“Ten Inches. Can you believe that shit?”
“I don’t know,” Ralph said, his warm body embracing Bo from behind. “Maybe I’m a good solid eight.”
Bo looked over his shoulder at him. He smirked, but the look in his eyes suggested he might be contemplating it.
It was the next morning, and they were standing by the bay window where he had opened the blinds to a vast and snowy landscape, Ralph’s truck just a large white mass in the driveway.
“At least you’re in the garage,” Ralph said, pointing. “Look what I have to deal with now.”
Bo reached down without turning, giving Ralph’s crotch a light squeeze. “I’m worth it and you know it.”
“Yes. Yes, you are.”
“So, we could shovel the driveway, probably make it down to the main road in my truck. 29 will be plowed, guaranteed. There’s aBob Evanstwo exits away on 100. I could eat a big breakfast. How about you?”
“Most definitely,” Ralph agreed. “But there’s only one problem.”
Bo looked at him, uncertain.
“I didn’t bring a shovel. Did you?”
Bo laughed. “No. And I’ll be damned if I didn’t see a whole bin of them at Wal-Mart yesterday. Didn’t even think to buy one.”
“I’m sure others will be shoveling later today. We can probably borrow one. But I’m not up for knocking on doors right now.”
“No,” said Bo. “Me either.”
“We have Moo Shu pork and fried rice. That’s kind of a Chinese version of eggs and pancakes. Wish we had some coffee though.”
“I bought some instant. Get that fire going and I’ll whip something up.”
“Will do.” Ralph put his jeans and loafers on. He grabbed his jacket, not bothering with a shirt, and went out back. A few minutes later, he returned with an armful of wood. “It’s deep, and these loafers aren’t worth a damn in it.”
“Yeah, I’m sure,” Bo said, removing a steaming plate of leftover Chinese from the microwave, and putting two mugs of water in. “We are woefully unprepared for all this.”
Ralph put some logs in the fireplace and left the extra on the hearth. He stoked the remains from the night before and logs caught quickly. He removed his coat and shoes and remained shirtless in his jeans, warming himself by the fire.
Bo placed the mugs of hot water on the counter and gestured Ralph over. “Do you mind eating off the same plate?”
Ralph shook his head. “Nope. If one of us has cooties, we both do by now... but make it two spoonfuls of that coffee in my mug, please.”
Bo did as Ralph requested. They were quiet while they ate, both hungry and slightly hungover from the night before.
Ralph broke the silence: “You were talking about the weather, right?”
“How so?” Bo asked.
“When you said we werewoefully unpreparedfor all this.”
Bo looked at him for a moment, foggy—then his eyes widened with comprehension. “Oh! You meant this,” he said, pointing back and forth between them.
Ralph nodded. There was a little sauce smeared on his cheek. Bo reached out with a paper napkin, wiping it.
“Yes. I meant the weather, Ralph. Not us.”
“Just checking,” Ralph said, now stirring the food more than eating it. “Sorry, Bo. I’m a little insecure—especially in the morning. The guys I see are usually wanting me gone at first light.”
Bo reached out again, lifting Ralph’s chin so their eyes met. “No. I don’t want that, Ralph. I’m glad you’re here.”
