Mental Strappado

Harley MacDonald Beloved "brother" of Charlie MacDonald

[bigbaradad]

The MacDonald Family Tree

[prin-sis-blog]

"Naw, he’s our honored guest!  A diplomat come to see the queen."  She’s not sure what "diplomat" means, but it sounds fancy enough to be flattering.  She’s spent days watching D-SPAN, memorizing its pronunciation for when she finally has a visitor to her castle.  "Make sure to dress real nice when you meet ‘er.  You’re always dressed real nice, though." 

[baddomama-blog]

"Uh-huh. I’m sure he considers himself one." She’s unsure how she even learned that word. She was pretty sure Cecil was going way beyond anything they had taught her. “Let your uncle get settled in, Cecil. He’s only been here a few hours, y’know?”

[surrogate-brother]

Harley gives a slight nod, just barely smiling.  "I'll drop by Her Highness' abode sometime.  Maybe I should bring 'er a gift, too.  To show goodwill and all."  In a manner which indicates either refinement or social awkwardness, he slowly uprights himself before taking his plate over to the sink, his posture rigid.  "I shall be in my room.  Please knock if you need anything."

[bigbaradad]

The MacDonald Family Tree

[surrogate-brother]

"Cleanin’ won’t be an issue, Mrs. Becky.  I used to be a janitor as well.  ’Sides, it’s what I do for fun, as boring as that sounds."  Unlike his blood relatives, Harley dines in the same way he dresses — properly and with little variation.  He eats as if he isn’t even hungry, slowly consuming each food item in a mechanical fashion until the plate is completely clean.  "Right.  My apologies to the chef."

[baddomama-blog]

"For fun? Well, alright. Just don’t push yourself too hard, okay?" She sips her water, observing him. She wondered if all blood MacDonalds were similar. From Cecil to Charlie to Harley, they all seemed to have their quirks. It was almost cute. "It’s no problem. Just tell me if you want more."

[surrogate-brother]

"You worry about me far too much, Mrs. Becky.  It doesn't take much to keep me content."  Harley catches those doll-like, grey eyes looming over him from the edge of her cup.  He slowly sets his fork down, not breaking eye contact with her.  "Actually, I believe I am sated.  Would it be alright if I took a short recess from the table?  I'll return later to do the dishes."

[bigbaradad]

The MacDonald Family Tree

[bigbaradad]

"Yeah, stay as long as you hafta, bro.  I mean, I was thinkin’ of hirin’ somebody to help my wife around the house while I’m away."  The gargantuan jock is already jamming food into his mouth, pausing only to drink the pile down and inject a few words into the conversation.  Occasionally, he reminds his little daughter to have a few bites of her dinner.  "Yeah, it’s like we were never separated.  So, uh, who’d you play for?"

[baddomama-blog]

"I can manage fine by myself. ‘Sides, Harley’s not here to clean." She eyes them both, wishing Royce was here. "Eat up, Harley. Your food’s gonna get cold." She adds more vegetables to Charlie’s plate, which is severely lacking in that area.

[surrogate-brother]

"Cleanin' won't be an issue, Mrs. Becky.  I used to be a janitor as well.  'Sides, it's what I do for fun, as boring as that sounds."  Unlike his blood relatives, Harley dines in the same way he dresses — properly and with little variation.  He eats as if he isn't even hungry, slowly consuming each food item in a mechanical fashion until the plate is completely clean.  "Right.  My apologies to the chef."

[bigbaradad]

The MacDonald Family Tree

[bigbaradad]

"All a part of bein’ a MacDonald.  You should meet my son.  He’s already got his own entourage, and the kid’s only ten."  The avid football player nearly rockets out of his seat, his face twisted into an expression of euphoric bliss.  He’s done it; he’s met an actual person from his fandom.  "I played QB, too!  Holy shins!  I mean, I play QB now, if you don’t know already. Which team’re you rootin’ for?"

[baddomama-blog]

"He’s havin’ dinner at one of their houses today, too. Suzy Fitzgerald or somethin’." She raises a brow at her husband’s expression as she spoons vegetables onto Cecil’s plate. As soon as he starts in about football, she rolls her eyes and blocks it out. After all these years, she can only be bothered to care about his career rather than anything else.

[surrogate-brother]

"Well, I hope your boy ain't opposed to havin' me over for a while.  I prob'bly shoulda called beforehand, but I didn't think you folks would be so generous."  The smaller man flusters before quickly adjusting his tie. He still hasn't disturbed the food on his plate, perhaps finding it rude to speak over a meal.  "I, uh, I used to play quarterback as well.  Not to sound like I'm fluffin' your feathers or anything, but I'm a Forty-Niners fan, sir."

[bigbaradad]

The MacDonald Family Tree

[prin-sis-blog]

"The castle welcomes you."  Cecil reaches out to wrap a hand around two of his fingers, before leaning forward and planting a kiss on the knuckle. She releases him with a proud grin on that chubby-cheeked face.  "Yep, I’m gonna be quarterback!  I figure I’m the strongest kid in my whole class!"

The dog walks a tight circle into the carpet, before planting himself down and whining.  Those large, black eyes remain leashed to the new human, the one who reeks of musk and that stuff Pack Mama always smears on her face.

[surrogate-brother]

He takes a few moments to admire the invisible kiss on his hand, before pretending to swoon at the kindergartener's smooth mannerisms.  "I see this one's a real charmer.  Just like her old man."  The man never seems to laugh, only smile in that very guarded way he does.  "I used to be a QB, too, believe it or not.  Folks were sayin' that I coulda made it to the league, but I wanted a real quiet life, y'know?"

[bigbaradad]

The MacDonald Family Tree

[bigbaradad]

The beaming father gives Cecil an affectionate pet on the head, returning her hair to its previous state of wildness.  The five-year-old pouts before trying to rearrange the wavy tendrils into something remotely presentable. “This one’s my youngest, Cecil.  She’s in kindergarten right now.  We’re thinkin’ about signin’ her up for Pop Warner.”  He recounts with a burgeoning sense of pride.

"Doggy, down."  The beastly canine lets out a few warning calls, which causes the jock to raise a brow.  He hasn’t heard him bark like that in years.

[surrogate-brother]

He rewards the girl's efforts with a humoring smile, one corner of his lips hiking up higher than the other.  She's definitely Charlie MacDonald's kid.  "Alright, I think I'll just call ya Cecil for now. Much obliged."  Harley holds out a titanic hand from across the table, offering to shake like an adult.  "A football player, huh?  She gonna be a QB like her old man?"  

[bigbaradad]

The MacDonald Family Tree

[surrogate-brother]

"It was my callin’, Mrs.  It wasn’t always about the practical work, not that I was opposed to it.  But it was guaranteed that I’d see a friendly face at least once a day."  He remains standing off to the side, his hands half-in his pockets now that he’s exhausted his designated workload.  His lips sink at the question, but he doesn’t appear particularly upset.  "Naw, don’t got any young ones.  I guess I just never found that person I wanted to start a family with, y’know?"

[baddomama-blog]

"Sounds, uh, good." She notices his stance. "Why don’t you take a seat, Harley?" She gestures to a chair next to Charlie’s at the table. She begins to pile it with food as well. She rolls her eyes at Charlie’s insinuation, but a comforting smile returns to her lips soon afterward. "Well, that’s just fine. Not everyone gets settled down as quick as us."

[surrogate-brother]

A small smile makes its way onto his face.  He quietly seats himself, a little discomforted by the swell of hospitality.  "Thank you, Mrs.  I'm lookin' forward to my first supper with my, uh, my family."  Even with the copious amounts of food stacked in front of him, he waits with his hands in his lap for the other occupants of the table.  "I figured.  You two got somethin' real special here, if you don't mind me bein' so bold."

[bigbaradad]

The MacDonald Family Tree

[baddomama-blog]

"Uh, alright, then." She backs off, a little put off by the supposed country manners. She continues the blender for a few minutes, then pours it out into her husband’s special mug. "That sounds nice. Did you like it?" She sets the mug in front of the large chair that belongs to her husband as well. Becky begins piling food onto his plate.

[bigbaradad]

"That’s real big of you, Harley.  It’s as if you’re already a part of the team!"  He seats himself in his wooden throne at the side of the table, since the head is reserved for his wife, the princess.  "Speakin’ of kids, you got any?  Me an’ Miss Becky have two of ‘em already.  We might get a third in the future."  He winks at Becky.

[surrogate-brother]

"It was my callin', Mrs.  It wasn't always about the practical work, not that I was opposed to it.  But it was guaranteed that I'd see a friendly face at least once a day."  He remains standing off to the side, his hands half-in his pockets now that he's exhausted his designated workload.  His lips sink at the question, but he doesn't appear particularly upset.  "Naw, don't got any young ones.  I guess I just never found that person I wanted to start a family with, y'know?"

