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Watching Brad

Another excellent chapter !!!
Poor Ted - he's always bearing the weight of everything on his shoulders.
 
Thanks again Neil, Great chapter!!
Poor Ted, Here we go again, deja vu setting in!!
I hope all the others can help him to realise that the big house is really possible.
Look forward to next week's chapter!
Is Grant gay? or bi ??
Hugs
Harry
 
Is Grant gay? or bi ??
Hugs
Harry

No, he's neither gay nor bi. Probably married, but I don't know yet. I'm guessing that you're asking because of his 'giggle'. I got the idea for that on a whim when I remembered a guy (happily married) I'd seen on HGTV. He was a big guy. Not muscular, but just 'big'. And he giggled. To see him and listen to him talk, you would expect a 'Hulk Hogan' laugh when, in fact, he had a 'Betty Boop' thing going.
 
No, he's neither gay nor bi. Probably married, but I don't know yet. I'm guessing that you're asking because of his 'giggle'. I got the idea for that on a whim when I remembered a guy (happily married) I'd seen on HGTV. He was a big guy. Not muscular, but just 'big'. And he giggled. To see him and listen to him talk, you would expect a 'Hulk Hogan' laugh when, in fact, he had a 'Betty Boop' thing going.

"Sweet"! Another great observation slipped into Your incredible story!! :=D: ..|

Keep smilin'!! :kiss:(*8*)
Chaz ;)
 
This story just seems to maintain its high standard rather easily and it just gets better and better... Keep more coming, Neil;-).
 
Another great chapter. Ted sure can point out David's faults but can't see what he is doing, AGAIN!!!
 
WATCHING BRAD
Part 187​

"They're late," Brad said as he checked his watch for the umteenth time.

It was Friday night and Mom and Dad were back home looking after the kids who, with any luck, were now tucked snugly and safely in bed. We had driven into Oshawa earlier that evening to do the shopping for Lindsay's birthday party the next day. Nathan had offered to buy all the food himself, but, since he'd catered Lindsay's little get-together with Daniel the week before, I refused to allow him to feed everyone for the party as well. The kids had ridden in the van with Brad and I as we drove to Zellers. Mom and Dad had followed in my car. As Mom and Lindsay bought the groceries according to a list supplied by Nathan - including real ground beef instead of frozen beef patties -Dad came with the ‘the guys' as we searched the aisles in Zellers for party decorations, hats, balloons, party favours, birthday-themed paper plates, napkins, and cups, and so on. When we were all finished and gathered together again, we loaded the party things into the van and Dad, with Mom in the passenger seat and the kids riding behind him, drove it back home. Brad and I continued on to Toronto in my car.

And now we were sitting in our favourite lounge in The Village in Toronto, sitting at a linen-covered table for four and listening to our friend, Peter, as he played the piano for the patrons. It was the first time we'd been there since we had met Brook after he had ‘rescued' Brad from that groper in the bar that night, but we decided that it was still our favourite place for a quiet night out with our friends.

Brad was nursing a glass of beer but, since I would be driving home later, I was sipping on a glass of ginger ale for the moment. I would allow myself the luxury of sharing a beer or two with Brook and David before reverting back to ginger ale.

Brad and I talked briefly about Lindsay's party and our plans for Sunday, then fell silent as we listened to Peter playing a delightful rendition of The Impossible Dream. Suddenly, in the middle of the song and right out of the blue, Brad leaned forward and said secretly, "I think David likes me."

"Of course he does, Brad. David likes everybody."

"No, Ted," Brad explained as he quickly glanced to either side lest there be eavesdroppers lurking nearby. "I think he really likes me."

"I'm not sure what you're getting at," I said as I rested my arms on the table and leaned closer to him.

Brad leaned even closer to me and said, "I think he keeps saying things about my. . ." he glanced to the sides again, ". . . you know. . . my dick." The last two words came out in little more than a whisper

I'm sure a puzzled look came across my face. "You ‘think' he does?"

"Well, I'm not sure. I mean, maybe I could be taking everything he says the wrong way, but sometimes the things he says to me sound like that's what he's talking about. . . like he wants to. . . to. . . you know, ‘be with me'."

I sat back in my chair and began to laugh lightly.

"It's not funny, Ted," Brad admonished. "I'm serious!"

"So am I, Brad. David's just joking with you. He's not trying to get into your pants."

"Are you sure?"

I nodded. "I'm sure. Remember how Cali used to tease you all the time about how big you are?" Brad nodded quickly, his green eyes bright with interest. "That's what David's doing, too, except that he's a lot more subtle about it than Cali is."

Brad sat back and heaved a huge sigh of relief. "Gee-sus, Murphy," he said, "that's been bugging me all week."

"Really?"

Brad nodded once. "I was so afraid he really was and you'd find out about it and think he was hitting on me or something. I didn't want him to get into trouble."

"Why did you tell me, then?"

"I don't want to keep secrets from you, Ted. At least not serious secrets like that. You can't build a marriage on lies and secrets."

