle.

"Everything to your satisfaction, sir?"

"Perfect as always, Mario."

As I drove home that night I thought of one thing I could thank Dad for. I would not be able to make it to what was always my sloppiest date. Usually the day after my grooming appointment with Mario, while my body was still smooth, I had a date with a food freak who liked to use my body as a plate. He'd spread all kinds of gooey food all over me and then eat it off. Karen would have to find another smooth escort for that job this time.

It was a little after nine when I got to the hospital the next morning. I stopped at the nurses' station and was relieved to find out Dr. Patel was on the floor but hadn't been to see Dad yet. I wasn't looking forward to spending time alone in the room with Dad but I   wanted to be there when the doctor went over his discharge orders. Since the doctor would apparently be there in just a few moments I figured it was safe to go to Dad's room.

This time he wasn't in bed. He was sitting in a chair, already dressed, waiting to be released, staring at the floor in front of him. When he heard me he looked up and his face registered disappointment. I tried not to take it personally. I knew he was hoping it would be Dr. Patel coming in to discharge him. He looked back down at the floor without saying a word. I walked over to the window and looked out. Dressed, he didn't look as bad as he had the other day but his appearance still shocked me. After a minute I couldn't take the hostile silence.

"Look, Dad, there's no reason why we can't get along, even if neither of us likes the situation. After all, even the US and Soviet Union spoke to each other during the Cold War. Can we call a truce, or dĐštente, or something?"

"I don't have a problem with that. Just don't think we're gonna be friends. Not unless you've changed a lot."

"Changed? What do you mean by that? Just tell me what you want out of me and I'll try to do it."

He slowly shook his head.

"Nope, same old Silas."

Dr. Patel chose that moment to enter the room so I couldn't ask Dad what he meant by that. It was just as well. I was afraid if we went any deeper into his opinion of me it would only make things worse.

The doctor first gave us each a list of medications he was prescribing and explained what they were and how to take them. There were two drugs to control blood pressure, one for cholesterol, and one for the heart failure. There was another to take in case he experienced angina and he also wanted Dad to take a baby aspirin every day. I couldn't remember ever seeing Dad take as much as a vitamin so I wasn't sure how well he'd deal with the pill regimen. He grumbled but listened without talking back. He saved that for when Dr. Patel handed us each a sheet of paper with dietary restrictions and suggestions on it.

"No way I can eat like this. No salt, no fat, no beef, no bacon, no dairy, no eggs, nothing fried. And who's gonna cook all this fish, chicken and vegetables?"

"Don't worry, Dad, I'll take care of the food. We'll work out something you'll like Lamalinks."

"Here's some information on our visiting nurse service." He gave us more paper. "They're expecting you to call this afternoon to set up an intake interview."

"I don't need any nurse. Once I get out of here and get home I'll be just fine."

"We have to monitor your medications and vital signs for a while, Mr. Willson. Your heart has sustained serious damage and all of this medication is new to you. We have to make sure you take it right and that it's doing the job."