[bigbaradad]

The MacDonald Family Tree

[surrogate-brother]

"Sure did, Mrs.  Lived with some real nice folks.  Sorta impossible to live by yourself there when you know everyone."  He forces his gaze away from Charlie’s happily squinted eyes and assists Becky in moving a few plates to the table.  "It’s located back in Owsley County, Kentucky.  Needless to say, I ain’t too used to all the noise here."

[baddomama-blog]

"Small towns are liked that." She knew all too well. She sets down glasses, then pitchers of drinks. "You don’t need to do that, Harley. It’s fine." She sets to making Charlie’s protein shake. "Well, that’s alright. What’d you do over there job-wise?" She pauses the near silent blender to look at him.

[surrogate-brother]

"I respectfully insist, Mrs. Becky.  People back where I come from help one another out whenever they can."  Harley occupies himself with carefully arranging the silverware, only tearing his gaze away to meet hers.  Despite the luxuries surrounding him, he speaks with a very faint undertone of pride.  "I managed a toy store, but we sold a buncha other stuff.  Baby supplies, clothes, and furniture, mostly."

[bigbaradad]

The MacDonald Family Tree

[baddomama-blog]

She bites back from calling him a smartass. “Booneville. So, were you living with anyone?” She turns off the stove and gets to setting the table for breakfast. She nudges Charlie as she passes him, urging him to ask questions as well.

[bigbaradad]

"Whoops, ‘scuse me, my love.  Didn’t see ya there, " he says in response to the sudden jab at his side.  He cannot stop grinning, a trait which causes his brother to slowly pull back his lips into an uneasy smile.  "Booneville, huh?  Where’s that, again?"

[surrogate-brother]

"Sure did, Mrs.  Lived with some real nice folks.  Sorta impossible to live by yourself there when you know everyone."  He forces his gaze away from Charlie's happily squinted eyes and assists Becky in moving a few plates to the table.  "It's located back in Owsley County, Kentucky.  Needless to say, I ain't too used to all the noise here."

[bigbaradad]

The MacDonald Family Tree

[baddomama-blog]

She turns at the voice, stiffening slightly at being heard. She scoffs quietly at the wet spots. Some grown man who can’t even dry his hair right. “Fine, then. Where are you coming from?” Simple enough for him. She’d rather her husband ask all the harder questions.

[surrogate-brother]

"The bus station, Mrs.  But if you mean before that, I lived in a real, real small town called Booneville.  It's a whole lot different from this place."  His gaze briefly wanders around the room, taking in the purple flames of the gas stove or the palm trees swaying outside the Venetian window.  "Lot more laidback."

[bigbaradad]

The MacDonald Family Tree

[bigbaradad]

At the question, his arms slowly fall away from her and remain drooping at his sides.  A prominent frown plasters itself onto his face.  ”O— Of course I am! I mean, the dude looks just like me!”  His eyes search aimlessly, unsure of what he’s supposed to find.  ”What’s so suspicious about it?”

[baddomama-blog]

"I’m just saying, sweetie. You should get to know him better. Ask him questions and stuff." She turns and plants a kiss on his cheek. "I don’t mean anything bad by it. Just get to know your brother more." Hopefully, he proves to not be the phony he probably is.

[surrogate-brother]

"Your wife's right, bro.  You should at least know a little about the guy sleepin' down the hall from you."  He appears at the doorway, garbed in another button-up shirt with wet blotches on the shoulders from his damp hair.  It seems almost polite how he takes notice of the dark spots and blushes.  "You two are welcome to ask me any questions right now, if it ain't no trouble."

[bigbaradad]

The MacDonald Family Tree

[bigbaradad]

Having been preoccupied with his own attempts at wife-oggling, he doesn't notice his so-called brother doing the same.  The quarterback leads his new second-stringer to a stately bathroom, one built for people of their grotesque proportions.  

"I know, bro.  I’m reminded of how lucky I am every day with her around.  So…  You need me to stick around, or are you good here?  I don’t want’cha dyin’ durin’ your first game."

[surrogate-brother]

"Please, don't trouble yourself.  I've played on some real bad turf, so this place is like Memorial Stadium."  With a single nod and a coy smile, he urges Charlie back into the hallway before quietly shutting the door in his face.

That pleasant smile quickly dissolves into a straight line when he turns towards his own image in the polished glass.  Slowly, he undoes the first few buttons of his ruined shirt, only to be met with the mountain range of acne marring the rounds of his pecs.  With sinking lips, he allows the faucet to spew scalding water until his vision is obscured by wisps of steam.

[bigbaradad]

The MacDonald Family Tree

[baddomama-blog]

"Well, you just got here. You should freshen up and rest. Bathroom’s down the hall to the left." She eyes his sweaty shirt. Just like her husband, surprisingly. Maybe they were brothers. "If you need anything, just tell us."

She walks off to the kitchen, still unsure about their new house guest. It was only for a week, though. She had been in her parents’ grip for a month, so this was nothing compared to that. At least, she hoped so.

[surrogate-brother]

"That's mighty kind of you, Mrs.  I'm real sure you don't want me touchin' your food like this."  He notices her gaze and sucks in a slow breath, causing the sticky fabric to pull taut over his large pecs.  His nipple piercings make small outlines in his shirt.  "Same for me, Mrs.  I ain't no genius, but I know my way around a toolbox.  And a vacuum cleaner."

A smile emerges on his face as she disappears into the hallway.  He turns towards the larger man.  "You're real lucky, Charlie.  Wish I had a little wife like that."

[bigbaradad]

The MacDonald Family Tree

[surrogate-brother]

"Alright, Mrs. Becky MacDonald.  I’ll remember that."  He lingers behind her, those familiar eyes observing how her curves flounce when she walks. Charlie is one lucky bastard.  "Well, Mrs. Becky, people call me Harley.  Harley MacDonald.  But you can call me whatever you’d like!"

[baddomama-blog]

"Right." She pushes open the furthest away guest room door. "Here you go. I hope you like it." She checks to see if there are sheets and blankets. She nods, satisfied. "Harley’s fine."

[surrogate-brother]

He calmly sets aside his belongings in one corner, pausing to admire the opulence which had once been so familiar to him.  His gaze pins itself to the mirror at the far end of the room — he sees himself so horribly out of place with his sweat-dampened shirt and old luggage.  

"This room'll be just stellar, Mrs. Becky.  So, uh, do you folks want some breakfast?  It's the least I could do for stayin' underneath your roof."

[bigbaradad]

The MacDonald Family Tree

[bigbaradad]

"T— Thanks, babe!  If anything goes wrong, you can totally blame me!"  His eyes are nearly dribbling over again from the weight of his gratitude.  For now, he expresses his thanks with a barrage of wet kisses on her tired face.  "Thank you!"  Charlie turns towards his brother, sniffing loudly.  "This here’s my wife.  As you can see, she’s my angel.  I ask that you treat ‘er like one."

[baddomama-blog]

"Uh-huh." She crosses her arms, tilting her head at the new brother in-law. "I’m Rebecca, but you can call me Becky. Now, let’s get you settled in… What was your name again?" Hopefully, the guest room farthest from theirs would be fine.

[surrogate-brother]

"Alright, Mrs. Becky MacDonald.  I'll remember that."  He lingers behind her, those familiar eyes observing how her curves flounce when she walks. Charlie is one lucky bastard.  "Well, Mrs. Becky, people call me Harley.  Harley MacDonald.  But you can call me whatever you'd like!"

[bigbaradad]

The MacDonald Family Tree

[baddomama-blog]

She stares at the smaller bara. “Are you plannin’ on just stayin’ for Thanksgiving, then?” She hopes so. She doesn’t know how an extended stay would go with this stranger. Especially with the kids around. She wasn’t sure if they were ready for a new uncle popping up.

[bigbaradad]

"Of course he’s stayin’!  I mean, you don’t got a place booked already, right?  Right?"  He holds his new brother out in front of him as if he were a newborn puppy.  "If you do, just cancel!  Our house is way better than any hotel.  I hope you’re not allergic to dogs."  Before the other man can utter an answer, Charlie turns to the side and sets him down onto the tiles of their foyer.

[surrogate-brother]

"I, uh, I just arrived from the bus station.  I was gonna check into a hotel once I was done here, but I'd like to stay if it ain't too much trouble on you kind folks."  He has the luggage to prove for it, too: one leather travel case, a loaded backpack, and a few dingy grocery bags full of items he picked up at the last minute.