A sudden chill swept through my body and a shiver flew up my spine. I opened my mouth to respond but, before I could, there was a sudden rush of footsteps behind me and two hands clamped themselves securely over my eyes as a familiar voice chanted, "Guess who-o-o-o-o!"

"Queen Elizabeth," I replied, grinning to myself.

"Close enough," David said as he pulled his hands away from my eyes, grabbed my shoulders from behind, and planted a solid, noisy kiss on my right cheek. He stepped to my left and bent down to kiss Brad on the cheek as well before continuing around the table and taking the chair opposite me. "Holy, shit, Brad," he said, his smile wide and bright and his eyes twinkling in the flickering table candles, "you smell good!"

"Thanks," Brad said, returning David's smile as Brook slid easily into the chair directly to my right.

"I love being able to do that and not having to worry," David said happily. His lip had healed by that time and his black eye was little more than a shadow. "Sorry we're late. Something came up when we were taking our shower. Two things, actually. I had fun getting them back down, though, didn't I?" He looked at Brook, his bright smile beaming in the dimly-lit room, and gave his lover a quick and wicked wink before leaning forward to give him a short but very passionate kiss on the lips. He sat back in his chair and squeezed his lower jaw between his fingers and thumb as he opened his mouth wide and worked his jaw back and forth a few times as if loosening it up. Then, releasing his jaw, looking me right in the eye and winking, his lips curled up into a mischievous smirk as he said, "But you know what that's all about, don't you, Ted?" As we all started to laugh, he added, "Damn! I need a beer!"

The rest of the evening went pretty-much the same. We laughed, we talked, we danced, and we even cried a little bit, but we all had a lot of fun. At one o'clock, we walked to the car and I drove them to their apartment which was, in fact, within walking distance from the lounge. As David climbed awkwardly out of the car, he suddenly got a bad case of the wobbles and just about fell flat on his face had Brook not grabbed him. This brought about a rather lengthy giggling fit for David which continued even after the apartment door locked itself behind them and they waved goodbye to us from the lobby.

* * * * *

Except for one of Lindsay's friends who had to bow out of the party because of a family emergency in North Bay, my daughter's birthday was a resounding success. Warren and Bill were first to arrive early Saturday morning. Nathan and Barry arrived less than ten minutes later.

Typical Warren. He wouldn't want to miss a single instant of his goddaughter's eleventh birthday and had his camera ready and waiting to capture every memorable moment. Warren looked remarkably refreshed and considerably stronger now, stronger even than he'd appeared at the wedding. He didn't even use his wheelchair (even though it was safely stored in the trunk of the car ‘just in case') and he walked quite well on his own although Bill insisted that he walk with someone at all times so Warren could hold onto their arm for support.

"I feel so alive now, Teddy," Warren beamed as we sat together at the kitchen table. "I'm getting stronger every day. My doctor says I'm more healthy now than I was before the surgery. C'est vrais! Can you believe it? I don't even mind my diet anymore. Mind you, I still miss the occasional Coffee Crisp and I still shed a tear when I see a bag of salt and vinegar chips. Or a bag of Wine Gums." He paused and his eyes glazed over as he remembered what used to be. And then he whispered, "Merde."

The back yard, including the jungle gym and the chain-link fence surrounding the swimming pool, was delightfully decorated in colourful pink and white crepe paper streamers and dozens upon dozens of balloons with the words ‘Happy Birthday' imprinted on them were tied everywhere. A large banner proclaiming ‘Happy Birthday' dangled from the patio pergola.

At the prescribed time, just after lunch, Lindsay, Justin, and I went into the city to pick up Lindsay's four friends, including a very excited Daniel who would be staying overnight. Jeremy happily stayed behind with his Daddy Brad and his car safety seat to make room for the additional passengers. Lindsay rode up front with me in the passenger seat.

It had been arranged that I would pick up the kids at the soccer camp field and they were all waiting for us when we arrived. I promised the parents to have them back at the field at seven-thirty that evening. Dan and Tilly Phillips were there as well and I promised them that I would take good care of their son and bring him home early Sunday evening. Tilly hugged her young son and made him promise her that he would be good. He did, of course, and his father mussed his hair and handed him a small overnight bag. "Be good, Champ," Dan said to his son.

"I will, Dad," Daniel said, then ran off to climb into the back of the van to sit in the empty seat beside Justin.

Back at the house, Mom and Dad sat with John and Bernice Hayes and Terry beneath the pergola which was nicely shaded from above by the sweeping ivy which clung to it. Early on, David and Brook spent much of their time sitting with Warren and Bill with David talking avidly to Bill about the process of his becoming a Canadian citizen.

Nathan spent most of his time in Mom's kitchen preparing the barbeque. On his occasional breaks, he joined me and Brad and Barry in supervising the kids in the pool.

