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Watching Brad

Do you perhaps have any unpublished works that could be revisited, dusted down, and placed on your altar for your fans adoration?

Believe it or not, everything I have written has now been posted here. (Except for a bunch of crappy poetry I did decades ago. Oh, and my journals as well. They're not for public consumption ;) )
 
Thanks again Neil for a very well told story. I wished I had the imagination that you possess. After following this story thus far, I have not been disappointed. It's been a pleasure to read your stories, in particular, this one. I know you do this for free and it is greatly appreciated.

I want to wish you a very Happy and prosperous New Year.

Ken
 
WATCHING BRAD
Part 138​

Wednesday morning broke bright and sunny and with a little boy straddling my stomach and smiling down at me. When my eyes opened and found his, the smile turned into a wide grin.

"Hi, Daddy," he said.

His cheerful face brought a smile to my own. "Good morning, Justin," I replied.

"Do you know what?" he asked.

"What?" I said.

"Hold out your hands."

I did as he instructed and held out my arms to him.

"No, Daddy," he said as he pushed my hands apart and then spread his own. "This way!"

Again, I did as he asked.

When my arms were spread as wide as I could get them, he said with his sparkling smile, "That's how much I love you." He fell to my chest and grabbed my sides. There was nothing else I could do except to wrap my arms around him and hug him close.

"I love you, too, Justin."

And my day just got better after that.

Jeremy's foot had stopped bleeding. The large wound had sealed itself, and there didn't look to be any infection. I would watch it closely, of course, but, for now, there was no need for a return trip to the hospital for further treatment.

Brad stayed home again to help Terry with the twins while I went to work. Justin didn't want me to go, but I told him that I had to, but I'd come home to have lunch with them. My voice was still rather hoarse, but at least it didn't hurt to talk anymore. The staff was ecstatic to hear that the boys didn't appear to be suffering any ill effects from their ordeal except, perhaps, for their cuts and scrapes. JW was surprised to see me show up for work but I honestly think he was happy to see me. They had been stumped on a problem with one of the programs yesterday and spent the entire day trying to solve it themselves - without success.

I had been working on the problem for about an hour when a wave of cheers and applause caught my attention and I looked up to see a very proud Brad standing there with Justin and Jeremy in his arms. Everyone had abandoned their work stations to greet the brave little boys who, it appeared from my viewpoint, were soaking up the attention like a sponge in Lake Ontario.

I quickly joined them, the staff parting itself like the Red Sea, and Justin was reaching for me. I was surprised to see them but I was even more surprised when Brad leaned forward to give me a kiss right there in front of everyone. That brought a teasing ‘OooOOOooo!" from the crowd.

"They missed you," Brad said with a grin, "and so did I."

I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned my head to see JW standing beside me. "Well," he said to the twins, "you certainly look a lot better than the last time I saw you." He glanced down at their bandaged feet. "Do your feet still hurt?"

Justin nodded and held up his hand, separating his thumb and index finger slightly. "This much," he said.

"Well, pretty soon they won't hurt at all anymore," JW said. "You're brave little boys, that's for sure."

"Thank you for the chocolate," Jeremy said shyly.

"I haven't given you any yet," JW said.

"Jeremy!" I scolded. "You don't need a chocolate bar every time you come here."

"No, Daddy," Justin quickly added. "When we were losted."

"Ah!" JW replied. "You're very welcome." Then he leaned closer and whispered loudly, "But you wait right here and I'll go get you another one." With a wink and a wide grin, he turned on his heels and headed back to his office to gather the treats from his desk drawer.

"I'm sorry, Jeremy," I said. "I shouldn't have scolded you like that."

Jeremy just smiled at me and threw me a kiss, but I leaned in to get one fresh from the source. He dropped his head to Brad's shoulder and hooked his finger over his teeth. Justin wasn't quite as shy. When I looked at him, he was all puckered up for his kiss.

As the staff continued to fawn over the twins, JW returned with a single candy bar for each. He couldn't tell one twin from the other, but he knew them well enough now to know that Justin would be with me, and he knew which twin liked which candy bar.

"Thank you," they said as they received their treats, then each held his bar out to us so Brad and I could open them.

