Hazel and Dan in the Hazy Days of Fall Bk. 08

Mandy Muse

Everyone is 18+ in the this story of love and lust

Hazel and Dan in the Hazy days of Fall. Book 08

Sunday came and went. Hazel was down in the dumps did not want to kiss or dance. I remember Prissy’s kind, Priest. He was the only face I knew in court; I never understood why he was there. He was at a small church in the East end. Monday, we had no classes we needed, I asked Hazel. “Was your relationship with a church or your god?”

You started to walk away you stopped and say. “Damn, stop asking hard questions, baby, but what if it’s with my god?”

I say. “I’ll take us to a tiny church in the east end whose Priest married my cousin. We talked long about my Dad’s issues; I think he could help, baby.”

Hazel told me. “You have been right too often. So let’s go, baby. Do you mind me going in my jeans and a blouse?”

I answer you. “Hon, my Pops said you look good in a flour sack. But, of course, you don’t need that to look wonderful, Sexy.”

We got there; I see the fifteen stairs to get into the Church; I remember carrying my cousin up those stairs, a ramp Ellen would need a ramp. The coolness of the Church’s inside and the stained glass colors was charming. I felt Hazel exhale, standing next to me, taking in a deep breath as my eyes wandered, looking at the places in my photos.

An older man with salt and pepper hair is cleaning around the altar, and he nods at us but keeps working. Hazel walks up to the front, and the ceiling arch looks exactly like in the wedding photo. The guy cleaning is Father Jude; he was the guy who married my cousin.

He says. “Services were at and gave the times.” Then he stopped, looked at me, and says. “I know you, son, you’re a photographer who beat up… Well, that’s not important now. But what is?”

His hands never stopped moving, polishing the candle stick holders. There are a dozen or more needed polish. I grab a cloth my hands start polishing. We’re both working with our hands; it’s not stopping us from talking. “Father, this is my fiance, but her Church was Lawndell; we were due to get married there before the end of June. It broke Hazel’s trust; Prissy told me that if my troubles at home got too bad, see you. So I thought maybe you and Hazy could talk.”

“Hazy?” He asked.

“She got sick; her name is Hazel Ellen Campbell, and she had a high fever, and she told her Dad her new name was Hazy. It’s a nickname.” I laughed out loud, Hazel, too; it echoed in the Church. It sounded beautiful, like children laughing.

Hazel smiled and started singing. “We skipped the light fandango and Turned cartwheels ‘cross the floor I was feeling kinda seasick, But the crowd called out for more.” Procol Harum, a whiter shade of pale, never sounded so pure.

Father Jude says. “Wonderful words, but if you read closely, it sounds like an epic drunken one-night stand. Now young lady, what is it Dan can not do but I can?”

As you two walk off to talk, you walk around the Church. He showed you the changes made in 1906, the damage to the building by a fire in 1938, and where they rebuilt one of the stained glass windows.

I polish the candle sticks, and there is a cross, and I walk over to it. Looking at the back of the cast is a fingerprint molded in gold. I touch it, and I felt many hands polishing this for almost a hundred years. The Father comes over, crosses himself, and hands me the cross to polish. “It was made by a man who worked with his hands like you. It’s not hard to see your callouses; it shows your connection to your art.” I polish it and hand it back to the Father.

“You not afraid of work, are you? So much work needed to be done here; I had a perfect plan. First, we will do couples talk to see if you are ready for marriage.” The Father says.

Hazel says. “Ask them now; ask them tomorrow. The answer is the same, Father, Dan is my perfect match, and I hurt anyone who thinks otherwise.”

“Good to know. Well, I was going to offer the Church for the wedding, and we can handle the reception here. We have a few weddings a day but only two on the eighteenth of June. If one of the couples changes their time, we can do this. The two weddings do not have a reception here it can work. I was hoping to get some work out of your young man.” The Father says, laughing.

I say. “I can help Father; my back and hands are yours, but, Father, you’re short on your roof fund I see; I think we can help Father. I’m holding out for one tough trade. I want my gay grandfather to be baptized here, and I pay sixty-five thousand for your roof a personal check, alright, Father? Oh shit, I mean, sorry, OK with you, baby?”

Hazel says. “He does surprise me every day, Father. Oh, your Pops will float to heaven; he be so happy.”

I say. “I know it’s a bribe, but Hun pops won’t be here much longer; he’s ninety, Father. He read the bible to me twice a week. Not one Church was willing to baptize him it.” I had said softly, as I knew it still made me mad.