With Barry's help, Brad taught the twins how to use the diving board that afternoon and they took special delight in doing cannonballs over and over again. They also learned how to float on their backs without pool noodles to keep them afloat. Lindsay and her friends spent most of the time playing together in the shallow end playing either water volley ball with a plastic, inflated, multi-coloured beach ball or playing badminton on the lawn beyond the pool. During their breaks from all the fun, they sat together near the swings, talking quietly amongst themselves and sipping their refreshments and laughing and giggling and applying sunscreen to each other.

David and Brook eventually joined us in the pool wearing matching box-cut style trunks in a deep cobalt shade of blue. Both were model material on their own but, standing there together with their arms around each other's back, their contrasting bodies actually accented each other and made them an extremely handsome couple.

Late in the afternoon, as we waited for the barbeques to reach temperature, we all gathered on the patio so Lindsay could open her gifts. It was nice to see her so excited and every gift, no matter how small, received the same attention and appreciation. I had expected Warren to go overboard as he often did, but he had come to his senses and kept his gifts to a more sensible number. Of course, he'd brought a little something (toys, of course) for his cherished nephews as well, "just so they don't feel left out, n'est pas?"

After Lindsay finished opening her gifts, she eagerly and excitedly handed out her ‘thank you' cards to everyone. She'd designed them herself and created the cards on one of my computer graphics programs and printed them out and folded them by herself. She'd even created matching envelopes which she's printed, cut out with scissors, folded, and glued together with Terry's guidance. She was so proud of her accomplishments and revelled in the compliments she received.

As usual, Nathan came through with an amazing meal, making and cooking the most mouth-watering burgers in the country and making sure that all the children were fed first before feeding the adults. Barry was truly a lucky man to have found someone like Nathan, and I secretly envied Nathan for being with Barry. Until I met Brad, I had thought myself to be straight. Brad changed all that and I found myself doing things with a man that I had never even considered doing before. I am now convinced that, had I met Barry before I met Brad, I would have done the same things to and with Barry without a second thought.

Bill and Warren, of course, were such a reliable constant in my life. Although sex had never been a consideration with either of them, it comforted me knowing that their friendship was always available. And now there was David and Brook, and they had both shown their loyalty and friendship to us many times over during the short time we'd known them.

As I sat there, looking at everyone and seeing everyone getting along so well and laughing and smiling and being happy, I suddenly realised how extremely and utterly blessed I was to have such cherished and valuable friends and family in my life, not to mention the one man who, for some reason, loved me as much as I love him - my Bradley Nelson de Villiers Hayes.

* * * * *

Sunday morning dawned under grey skies and a slow, steady drizzle, much to the chagrin of two little boys and one little lady. Lindsay was particularly distressed because the outing we had planned for that day had been entirely her decision and it might not happen because of the rain.

Justin awoke me by knocking on my chest with his knuckles. He needn't have bothered. He's already awakened me as he pushed himself into a sitting position as he straddled my stomach. A glance to my left showed me that Jeremy was straddling Brad's stomach in a similar fashion and was gently shaking his shoulder with one tiny hand.

The twins had slept with us (or, I should say, ‘on' us), having sacrificed their bed to Lindsay's friend, Daniel. I don't really think it was much of a sacrifice for them, though. If they had their way, I'm certain Brad and I would be their mattresses every night of the year.

Daniel was becoming more and more comfortable around us and was truly amazed at being served his first-ever ‘Full English Breakfast'. In fact, he asked for a paper and pen so he could write down everything that was served to him so he wouldn't forget anything when he told his parents about it. I did him one better and took his photo with his plate in front of him, his face bright with excitement and anticipation, as he sliced of a bite-sized piece of a banger.

The rain shower didn't last very long, fortunately. By the time we finished eating, it had virtually stopped and the misty clouds were beginning to burn off, revealing the blue morning sky behind them. Bernice phoned to see if the plans were still on and, within the hour, she and John were pulling into the driveway. Shortly thereafter, the van and Dad's car were loaded and we were on our way. The kids rode in the van with me and Brad. The grandparents followed us in Dad's car, mainly because it was a four-door sedan and easier for Mom and Bernice to get into and out of the back seat.

The drive was uneventful, being Sunday morning, and, as we approached the city, Brad made a quick phone call. We would make a brief stop to reacquaint ourselves with an old friend and to introduce him to the rest of our family. I knew it would be crowded in his apartment, so it was decided we would simply stop by and greet him at the front of his building. This, too, had been Lindsay's idea. She was enormously anxious and excited to show him the results of her crafty endeavours. He would be sitting out front, waiting and watching for us.

When we left Maple Grove, we made certain that we had the printed maps with us. Brad acted as navigator, guiding me through the city as I kept an eye on my mirrors to be sure that Dad was still right behind us. None of them in the car had been to Peterborough before and I was already well aware how easy it could be to get lost there. It had happened to us only a year earlier. Lindsay and Daniel were keeping a keen eye on them out the back window as well, so I wasn't very concerned about losing Dad in the traffic.