"Okay, folks," JW said to my co-workers, "party's over. Let's get back to work, shall we?" As the crew went back to their stations, JW continued. "Jamie, wait. Get some petty cash from Sally and get these boys something to drink."

"Yes, Sir," Jamie said and waited to find out what drinks the boys wanted.

JW squeezed my shoulder. "Time for me to get back to work, too, Ted. I've got someone ‘on hold'."

"Oh, sorry," I apologized.

JW just laughed. "Don't apologize. It's the wife." With another laugh, he added, "You boys be good, you hear? And Brad, as always. . ." He held out his hand which Brad shook.

Soon we were back in my office. Justin sat in my lap sipping his Sprite and watching curiously as I worked through the programming. Brad and Jeremy sat nearby. Brad sipped his coffee and Jeremy sipped his Cream Soda.

By noon, the problem was solved and we were all back at home eating lunch. I drove Lindsay to school afterward and returned to work for the afternoon leaving Brad to help keep the twins occupied.

The biggest and best surprise that day was being met at the door by Justin when I came home from work later that afternoon. He had the biggest grin on his face and his excited voice shouted, "Look, Daddy! I can walk again!" I grabbed him up in my arms and hugged and kissed him. He'd discovered that he could walk on his tiptoes without much discomfort and pain.

Jeremy hadn't even tried. Brad had been afraid that he would tear open the wound once more. I was happy for that. They, too, met me at the door - Jeremy held securely and happily in Brad's arm - and gave me my ‘welcome home' hugs and kisses as well.

Terry had already gone home, so Brad passed Jeremy to me as he set about making dinner for us. I joined Lindsay in the livingroom to watch television. She paused in her needlework long enough to give me her own greetings and then set about filling me in on all the details of her day at school.

"Two more days of school," she said triumphantly, "then it's ‘buh-bye' to Mrs. Stewart!"

That made me laugh out loud. "I thought you liked Mrs. Stewart."

"I did until she started going all funny."

"What do you mean, Sweetheart?"

Lindsay set her needlework in her lap, turned toward me, her face taking on a very serious look and her voice taking on a rather perturbed tone. "One minute she's all happy and smiles and the next minute she's waving a paper at her face and getting all grouchy and mean and saying it's too hot!"

Ah, the joys of menopause.

"Teachers shouldn't be allowed to do that," she finished with a flourish and went back to her plastic canvas needlework. "They should buy air conditioning."

I didn't want to be the one to tell her it was going to happen to her one day in her future. I was still too worried about getting her through puberty.

* * * * *

Two more surprises awaited me that evening. After Lindsay had had her bath, Brad and I took the twins in for a shower. When we finished and were dressed in our bathrobes, we returned to the livingroom where Lindsay was sitting, waiting.

"A man called Brook phoned, Daddy," she said as she handed me a piece of paper with a phone number written on it. "He wants you to call him tonight."

"Thank you, Sweetheart," I said to her.

"He knew my name, Daddy," she continued. "I said ‘Hello' and he said ‘Hello, is this Lindsay?' and I said ‘Yes'. How did he know my name?"

"That's the man we met in Toronto, Sweetheart. Remember when we went to Centreville?"

"Oh, yeah," she replied. "I remember now. I forgot his name."

I phoned Brook after I'd tended to the twins' feet. Both seemed to be healing nicely although the gash on Jeremy's foot still looked pretty nasty. I shuddered when I remembered the shard of glass the doctor had extracted from his heel and my eyes watered when I recalled Jeremy's cries of agony. But I quickly put it out of my mind and tended my duties. The past was best left there - in the past.

"Hello," Brook said.

"Hi, Brook," I replied. "It's Ted."

"Oh, good. I was hoping your daughter wouldn't forget to give you the message."

"She's good at taking messages," I said as I glanced down at her. Justin shifted in my lap, settling his shoulder beneath my arm and his head against my chest.

"What happened to your voice?" he asked. "Catch a cold?"

"No. Long story. I'll fill you in later, okay?"

"Of course."

"So, what can I do for you?"

"I was wondering if you were up to a bit of company this weekend," Brook said. "I was thinking, since it's the long weekend, I'd come down Friday night so we could go over the final song list for the wedding and I can meet the rest of your family."

"That would be great," I said with a small chuckle, "but we'll be in Toronto. We're going to Warren's Friday night and coming home Saturday."

"Oh." His disappointment wasn't very disguised.

"Look, I have an idea. If you're not doing anything anyway, why don't we pick you up on the way home and you can stay. . ." I paused a moment as I recalled why we were going to Toronto in the first place. "Oh, wait. We're having a. . . B-I-R-T-H-D-A-Y here Saturday afternoon. Ah, what the heck. Come on down anyway."

"Is it for Lindsay or for the twins?" he asked.

"The latter," I replied. "That's why they're coming with us to see Warren."

"As long as I won't be intruding."

"Not at all," I assured him. "We can take you back on Sunday or Monday."

The excitement returned. "That would be great! But I don't expect you to drive me back. I'll just cab it to the GO station and take the train back to Tee-Oh."

"We'll figure something out, Brook," I told him. "Don't worry."

We made the arrangements, such as they were. The times were rather ‘up in the air', but Brook assured me that he would be home all day anyway. All we had to do was to phone him when we left Mississauga and he would be waiting for us in front of his apartment building.

The final surprise of that day came after the kids had gone to bed. We'd managed to talk the twins into sleeping in their own room that night, but only after I told them that they had only to call for us and we'd be there to help them.

Brad and I were sitting on the sofa cuddling with each other and listening to the radio when the telephone rang again. It was Lori Smith.

"Hi, Ted," she said politely. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"No," I told her. "What's up?"

"I have a huge favour to ask," she replied. "I just got off the phone with my uncle. He's coming up from the States next weekend for a few weeks and I was wondering if it would be okay if he tagged along with us to the wedding."

"Will his friend be coming as well?" I asked.

There was a slight pause. "Well, no," she responded quietly, almost sadly. "That's why my uncle is coming up. They aren't together anymore and Uncle David wants to get away from there for awhile. If it's too much of an inconvenience, though. . ."

She left the sentence hanging.

"It's not a problem, Lori," I told her. "He's more than welcome. We've allowed for a few extra people anyway."

"Oh, thank you Ted! He's so anxious to meet you and Brad. Your Brad, that is. He already knows my Brad." She laughed at her own joke and I laughed, too.

"We're anxious to meet him, too, Lori."

"I'll phone him right back then. Thanks again."

Brad and I went to bed after I hung up the phone from Lori and we made slow, passionate love until almost midnight. We went to sleep feeling very happy and very satisfied.

* * * * *

By Friday afternoon, the twins were still totally oblivious to the birthday party. It was doubtful that they had ever had one and I was hoping Lindsay had come up with something memorable. Everyone was sworn to secrecy and no amount of cajoling could squeak out the least little hint as to what we should expect when we came home. Even threatening to cut Terry's wages didn't help, and Lindsay was just as stubborn and silent. She could keep a secret when she wanted to!

Lindsay finished school at noon that day - the last day of June. Whereas June had begun unseasonably cool, it ended unseasonably warm. The heat and humidity had rolled in with a vengeance. If nothing else, it heated the swimming pool nicely.

I came home early from work that day, wanting to get an early start to Toronto. Lindsay was all jitters and excitement as she waved goodbye and headed over to stay with her Grandma Hayes until Mom and Dad arrived. They would be sleeping at our place that night and Brad had already changed the bedding on our bed. Mom and Dad would sleep there. I didn't want them sleeping in the basement and leaving Lindsay upstairs alone.

I changed the twins' bandages for the last time that afternoon. Justin could walk flat-footed by then, and so could Jeremy, but the gash on his right heel, although it was healing well, still bothered him when he put his weight on it, so he walked on his right toes for the most part. Nonetheless, they walked only when necessary and we carried them as much as possible. Still, I packed some small, padded plasters to put on Jeremy's heel for extra cushioning. Beginning Saturday morning, they would start wearing their socks and slippers instead of gauze bandages.

I phoned Warren to tell him we were on our way soon and that I would pick up dinner for us but he told me not to worry. He and Bill would have dinner ready when we got there. By four o'clock, we were packed, loaded in the van, and driving down the highway.

CFMX gives regular traffic reports during rush hour and I used those reports to decide the best way to get to Mississauga. The Four Twenty-Seven was pretty backed up in both directions and the Don Valley northbound was bumper-to-bumper, but the southbound lanes and the Gardiner Expressway were moving well for the most part, so that's the route I chose. As bad as the traffic was going into the city, it was a lot worse coming out, especially on the first real long weekend of the Summer, and, with the weather being as hot as it was, everyone was heading for Cottage Country to the north-east around the Peterborough area.

Still, it was after six o'clock by the time we pulled into the parking lot at Warren's apartment. Brad carried Jeremy and the single suitcase we'd packed and I carried Justin. Bill greeted us at the door and led us into the livingroom where Warren was waiting. He was sitting on the middle cushion of the sofa, grinning widely and patting the cushions on either side for Brad and I to sit down.

"It's so good to see you all again," he grinned as we took seats beside him. "Snuggles! I need snuggles!" He turned to give both Justin and myself hugs and a kiss on the cheek, then did the same for Brad and Jeremy. "You don't know how good it is to see you," he added when he was finished getting his snuggles.

"It's good to see you, too, Warren. You're looking great."

"I'm feeling great, Teddy," he replied. And that's when he noticed the bandages on the boys' feet. His face turned suddenly serious and concerned as he looked at me. "Oh, dear. What happened?"

I shook my head slightly and a quick warning with my eyes told Warren to shut up, but I replied, "They stepped on some broken glass." Then my lips mouthed the word ‘later'.

Warren nodded his understanding. "So, how was the traffic?" he asked, changing the subject.

"I'm glad we weren't going the other way," I told him. "We wouldn't be eating dinner until midnight. Gridlock all the way out of the city."

"Speaking of dinner," Bill said as he stood at the end of the sofa near me. "Brad? Would you mind helping me?"

"Sure," Brad said, rising to his feet. "Can you handle holding Jeremy?" he asked Warren.

"Bien sûr, Bradley!" Warren exclaimed as he held out his arms. "Come to Uncle Warren."

A moment later, Jeremy was sitting in Warren's lap and Brad was on his way to the kitchen with Bill.

"It's hard to believe that it's been less than a year, eh?" Warren said as he cuddled Jeremy in his arms. "I seems like they've been with you forever."

"Seven months," I said softly as I thought back and gave Justin a gentle hug as well. "And you're right, Warren. It does seem like forever. I can't imagine my life without them now."

Warren looked at both twins and asked, "Do you like living there now?"

Both boys nodded their heads vigorously and then Warren and I sat back for fifteen minutes as we listened to them telling all the things they liked about their new home. They stopped only when Brad came in to retrieve Jeremy and to announce that dinner was served.

"Can you help me up, Teddy?" Warren asked as he held up his bent arm.

"Do you need your wheelchair?" I asked.

"No. Just help me to my feet," he replied. "I'll be fine."

I grabbed one arm and Brad grabbed the other and we carefully lifted Warren to his feet. He hooked his arm in mine and I walked him slowly to the diningroom table.

"He can walk by himself, you know," Bill said with a sly grin when we approached.

"Spoil Sport!" Warren exclaimed in mock anger and slid his arm out from mine and walked the rest of the way to his chair, which amounted to about three steps. "How's a man supposed to get any sympathy around here?"

Dinner was delicious. I was quite surprised that Bill was such a good cook. He was like Brad. He could do a lot of things very well.

After we finished eating, Warren and I returned to the livingroom with the twins as Brad helped Bill clean up. It wasn't long before the boys were nodding off in our arms and, minutes later, were sound asleep.

"That happens to me a lot these days, too," Warren said softly to me. "It's going to be a bummer when I get all better and I can't use it as an excuse anymore."

When Bill and Brad joined us, Brad took Jeremy from Warren's arm and sat beside me. Bill sat in a chair opposite us.

"What happened to their feet, Ted," Bill asked softly.

I quickly filled them in on their little adventure.

"Oh, the poor babes, lost and alone in the big, scary world like that," Warren said sadly. "It must have been a nightmare for them."

"They don't seem to want to talk about it," I told them, "and I'm not going to push them."

"Wise," Bill added with a nod.

"I still can't believe they went all that time without been seen by the people who were looking for them," Brad said.

"They've relied on themselves most of their lives, Brad," Bill said. "They trust you and Ted, but they're still learning to trust other people. That may take a very long time."

Brad simply nodded and buried his face into Jeremy's hair.

Our conversation turned to the wedding plans then and we chatted about them until almost ten o'clock when Warren finally announced that he had to go to bed. Brad and I hit the bathroom first with the twins, then headed off to the guestroom after saying our ‘goodnights' to Warren and Bill. It was early for us to be in bed, so we lay there and cuddled as best we could with the twins lying on our chests.

"Two weeks from tomorrow," Brad whispered into the dark. "Two more weeks and we'll be married."

"Goodnight, John Boy," I said with a chuckle.

"Goodnight, Mary Ellen," Brad replied. "I love you."

"I love you, too, John Boy."

Ding Dong Ding.

To Be Continued
 
What's with the Ding Dong at the end?! Made me crave a Little Debby Snack Cake. LOL.

At the end of The Waltons (from which the 'John Boy/Mary Ellen' thing came), the camera would cut to an outside view of the house as everyone said goodnight to each other and then the lights would go out and there was a little 'ding dong ding' melody played to end the show.
 
A beautiful chapter Neil. I also, can't wait for the wedding.
But, a lot can happen between now and then, lol. I know you Neil, lol.
 
WATCHING BRAD
Part 139​

I didn't have to see Warren's face to know that he had tears in his eyes. I just knew. Warren rarely shed tears for himself, but they flowed easily for other people.

He was watching as I removed the twins' bandages for the last time and carefully washed their feet for them. I heard his gasp when I bared Jeremy's feet. A lot of healing had occurred during the last few days, but the gash on Jeremy's heel still looked nasty and painful even though I could now apply the cream without causing my son much discomfort. The glass had ripped into his foot almost half a centimetre and the cut itself was over one centimetre long. Of course, the doctor didn't know how big the jagged shard was until he began extracting it with a tweezer. Only a small corner of it was visible. To this day, I can hear my son's screams and I shudder each time I think of them. No parent ever wants anything to cause his child such grief.

Warren's voice was soft and full of sadness when he spoke. "You should have phoned me, Teddy. I would have been there in a heartbeat."

I turned my head to look at him. Sure enough, the tears were there. "I know, Warren," I told him. "That's precisely why I didn't phone you. Don't worry, though. I was scared enough for both of us."

Nothing more was said about it as I returned to my duties and tended my sons' feet. Of course, when I put the square, padded plaster bandage on Jeremy's heel, Justin needed one on his heel as well.

"It hurts, Daddy," he insisted. Sympathetic pain perhaps? "I need it."

Fortunately, I had anticipated this and brought an entire box of Elastoplast with me. And so, with plasters in place and clean socks pulled over their feet, the boys slid into their slippers and took their first hesitant steps. Justin did well, walking lightly on his toes, but Jeremy still favoured his right heel and settled quickly into a jaunty limp. Still, they were mobile again

"How do they feel?" I asked. "Do they hurt?"

"Not much," Justin said. "Just a little."

"I still hurt, Daddy," Jeremy replied.

I grabbed him up in my arms and hugged him. "I know, my Sonskyn, but it will only hurt for a few more days and then it will be all better. I just want you to be very careful, okay? No running."

"Okay, Daddy."

I kissed his cheek and returned to the sofa. Justin quickly crawled up into my lap as well.

‘No running'. That reminded me that I had to phone the soccer camp to see if I could delay their joining for a week or so until they were healed properly. Camp was to begin on Tuesday following the long weekend. They boys certainly wouldn't be able to run by then.

"Daddy," my son said anxiously. "We're hungry."

"Brad and Uncle Bill are cooking as fast as they can, Justin," I told him. "You have to be patient."

"What's that mean?" Jeremy asked.

"It means you have to wait."

Both sets of lips turned down into little pouts. "We don't like waiting," Justin said.

To my surprise and amusement, Jeremy shouted, "Brad! Cook faster!"

"Keep your pants on!" came Brad's voice from the kitchen.

Jeremy looked at me, confused. "We weren't taking them off!" he shouted back.

Warren and I looked at each other and burst into laughter.

"When I'm better," Warren said through his giggles, "I'm bringing them up here for a month!"

"They're a handful," I warned him.

"There's two of us, and we're bigger," Warren replied and started laughing again.

We were still laughing when Bill finally appeared in the livingroom and told us breakfast was ready. