Thursday, December 28, 2023

Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, a Repost blog post #634

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Well, our nameless hero got his petty revenge on Graciela last week. Didn’t accomplish much except bring some satisfaction into his dim life, and that was worth something, right?

 Swore I wasn’t going to do this again, but the week got away from me—life intruding, you know—and I’m going to repost a story again. This one was originally published on May 8, 2018, and it’s one I forgot about and rediscovered. I like it. I hope you do too.




I left the chapel following Charles Farrelson’s memorial service somewhat spiritually fractured. Chuck, thirty years my senior, had been both father figure and lover for the past five years. For at least 250 of the last 260 Wednesdays, he’d filled my afternoons with good food, sharp wit, and loving caresses. Yet the sorrow tugging at my heartstrings felt selfish. It seemed more centered on what was taken from me, rather than his life being snatched from him.

Feeling the need for nourishment, sustenance… something. I walked past the cars in the parking lot and struck out for the Famous Four Flavors ice cream shop across the street. A tall hunky guy I’d noticed at the service entered before me. I’d picked up on him not only because he was so handsome but also because he was Chuck’s son Drake.

Restraining the impulse to introduce myself, I fell in line behind him wondering how he’d feel about meeting his father’s gay lover. Once he collected his chocolate shake, I ordered a strawberry. Keeping my eyes straight ahead, I walked toward a nearby table until a deep baritone brought me to a halt.

“I noticed you at the service.” Drake indicated a chair. “Join me?”

When I was settled, he offered a handshake. “Hi, I’m Drake Barstow.”

I grasped his hand and frowned. “N-not Drake Farrelson?”

His eyebrows reached for his dark hairline. “No. Why would you think that?”

“I’ve seen you before. Last December, I saw you and Chuck leaving Dillards. I asked him later, and he said you were his son.”

His astonished look morphed into glee. “That old dog! Now let me guess. You’re not Carl, Chuck’s nephew. You see, I saw you with him once, too, at the University bookstore.

“I’m Carl, all right. But I’m not his nephew. I was… uh, a friend.”

“Yeah, a friend. What was your day?”

“My day?”

“When did you meet him? Was it on a special day of the week?”

“Well… yes. We got together for lunch or something every Wednesday.”

“Yeah, or something. I was Friday. That’s the day we got together for… something.”

“You… you mean you and Chuck…?”

“That’s exactly what I mean.”

“For how long?”

“Ten years. I was eighteen when I met him. Got together with him every Friday after that except when one of us was out of town. And that wasn’t often, I can tell you.” He arched an eyebrow at me. “How long for you?”

“Five years. I was eighteen, too.”

“Apparently, that’s the age when we first grab his attention. But he was loyal, in his own way, I guess you could say. Outside of Chuck, what do you do?”

I felt my cheeks burn. “No one. It was just—”

“Sorry, that’s not what I meant. What do you do to keep a roof over your head?”

“I’m a commercial artist. You?”

“Photographer. And I’ll bet you’ve got as many intimate drawings as I have photographs.”

My cheeks really flamed then. “Uh, a few.”

“Yeah, I’ve got some scorchers, too.” His attention strayed from me to the front door of the shop. “Hang on, I think we’re about to meet Monday.”

I looked where his gaze was centered and saw the other individual who’d caught my attention at the memorial service. Impossibly young and blond, the kid was really cute.

“What makes you think—”

“Well, he’s not Chuck’s son or nephew, and probably not even a cousin. But he was at the service. What are the odds?”

We both watched the kid’s coltish, self-conscious carriage as he ordered a coke and then turned to glance uncertainly over the room. His eyes stopped on us before moving on.

“Have a chair,” Drake said.

With only a moment’s hesitation, the kid sat.

We identified ourselves and watched the newcomer’s reaction. His blue eyes skittered back and forth between us as he sank into a chair at the table.

“Confused?” Drake asked.


“Well, I’m not Chuck’s son, and Carl’s not his nephew. Now let me make a couple of guesses about you. You’re what? About twenty or twenty-one?”


“Your name’s Jake and you met Carl about two years ago.

The kid seemed flustered. “That’s right. How did you know?”

“I saw you with Carl once at the Kimo. He told me your name later.”

“You saw us?”

 “Bound to happen sooner or later,” I said. “Albuquerque’s not that big of a town.”

Jake looked as if he was about to bolt.

“It’s okay,” Drake said. You’re among brethren.”

“What do you mean?”

“What I mean is I’m Friday, Carl’s Wednesday, and I’ll bet you’re Monday.”

“I don’t know what you—”

“Come on, don’t play coy. You met Chuck for lunch and playtime every Monday, right?”

“I met him, yes, but—”

“Butt being the operative word. You got it on with him. We all did.

Now it was Jake’s turn to send his eyebrows northward. “You mean…?”

“Yep. That’s exactly what I mean. Old Chuck got his jollies every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday with us. Who knows, we might be why his heart failed. Hell, he wasn’t even fifty-five yet.”

That comment sat on the table for a moment while we all digested it. Then Drake took charge again.

“Now what we have to do is figure out the situation. You know” he turned pedantic. “Let not what Chuck sowed be put asunder!”

Jake and I blinked back at him for a moment before smiling.

“How do you know we’re compatible?” I asked.

Drake winked. “I’d bet on it.”

After raising a silent toast to our dear, departed Chuck, we put our heads together and started working out our Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.


That story didn’t come out of any experience of mine. Reading it makes me wonder how my mind works, but I’ll not delve into that too deeply. At the turn of the year, I’ll try to do something original… although I am taking on a new project that’s going to demand a lot of my time. Hopefully, it’s productive in the end.

Until next week, stay safe and strong.

Now my mantra. keep on reading and keep on writing. You have something to say... so say it!

Please check out my seven BJ Vinson murder mystery books published by Dreamspinner Press.

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X: @dontravis3

See you next Thursday.


New Posts every Thursday morning at 6:00 a.m., US Mountain time.

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