Father Jude says. “I make a few calls, Kültür Escort it will… But, no damn it, bring him in with your family next Sunday; I can ask forgiveness after, Right?”

Father Jude sings. “And so it was that later, As the miller told his tale that her face, at first just ghostly, Turned a whiter shade of pale.” Procol Harum is a whiter shade of pale. Sung by Father Jude.

We talked about ourselves and our morals. We were there for an hour; We polished everything that needed it. Then, heading home, we both left happy.

On the way home, I hear a soft voice from your head buried in my chest. “I’m happy, baby; you again fixed what’s wrong. Take us home, baby. I feel the need for my man’s touch. Lucky as fuck, baby, lucky as fuck.”

Hazel rubbed my chest as her hand drifted south. Indeed lucky was an understatement.

We got home, and Hazel called her Mom and told her. “We are invited to a tiny church; it was the one in Dan’s photos, we met the Father, and Dan said he would fix their roof if you baptized Dan’s gay grandfather and Aunt. So we’re going Sunday, but Dan and I go to couples counseling on Wednesday, and we have a wedding planning meeting with the church ladies who do the catering; want to come with Mom?”

Hazel looks at me and starts taking your things off as you talk to your Mom. You sound so sweet and innocent when naked, and you watch me as I undress. Your fingers open your lips, and as you pinch your nipple, a tiny moan comes out, and you say. “Sorry, Mom, Dan’s trying to tell me something. I’ll talk to you later, Mom; love you.”

You hang up, dial one number setting the phone aside without hanging up, no calls to bother us because it’s us, time, baby.

Hazel kisses me as your hand teases me. I’m throbbing hard watching your show. I smell you like the day in my shop; my fingers touch only your outer lips as I squeeze them, making them rub together oh so nicely as you scream, wetting my hand. I can’t wait for another second spinning you around, bending you over the bed, your ass in the air like you do care as I slide inside you wetting us as I’m sawing in and out, trying to get your scream to break the sound barrier.

Screaming out, your coming was one way to get me to nut, but you pushed me off you before I could. Then, as you push me to the floor, you boast with a victory smile that you’re on top. Now it’s my turn to scream, but you learn tricks that work on me; your freezing and gripping me extra hard stops me, but even a good deed won’t last forever.

But I know two Secrets about you one pinch one of your nipples till you scream, two a wet finger dripping in your juices, I slip it in your ass. Well, look who’s dancing now; crap, we are. My toes curled a cramp set in, but too late, my come exploded. So much of my cum was leaking out of you as we pounded each other; two screams joined as one.

After trying to breathe on the floor and getting up, Hazel says. “We need to start dinner soon, baby. I’m kind of not feeling it about cooking. How about an Egg sandwich from Someburgers with some fries?” Whoever came up with a fried egg on top of a burger was OK in my book, but Hazel sometimes gets the egg half the time without the meat part of the burger.

I stopped downstairs and asked Ellen if she would go with Hazel to order flowers and table treats. I had unique plans to work on things at my shop teachers’ shop. Doors and add-on bars for both bathrooms at the Church and an electric device to open up the door for wheelchairs. A ramp was twice as easy to do the back door as the height difference, but a concrete ramp was drawn and passed to an Architect to pass the building codes for both the front and back. I went and started the projects going home for dinner, and Mr. Reynolds called a few of the better students over, and they were working on building the doors as I left to eat.

I returned to Mr. Johnson’s shop with Hazel, and you called Mae as I built out the handrails. The girls and Mrs. Johnson watched the catcalls were milder but still fun. I finished the rails, and Mr. Johnson has a few guys, the best in their class are finishing the wood doors to my sketch. I found a box of smoked stained glass at the Church to inlay in the door. Father Jude said to go for it; they would be thrown away.

We cleaned the stained glass and then inlaid the glass. Hazel looked and says. “Frost it up, baby; too easy to see though, so I added hair spray sealing the glasses with a top piece of safety glass front and back. Two beautiful light weigh wood restroom doors, one wide enough for a wheelchair. Hazel hands me a soldiering iron. “Sign it, my love.” I sign it, and she goes to Mr. Johnson, who also signs it.

He says. “Damn, Honey, I never signed my work before. It felt good, Hon; you want to see these at the Church?”

I hear three yes from the peanut crowd as Hazel gets the others to sign.

Getting to the Church mid-day on Friday, I paid the kids from shop class for their time. I started Kültür Escort Bayan telling folks how to read the blueprints, for there were teams, one on the ramp and two on the bathrooms. I paid the workers at the end of the day. A day to dry, then Sunday, my Pops gets his dream.

The rest of the week went by fast Saturday rolled around we went to a go-cart track with the wedding party for fun.

Aunt Ellen says. “Damn, looks like fun. I’ve not driven in twenty years.”

I went to look in my car for things I could use. I found a few hose clamps, coat hangers, and duck tape in my trunk with my Swiss Army Knife tool in a few minutes. We had a hand-operated go-cart. We had to push her back to the pits; she was the only one to run out of gas twice.

The track’s owner came out, saw the taped hook-up, and started crying; he walked away. Hazel saw she ran after him and asked him what was wrong. He called his wife, and they brought their son over, also in a wheelchair.

Ellen asked me. “Get me out of the cart so this baby can drive for the first time.”

I sat with Ellen in my lap and says. “I not sure what’s cooler, the smiles of youth and freedom or watching his folks.”

Ellen told me. “Both are even more so because you caused it, young man.”

We watched twenty smiles to the mile on that boy’s face and twice that for his folks. Hazel went and talked to them and told them I could make a few kits together so you could make a few go-carts. So they gave us memberships for life.

I asked Ellen. “If you drove again, how would you get in and out of your chair?”

Ellen held my face in her hands, and she kissed me. “You, dear sweet man, will give me this too?”

With that, she began crying then she laughed. Hazel looked at us. She smiled as if she knew what was going on; man, knowing your love knows your body and soul was a good high.

On the ride home, Hazel asked her Dad. “If John was ready for Ellen to become mobile again?” Bob and Jean both turned to look at their daughter, their baby both with questions on their faces.

Then she explained. “If Ellen could work a go-cart, why not a car? Dan thought aloud while watching him sketch on a napkin as we ate hot dogs. I understood little, but Dan stopped and told me what he thought we needed to make this work. He was patent with me, explaining what was important. It was so easy to understand. Mom, Dad, I saw us forty years from now, Dan helping someone; it started with a sketch on a napkin. Mom, I like to hear when you knew you loved Dad; you never answered me that day.”

Jean says. “Every day since his first kiss, he kisses me every day; if we fight, we call a truce, then we have ten minutes to argue as the other person. Never go to bed mad; it came up once or twice with Dan, but he is so worth it.” On the ride home my mind wandered not hearing the talk about flowers or what ever it was.

———-

I met Joey, the airbrush artist doing community service two years ago. We clicked, and he told me this shop teacher at Austin High school had turned him on to painting cars for money rather than boosting the wheels; that was what he was caught for.

He said. “You get a chance to help him; he is as solid as you are.”

———-

We are running on time but that was not what I told Hazel. I set the alarm for thirty minutes early. I let Hazy think we were late, so she dressed faster. I was done five minutes out of the shower. So we tap the bong, put on our perfumes, and grab a couple of candies. Then, we ran down the stairs, snacked, and had our second coffee with the folks.

My pops and Aunts don’t know, but they stop by first, and we take two cars. Getting to the Church twenty minutes before the service On time, Father Jude comes over and wants to speak to Pops and Aunt Liz. So he asked Jane if she wanted to join them for a quick talk.

The three came back all smiles as the day’s sermon was about what was righteous and right.

Father Jude says. “Regardless of your choice of who your love, if you want a relationship with My god, please come forward to be baptized. I saw a few stand and make their way to the front. Hazel got up with my Aunts and Pops, walking with them down. She stood with them, and all four were blessed into the Church. Smiles, nothing but smiles, one more treat.

I say. “Real long ride home, Aunt Ellen, my dear; you need to use the lady’s room?”

I roll you to a door with a sign marked Women Restroom Wheelchair accessible. I push the door open switch mounted on the wall at wheelchair height. It stays open as Ellen rolls in; it closes on its own slowly. She sees the stained glass wood door on the stall marked with a wheelchair. Ellen goes into the sounds of happy tears, and a woman stands behind me and says. “Does she need help son? The stalls are hard to get in and out of.”

I step out of the way and say. “Thank you, it’s kind of you, but that was then. This is Tomorrow.”

I Escort Kültür hit the open wheelchair button, and the door opens, and so does her mouth. I hear lots of fun laughter coming from the restroom now. Bob, John, and Jean came over and asked me. “What did you do now, young man?”

Jean sees the sign and goes into more cries. Hazel and Pops, with my aunts, come to join us. Hazel starts talking. “Dan knew we were here doing this. He made the restroom for Ellen and the ramp out back. Dan may not believe, but he walks in the light. I never once worried about Dan’s morals, even if he cusses like a farmhand.”

We all ate Sunday bird and spent the day talking about the wedding and our plans for a wild ride in the future. I asked my grandfather. “Do you plan to leave the farm to Dad or your Sister?”

My Pops shocks me and says. “I’m leaving it to you two.”

I say. “Hazel, may I have a word, please, dear?”

Hazel says. “No need, dear, go ahead. The farm looks too much like work, and our life is elsewhere. Go on, give them the farm if they want it. It sounds like they earned it by working so hard together.”

I say. “I love you, my dear woman.”

I say. “Pops leave the farm to your Sister so they have a place to retire. I understand you could sell most of the place and keep the tank and gardens. Then, you can stop working because you’re out of debt and won’t have to work as hard.”

Pops hugs me, and we agree to eat more crayfish soon. I give him his candies to take back, and he gives me green things to make more he grows it between the corn in the garden and the barn and the cows and pigs. It makes the ground healthy after it’s processed into composted fertilizer. The smell in till it gets to that stage it is stinky.

I was left to myself Tuesday as the ladies went to their dress fittings. I had planned for almost a year to go check him out. I now have my sketch for a hand-controlled Van and detailed blueprints. So I thought it was time to see this Mr. Ramirez at the high school auto shop that changed my friend’s life. The shop was neat but busy when I got there. There were four stalls with lifts and four cars, but a van was being worked on. Joey met me there and introduced us.

I say. “Hello, nice to meet you; wait, what’s that? Sorry nice meeting you, Sir, but please tell me, is that Van for sale?”

He says. “It’s being made for sale; what is your need for a lift?”

“I have an Aunt who is an excellent cook. So I promised to figure out how to get her mobile again with hand controls in a van.”

I say, digging in my shoulder bag; I pull my drawings out. Spreading out on a clear spot, The shop feels like mine. It was a better home than most homes. A door marked showers, and you can see a kitchen with a classroom on the side.

I say. “I did these a few days ago; it’s not new there are the same controls on a model A Ford and some boats.”

I point out the standard linkage. The teacher called his seniors over.

One says. “They looked at the controls and talked about how two walked over and took measurements.”

Another says. “Shit, Mr. Chief, Sir, these drawings are specked with stock sizes. I love tackling this.”

“Sir; somebody busted a knuckle to learn this.” One of the shop guys says.

I say. “Name a number, take it to Austin, and get it inspected by the State Auto inspection service. I pay for a flatbed, and all you kids get paid. Joey, my Aunt, want’s this for her new catering business. I’m unsure what color she wants, but drop me a number, and bro, you go too low. You know I could kick your ass.”

I wrote a check for most of the Van. “I should use your phone. I should tell my bride-to-be I wrote a check so I will remember. “Hon, please ask me when we kiss again. I bought Ellen’s Van, and could you find out what color she wants on her Van without telling her it’s her van color?”

She asked. “Do you have Joey there?”

I answered. “Yes, and many high school kids, so here is Joey; it’s Hazel, my Hazy.”

He talks for a few seconds on the phone to you and hands the phone back. He mumbled. “I got to look at the Van if it’s too cheap. But, dude, you could just hurt me. She takes my whole family; after my Nonna, you’re now the third scariest person I know.” He slaps me on the back.

I say. “Wait till you meet her; she loves her car. It’s one of just like her she is sweet. She refuses not to pay our share. I am glad she got that from me, but that’s it. Anything good in my life is a ripple of loving her.”

That night as we snuggled watching a movie on TV with John and Ellen when we returned to my place till it was time to say good night. I picked you up, and you moaned in my neck as we ascended the stairs. We burned one as we slowly danced the steps of our dance, not moving more than the imagined box we had on the floor and stopping to give you smoking hot kisses.

Hazel says. “Need a plan B. If there are too many kids, we should tone it down some.”

I say, laughing. “Tell me as we set up for the bungled start.”

Hazel laughed. “I’m not sure if most folks will know you can’t dance or will care about it, and it’s kind of three stooges, baby.”

I say. “I understand, Baby. I wanted silly, but it so easy pleasing you.”

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