It wasn't difficult getting to Neil's place when we knew where we were going. Unlike the first time when we randomly changed directions willy-nilly in an effort to find our way to our destination (which, as you undoubtedly recall, is how we met Neil in the first place), the journey to his home was relatively quick and simple. We exited the main highway from Toronto and, following the roads and then the streets, we had only to make one right turn and one left turn to find him.

"There's the library," Brad said after a time, pointing to a large brick building to our left. "The gas station should be just ahead on the right." A block later, as we waited at the stop lights, Brad said, "Yup. There it is. Not far to go now."

Brad was right. I recognized the area and the streets. On our first trip, we had approached the next intersection from the left, desperately in search of a bathroom for my daughter, and had found Neil instead when Brad insisted that I stop and ask him for directions. Neil had offered the use of his own bathroom and politely offered us refreshment, resulting in our new-found friendship.

We found him easily, sitting on the front veranda of his building as promised. Sam, his dog, lay quietly at his side. I pulled over to the curb and parked, putting on the emergency flashers. Lindsay assured me that Dad had parked directly behind me as we carefully began to disembark. Neil and Sam came down the steps to greet us. Sam was barking, but her tail was whipping back and forth. I sensed that she actually recognized us. Neil carried a plastic shopping bag in his hand.

Introductions were made all around and hands were shaken. The twins immediately sat on the grass, petting the dog who had settled there. Lindsay took great pride in introducing Daniel to Neil and took even greater pride in showing him the pieces of the Santa's Village she had completed.

"They still stink like smoke a bit," she said, "but at least they didn't get burnt up like the rest of our stuff."

Neil examined the plastic canvas post office, turning it over in his hands and admiring it, then lifting it to his nose and taking a sniff. "Yes," he said softly, "your father told me about the fire. I'm very sorry, but I'm happy you managed to rescue your village."

"Thanks," Lindsay replied. "We're getting a new house and Terry said she could make the village smell nicer with some poopery."

Neil let out a breathy but friendly chuckle. "I think you mean ‘potpourri'."

"Oh, yeah. That stuff. Thanks." Nonplused, Lindsay replaced the post office building with the reindeer barn. "Look," she said, pointing. "Eight reindeer sticking their heads out the windows. Just like yours."

"Excellent," Neil said in total admiration. "Will you have the rest of it finished before Christmas?"

"I sure will," she answered with utmost certainty. "I can send you a picture of them, if you like."

"I'd like that very much. Thank you."

Lindsay and Daniel joined the twins in petting a very willing Sam and Sam busied herself licking every face which came within range of her tongue.

As the kids talked and played together at our side, we adults talked amongst ourselves for a few minutes. Before we left, Neil offered a bathroom break to anyone who needed it. I made certain the kids went, whether or not they felt they had to. As we said our goodbyes, Neil held out the grocery bag to me. Inside, there was a large freezer bag full of home-baked chocolate chip cookies and another bag with date squares. He also gave us two loaves of banana bread.

"I baked them yesterday for you, and I sliced and buttered a loaf of banana bread in case someone wanted to sample it this afternoon," he said with a tiny smile and a slight nod toward the boys.

"I'm sure they will," I said. "Thanks."

He looked at me and Brad then with great fondness. "I really would have liked to have been at your wedding, but. . . well, you know."

"We understand," Brad told him. "We could feel you there with us in spirit. Did you get the pictures I sent in the Emails?"

"Yes, I did, thank you. They're wonderful. You make a very handsome couple." He looked down at the kids. "And I can't remember ever seeing two more handsome young ring bearers and a prettier flower girl."

I didn't even have to remind the children to thank him. They did it all on their own.

We left shortly after that, having been given easy directions to our ultimate destination. The visit with Neil had been understandably short, but it was only the beginning of our outing. Soon we were driving north with the river clearly visible on our right side and flowing in the opposite direction as we made our way to the zoo. That is where Lindsay had wanted to go. Minutes later, we were there.

We spend several hours at the zoo, enjoying the various animals roaming about the grounds, and we all enjoyed the miniature steam locomotive train ride which took us on a very pleasant and leisurely ride across the river and back again. We enjoyed a picnic lunch, adequately provided by Mom and Bernice and with a surprise dessert of cookies and banana bread courtesy of our friend. Of course, the kids spent over an hour playing in the huge play ground there and we stripped the twins down to their shorts so they could splash around in the wading pool and to run beneath the large sprinklers.

Eventually, we packed up, climbed into the van and car again, and then, with me in the lead, we drove north a short distance, following Neil's recommended directions, before crossing a bridge over the river and turning south, returning to the city proper on the other bank - the ‘scenic route' as Neil had told us. Brad had no trouble following the directions on his map and we were soon at our next destination.

The hydraulic liftlock in Peterborough is, apparently, the highest in the world with gigantic twin tanks counterbalancing each other, raising and lowering pleasure boats to different levels on the canal system. It truly is a marvel of engineering and quite exciting - if not a bit frightening - to watch. As we stood there beside the canal, we watched a tourist boat being directed into the lower tank along with a number of other water craft in order to be raised to the upper level of the canal. I suddenly had an idea.

