The Greatest Gift

Published on Jan 4, 2023

Gay

The Greatest Gift

Notice:

The contents of this story is purely fictional. The content matter of this story concerns love and may include sex between consenting males teenagers. If this is not what you like reading or it is illegal for you to read this material because of age or laws go somewhere else. This story is copyrighted by it's owner and may not be copied or published elsewhere without the owners permission.

Author's note:

Hey! In response to the emails I received here is chapter 3. Thanks again to David my editor.

Hope you had a great new years. Mine was quiet...but I did get a call from Matt...he is so awesome. I wrote this to him two months ago when he ask what was the best thing that ever happened in my life

...the best thing that happened in my life was being born because if I hadn't been born when I was born I might never have had the adventurers I had and met the people that I met that cause me to write stories that attracted your attention and that cause us to find each other. If all that didn't happen then I'd have never met you and meeting you is something I treasure with all my heart & soul.

Sam Lakes

SamLakes dot writer at Gmail dot com

The Greatest Gift

by Sam Lakes

Copyright © 2008 All Rights Reserved

Chapter 3

Before I knew it, more than a year had passed. In all that time, I had not met Ethan’s brother even though both Dorothy and Carol said they had. They told me that Ethan’s brother was nothing like Ethan, who they adored, but little else. Well, everyone adored Ethan – including me.

When you get to my age, you want to forget birthdays. I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to do my laundry. Since it was 2:00 AM, I went quietly down to the laundry room I could hear one of the dryers going. That was surprising, but not as surprising as the shock I got when I entered the laundry room and saw Ethan taking a bath in the laundry sink.

“Ethan, what are you doing here?”

“I…I…I’m taking a b…b…bath,” he stuttered.

“Why?”

“Well, I…I was doing Ms. Murphy’s laundry and I…I need a bath.”

The dryer stopped.

“Can you hand me that towel, please?” he asked.

I grabbed the towel and tossed it to him.

“Could you turn around so I can get out,” he asked.

I turned around.

After a minute, he said he was dressed enough that I could turn around if I wanted to. I did, and I couldn’t help but stare. He was shirtless, and at nearly fourteen, he no longer looked cute. He looked handsome.

“Why are you doing Ms. Murphy’s laundry?” I asked.

“Because she asked me to do it and because I like doing things for her and she pays me,” he replied.

“Why at two in the morning?” I said I said. I was puzzled and upset, and starting to get angry. I’m sure he could tell that from my voice.

“Because I was busy until one and I promised I would have it done by morning,”

He started emptying the dryer and folding the clothes. The last three items he took out were a pair of jeans, a t-shirt and a pair of boxers. He looked at me and spoke softly, “She said I could wash my clothes, too.”

“Okay, let’s take them upstairs,” I said firmly.

Ethan set the basket of clothes down outside Ms. Murphy’s apartment.

“I’m walking you home,” I said.

“You don’t have to,” he said.

“Yes, I do. I’m not having you wandering about on the streets at 2:30 in the morning,” I said raising my voice just a bit.

“I…I live here,” he said looking at the floor.

“You what!” I said a bit too loudly.

“I live here in the basement,” he said.

“In my basement! You and your brother are living in my basement!” My voice was getting louder.

“I don’t have a brother! I lied!!” Ethan said, and began to cry.

“You lied to me! All this time you lied to me!” I shouted. I was hurt and upset that he had found it necessary to lie to me.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to. I wanted to tell you the truth but I was scared!” he cried.

“What have I ever done to make to afraid to tell me the truth?” I asked.

Dorothy’s door opened. She stepped into the hallway wearing a housecoat, curlers, and a frown. “What are you two yelling about? Ethan? Where is your shirt?”

“He’s been lying to us! All this time he’s been lying to us! He doesn’t have a brother,” I complained loudly.

Ethan was sobbing. He turned to leave. “Ethan Lewis don’t you run away from me,” Dorothy said.

“He hates me,” Ethan managed to blurb out between his sobs, “I’ll have to leave.”

“You’ll do no such thing,” Dorothy said. She turned to me and added, “You stay there. I’m not finished with you.”

Dorothy took Ethan down to Carol’s apartment. I guess our shouting and Ethan’s crying woke her up, too. As soon as they got to the landing, I heard Carol say gently, “Ethan, honey, sweetheart don’t cry. It’s going to be all right.”

“No, it’s not. D…D…Dan h…h…hates m…m…me,” Ethan cried.

Meanwhile Dorothy had come back up. “Follow me!” she ordered.

I followed her to the laundry room. “How long have you known that he’s been living here?” I asked.

“Since Christmas Eve last year,” she said, and pointed to the storage room door.

“What’s in there?” she asked.

“What do you mean, what’s in there? A bunch of junk. What’s that got—”

“Really? Have a look.”

I opened the door and turned on the light. I was surprised to see a room that was clean and organized. There was no junk. There was a white door on the left. On the door was a sign that read “Ethan’s Room.” It was in plain sight, but I had never opened the door.

“I discovered his room by accident,” Dorothy said. “He used to have a wall of junk in front of the door, but it was stacked neat and nice. The place was clean like it is now. I explored a bit farther and spotted his room. I went in. Go on, go into his room,” she ordered.

I opened the door. The room was clean and tidy. The floor was carpeted. There was a small bed and night table with a lamp. The lamp was on. Next to the lamp was a picture frame. The picture was of Ethan and two adults who must have been his parents, with Disney World in the background.

“Open the drawer in the night stand,” Dorothy said. I did. I saw a composition book. “Take the book out and read it. It’s Ethan’s journal. He won’t care if you read it.”

I opened the book and read.

“…I went to a quick shop down the street, Mr. Olsen gave me a roast beef sandwich. I think he’s the most wonderful person it the world!!!!  I love him…"

I skipped a few pages “…I’ve started going to the library. Mr Olsen says education is very important. He said all his kids went to school and they are very successful. I want to be successful so that Mr. Olsen will be proud of me…

“…you go to school to learn things. I am learning a lot everyday by going to the library… the librarian is a wonderful person – she helps me find the right books and sometimes explains things to me that I don’t understand…

“…I told Dan – Mr. Olsen he said I could call him Dan...

“…I love going to the library almost more than anything but the one thing I enjoy more is telling Dan all the things I’ve learnt…”

 I put the book back in the drawer.

“Do you know why I call him ‘sunshine’? It’s because every time when he comes into the shop, your face lights up. And when he leaves you are back to being a gloomy old goat. He loves you and God knows, you love him, too. You send him away and not only will you rip out his heart but your own,” Dorothy said.

She was right. I truly love that boy. He’s like the grandson I’ll never have. “I love him. I’m such a jerk,” I said more to myself than to Dorothy.

“You’ll get no argument from me on that. Now, get up upstairs and tell him you’re sorry,” she said softly.

Ethan was sitting on a couch next to Carol. She had her arm around him. Tears were still trickling down his cheeks. I sat down on his other side.

“I’m so sorry, Ethan. I’m sorry I yelled at you and got angry. I’ll never do it again. Ethan I don’t want you to leave – ever. I love you. Please forgive me.”

Ethan looked at me and we embraced, “I love you Dan. You’re my best friend ever.”

The next day I closed the store and gave everyone the day off. I took Ethan to lunch and then to the art museum, because that was where he wanted to go.

I noticed he was looking at a rather cute boy a year or so older than he was. Having had three gay sons and one gay daughter, I had a good idea what that look meant.”

“He’s cute isn’t he?” I said.

Ethan turned the prettiest shade of pink.

“I was looking at the statue behind him,” he said.

About a minute later he said in a low and slightly dreamy voice, “Yeah, he was cute.”

He blushed again. I couldn’t help chuckling to myself.

Comments welcomed - So what do you think? Love to get feedback from you.

sam lakes

Next: Chapter 4


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