"Brad," I said quietly, "call Neil and find out where we catch that boat."

Brad did as I asked and, as soon as the lock finished its circuit, we left. The directions to the docks were simple and, with four surprised and excited children in tow, we soon found ourselves queueing up at Little Lake, very close to where we had been the previous year when we had come to Peterborough to listen to the music concert and to watch the illuminated boat show and fireworks. I knew Mom wasn't very keen on boats, but she bravely joined us aboard the craft and, despite her reservations, thoroughly enjoyed herself as the boat made its way across the lake, past the huge Centennial Fountain, and into the canal. The twins sat in our laps, watching everything that went on around us. We passed through two swing bridges - one train and one street - as the boat made its way to the liftlock. It took some time, but the time passed quickly and we eventually found ourselves in place within the gigantic tank of the liftlock and waiting to be lifted almost twenty metres to the level above.

Finally, after considerable excitement and some fanfare, the tank started to move, raising slowly, yet smoothly, into the air. Had it not been for the visual cues of the structure sliding past us, we probably wouldn't have known that we were even moving. Suddenly, though, the tempo changed and it felt as though we were riding up an elevator. Justin and Jeremy squealed in delight and clapped their hands in excitement. Brad grabbed my hand and held it as though he were riding the elevator in the CN Tower.

The ride was over before we knew it and we soon found ourselves continuing to sail leisurely up the canal until it joined the river just south of Trent University. We sailed through the middle of the complex, passing an odd star-shaped building to our left (Brad would later discover that it was the university library) and slipping beneath a huge concrete foot bridge which joined the concrete and glass campuses on either side of the river.

Our journey continued north before going through a regular lock system which raised us to yet another level of the river. The tour craft made a U-turn in a large cove just beyond the lock and we began our return trip, flowing with the current this time. The ride down the liftlock was even more exciting than the ride up and I felt that sensation of going over a hill on a roller coaster or in a swiftly-moving car. The twins squealed and clapped even louder, bouncing up and down in our laps. They were thoroughly disappointed that we couldn't do it again.

By the time we made it back to the dock, it was very late in the afternoon. We found a restaurant near the parking lot where we enjoyed a delicious ‘all-you-can-eat' buffet meal which served a great variety of food. There was something for everyone, and everyone ate their fill. Finally, we loaded ourselves into the vehicles for our return trip to Maple Grove and, with Dad following close behind, we made our way out of the city and on our way home. The twins were sound asleep before the second stop light.

It was a great day that first Sunday in August and it was a great finish to a great weekend. I can't remember when we'd had so much fun as a family, and everyone was exhausted and excited and delighted. My daughter had finally enjoyed the birthday party she had long deserved but had never really received.

We all slept well that Sunday night. Everyone, including myself. I'm not so sure, though, that I would have slept as well as I did had I known what lay ahead of us.

To Be Continued
 
:-)Dear Neil, as I've said for over a year now, this great saga should be published and on open sale. I'm sure a good publisher will help with any corrections, and research. Also, if it is a problem, a nom-de-plume can be assumed. This positive narrative is badly needed by those who are finding their sexuality so hard to handle. I am not aware of any other gay love story that is so beautifully expressed, and with the underlying problems so sensitively handled.
The objections you raise are, admit it, trivial. Please do'nt allow your inertia to give room for someone else reap the rewards you so richly deserve.[-X[-X
 
Great read, Neil. It sounds almost like another cliffhanger. Waiting for the next chapter. Vic
 
Neil, Thank you, another beautiful chapter, a wonderful birthday for Lindsay.
You just couldn't resist the cliffie, could you!!!
Great stuff, more please!!
Harry
 
can't help but love everything about this one, have been enjoying this for some time now and i don't see that changing.

glad Linds got the b-day that she really wanted and that everyone else had a great time that day. it's only a classic if it has a cliffhanger and of course this one does.

:)
 
:-)Dear Neil, as I've said for over a year now, this great saga should be published and on open sale. I'm sure a good publisher will help with any corrections, and research. Also, if it is a problem, a nom-de-plume can be assumed. This positive narrative is badly needed by those who are finding their sexuality so hard to handle. I am not aware of any other gay love story that is so beautifully expressed, and with the underlying problems so sensitively handled.
The objections you raise are, admit it, trivial. Please do'nt allow your inertia to give room for someone else reap the rewards you so richly deserve.[-X[-X

Hey, Neil! :wave:

I was tremendously happy to see You, and Dear Sam (Rest Her Soul!), make another appearance in Your story! (group):hurray:(!w!)

And, You know, perhaps "too" well, that I'm totally agreeing with w-paul! (ww):=D:..|

As always, no matter what ...

Keep smilin'!! :kiss:(*8*)
Chaz ;)
 
WATCHING BRAD
Part 188​

Warren says I'm a ‘control freak'. I don't agree unless you consider someone who is devoted to watching out for his friends as well as taking care of, protecting, and providing for his family a control freak. As a friend, it's what friends do for each other, right? As head of the family, though, I consider it my duty and responsibility to make certain that everything is in order for me to take care of them properly. It would be negligent of me to do anything less than my best for them. To that end, I have always tried to make the best decisions in life that I am capable of making and seeing to it that my decisions come to fruition. Is that being a control freak? I prefer to call it being cautious and prudent.

I suppose it started way back when I was younger and took Warren under my wing, watching out for him and protecting him as best I could. He soon came to depend upon me to keep him safe and it made me feel rather important and useful. I firmly believe that my caring for Warren prepared me for my future role as a husband and father. By the time Lindsay came along, I was well-settled and extremely comfortable in that role and I dedicated myself to taking care of my family.

Mind you, it wasn't always easy early on. There were days when I had to face the bullies who relentlessly teased Warren about his weight, or, years later, about him being gay. Or that day when Bill started following us around the university campus like some obsessed stalker or gay basher. To be totally honest, I was terrified and have no idea how I managed to hold myself together and not piss my pants out of sheer terror. I think it made me a stronger, more determined person though, and it certainly helped to prepare me for dealing with the more adult challenges I would face in life after I graduated.

After all these years, I've had plenty of practice and experience under my belt to handle just about any situation. There have been a few temporary failures, of course, such as the day I walked out of the courtroom without the custody of my daughter or the day I sat back at home feeling helpless and inadequate as I waited for other people to try to find my lost sons. There were others, of course, but I was always successful in the end. Well, almost always. I knew this situation with the new house would be no different. I would deal with it the best way I could and make my decision, and then I would make happen what I felt needed to happen.

Bless his heart, Warren is my best, dearest, and most cherished friend, but there are times when I'm convinced he puts his mouth in overdrive before he puts his brain in gear. On Saturday afternoon during Lindsay's birthday party, we were all talking about the new house when Warren asked me to accompany him to the bathroom. It wasn't an unusual request since Bill had insisted that Warren be accompanied everywhere he went.

Warren peed first and then, as he was washing his hands, I took my turn. As I was washing my own hand, Warren leaned backward against the vanity top beside me and asked, "Why are you being so stubborn, Teddy? Why are you objecting so much about the big house? I think it's perfect! Everyone does. And the kids just love it. They've even picked out their bedrooms, Teddy. You're the only one who doesn't think want it. You keep going on about the mortgage, but I can see in Bill's eyes that he's not buying that excuse. Surely the mortgage payments wouldn't be much more than they would be if you built one of the smaller houses. Sure, the big house has two floors instead of one, but it's not that much bigger, is it? Space wise, I mean."

"It's big enough to put it out of my budget, Warren," I insisted.

"But your father's going to do all the plumbing and you're going to have help coming out of your asshole to keep costs down. Hell. Even I can come down and watch the kids for you even if I can't pick up a hammer. That David looks like he can do as much as everyone else, and that copper. . . well, he's just too damned pretty to get splinters, but I'd be happy to pull them out for him. And Bradley keeps talking about ‘sweat equity', whatever the hell that is. There must be some way you can afford it."

"Look, Warren," I said sternly. "Just drop it, okay? Come on. Let's get back out to the party."

But Warren didn't move when I held out my arm for him to take. He just stood there, looking into my eyes and it made me feel extremely uncomfortable. Warren was one of the few people who could do that. It was like he was crawling right into my head and reading my mind. "Holy, shit, Teddy! You're pissed off because you didn't find the house yourself, aren't you? You're pissed because the kids found the house and everyone else made the decision to build it instead of you."

I knew he was serious. He hadn't spoken a single word of French. I tried to laugh it off. "Oh, come off it, Warren. Do you seriously believe that?"

"Yes, Ted," he replied firmly. "I do."

"Well, it's not true," I insisted. "You've seen the pictures. It's more house than we need and I've done the math. I can't afford the mortgage payments."

Warren stood there, resting his butt on the vanity and continuing to stare into my eyes. After a great number of rather uncomfortable moments, he finally shook his head back and forth and said, "I don't believe you, Ted de Villiers. I know you. There's more to this than you're admitting to. There's something going on in that head of yours that you're hiding from everyone. I don't know what it is, but you're up to something, Ted, and I don't like it. No. I don't like it at all."

I shrugged my shoulders, trying to show my indifference. "Believe what you want, Warren. It's the truth. I don't see any way we can afford that house. I've made my decision. End of discussion."

Warren knew better than to pursue it any further. He pushed himself away from the vanity and stood erect, grabbing my arm firmly in his hand. I led him back outside. "I hope you know what you're doing, Ted," Warren said softly and finally. Nothing more was said about it after that.

Still, early Monday morning, I phoned my accountant slash financial advisor and asked him to gather the latest mortgage interest rates for me. "I should have some numbers for you in tomorrow morning," I told him. "We're meeting the contractor tonight and he's supposed to have some estimates for us." He promised that he would do so and would do the calculations as soon as I phoned him in the morning.

I did make a decision that evening, though. I decided that Grant would build the house that I decided to build, and I didn't base that entirely on John Hayes' recommendation. Grant was an extremely competent, experienced, and knowledgeable man, and he was incredibly well organised. I got the feeling that he could easily handle any situation which came up on the job site and that he would make the best use of my money in order to build our new home. He was a powerful, imposing figure, and just his demeanour and presence demanded respect, but he was also very friendly in an unexpected sort of way, and well-spoken and even-tempered. Despite his size, I didn't find him the least bit intimidating. He gave me the impression that he could get people to do what needed to be done, and he would get it done when he said it would be done.

In essence, I suppose, I felt comfortable with him. I liked him and trusted him immensely.

It had been Dad's idea to wine and dine Grant and his wife on Monday night, so I had made plans with them to meet at a popular and rather posh local restaurant at seven. Brad and I got the twins bathed and dressed for bed earlier than usual, but they didn't mind. They wanted to go with us, of course, but they understood when we told them that they couldn't. As long as they got their bedtime snuggles from us, they were happy, even if they got them an hour and a half before they went to bed.

Brad and I arrived at the restaurant ten minutes early and were sitting there, sipping our coffees, when Grant and his wife arrived promptly on the stroke of seven. The Maître De escorted them to our table and Brad and I stood up to greet them as our guests were seated opposite us. When we were all seated, the Maître De distributed our menus before wishing us a pleasant evening and returning to his station at the front of the restaurant. Grant carried what I recognised as the cardboard tube containing the floor plans and a large Manilla envelope, the flap of which was secured by a thin red string twined around a cardboard button.

"This is my wife, Grace," Grant said in way of introduction. "Dear? This is Ted. . ."

"Ma'am," I said, extending my hand across the table to shake hers politely in greeting.

"And this is Brad."

Brad, too, shook her hand. "Pleased to meet you," he said, flashing her his chipped-tooth smile.

"And I you," Grace returned. "I believe congratulations are in order?"

"Thank you," both Brad and I said in unison.

"It certainly isn't a very pleasant way to begin a life together, it is?" she asked. "I mean, losing your house and all. Grant told me you were called back from your honeymoon?"

"Yes, we were. I can think of a few things which would have been more fun," I joked, "but, life goes on and so do we. No sense dwelling on what we can't change."

"A fine attitude," Grace added.

We were interrupted by our waiter who poured coffee for Grant, refilled our cups, and said he'd return as quickly as possible with Grace's ordered green tea.

We talked about nothing in particular as we ate our dinners before discussing any business. I was going to order a nice wine or something, but Grace didn't drink alcohol and Grant was taking medication which prohibited it so coffee and tea were adequate substitutes.

"Right, then," Grant began after we'd finished dinner and were letting things settle before ordering dessert. He handed the house plans to me, then opened the Manilla envelope. Three photographs were pulled out of it and laid out on the table in front of us. "First of all, these are three houses I've built. Only this one. . ." (he pointed to the centre photograph) ". . .went over budget and that's because the client changed his mind half-way through and we had to rip down a few walls to add another room and start over again. The other two came in on time and under budget. You can keep those. The addresses are written on the back and there are names with phone numbers you can contact if you'd like to check out my work."

The houses were impressive indeed. John Hayes had not exaggerated Grant's abilities. "I don't think that will be necessary," I said. "John's recommendation is good enough for us."

"Well, then," he said as he pulled more papers out of the envelope. "Right. We can talk about that later if you decide you want me to build your house. Now, these estimates here are based on prices from my usual suppliers. I know them and they know me. I can get you some good deals if you contract with them, but I can work with whoever you want me to work with. Now, I. . ."

"Excuse me," I said. "Sorry. What do you mean, ‘contract with them'?"

"Oh, sure," Grant explained. "You can buy your supplies anywhere if you want to source out the cheapest ones available, but let's say you contract with Home Hardware Building Centre to buy all your lumber and building supplies there - shingles, paint, drywall, plywood, flooring, nails, tape, whatever - they'll give you better deals on prices than you would if you bought different stuff on sale in a bunch of other places. See? Makes it easier to keep track of deliveries, too."

I nodded. "Makes sense."

"Anything else?"

I shook my head ‘no'. "Not right now, thanks."

"Right," Grant continued as he handed me the papers. They were neatly organized and printed out on computer paper. "The wife did those for me. She's a wiz at the computer. She uses all her fingers." He smiled and winked at me and gave me one of his surprising little titters before turning serious again. "Now, I haven't included any finishes like paint or anything like that. No floors, no windows or anything. No bathrooms, kitchen cabinets. . . no fireplaces. Nothing like that. All that stuff is pretty client-specific and the costs can vary enormously depending on your taste and what you want and need, but I've included estimated prices where I can in the low, medium, and high end ranges just to give you an idea of what things are going to cost depending on which way you go. And then I added twelve and a half percent."

"Twelve and a half?" I asked.

"Took me a lot of years to come up with that number. Early on, I soon discovered that, if I went over budget, it was by about eleven percent. Now I stick on that extra one and a half so when I come in under budget, people look at me as something of a miracle worker."

Grant pause a moment, then smiled and winked at me before releasing one of his giggles which would have set the twins to chuckling had they been there. "Learnt that lesson from Scotty on Star Trek. Course, I don't usually tell my clients about that. Wouldn't be much of a miracle worker if I went around bragging about how I cheat!" Grant fell into a set of chuckles and giggles that set all of us laughing with him. It was very easy to like the man. "Anyway," he continued as the laughter died away, "these lists should give you enough of an idea what it should cost to build your house. ‘Course, when you make your final decision and I know what you want, I can give you more detailed lists. If you decide to hire me." He giggled his delightful laugh once more.

I heard him and nodded, but my attention was mostly on the price lists I held in my hands. I could see Brad out of the corner of my eye leaning toward me so he could look at them as well. I was grateful that he was more or less in the dark as far as our finances were concerned.

The figures jumped out at me, as if to taunt me - to lure me into their trap. This I hadn't anticipated and it would take some serious rethinking. I couldn't imagine how I had miscalculated. My mind raced as I sought solutions.

"Could you get us in the house by Christmas?" I asked without looking up from the papers.

"Oh, well now," Grant replied before heaving an enormous sigh, "that's the sixty-four thousand dollar question, isn't it? Five months? That's a lot of house to build in five months, Ted."

"I want my family to have a home for Christmas. Can you do it?"

"I could try," Grant said sombrely, "but it would take a lot of hard work and it would probably cost you more in the long run. Even then, I couldn't make any guarantees."

I nodded my head, as if what he'd said hadn't been expected. "Okay," I said softly. "What about the other houses? I think the brick front is the best for us. Could you build that one by Christmas?"

"Now, that one I'd be willing to lay money on."

Again I nodded.

Brad put his hand on mine, trying to capture my attention. "It's only for one Christmas, Pops," he said. "I'm sure the kids would understand, and I don't think they care where they are as long as they're with us."

"It's not what I want, Brad," I told him, keeping my eyes on the price lists so I could avoid looking into his sparkling green eyes. "This will be our first Christmas together as a family. I want it to be in our own home."

"But we. . ."

"Look. Let's talk about this later, okay Brad?" I said, cutting him short. "I have a few more questions I want to ask Grant before I forget them."

Thankfully, Brad let it drop for the moment but he picked it up again as we drove back to Maple Grove after bidding our farewells to Grant and Grace with the promise of talking contracts when a final decision on the house had been made.

The setting sun glistened in my rearview mirror as I drove toward Maple Grove causing me to squint occasionally when the bright rays hit the mirror just right and reflected directly into my eyes.

"So," Brad said, "where do we go from here?"

"There really isn't anywhere we can go until I talk to my accountant tomorrow and get some numbers. I'll fax him the estimates first thing in the morning and let him do the calculations. We should have a pretty good idea if we can afford the big house by tomorrow night."

"I hope so," Brad said. "Jeremy's so excited about his new bedroom."

"I hope so, too, Brad," I replied, hoping I had enough sincerity in my voice. "But I'm not getting my hopes up too high. Things were tight before the fire. They're a lot tighter now and making the wrong decision could be disastrous. Remember, my family of two more than doubled in only four months. "

"Maybe our parents can help us out until I graduate next year," Brad suggested. "I know Mom and Dad would do all they can, and I'm sure your. . ."

"We can't become dependent on them, Brad."

Game.

"We're already dependent on them now, Ted. We're living with your parents."

"Well, I don't want to become even more dependent on them," I said, my growing annoyance slipping into my voice, "and I especially don't want to be in debt to them."

Set.

"I could get a part-time job for now," Brad said. "Nights and evenings to help out with the money."

"Please, Brad! I've got a lot to think about! I don't want to talk about it again until I get the numbers from my accountant, okay? We can't make a decision until then." I said that knowing very well that I had already made my own decision, and I had made it quite some time ago.

Brad fell silent and, thankfully, remained that way the rest of the drive home.

Match point was mine.

Or so I thought.

Little did I realise that I had already faulted at the net and that a rematch would begin tomorrow. . . and that I would find in Brad an opponent worthy of Wimbledon.

To Be Continued
 
Uh-Oh!! Ted has had a surprise!! Did the costs come lower than he had worked out??
Did he work out higher costings to justify NOT building the bigger house??
Warren knows Ted soooo well, I think he is right, Ted has set against this house for another reason & is trying to justify it!!
Lets hope Brad can sort him out! Watch out for sparks flying!!
Great chapter Neil, Thank you
Harry
 
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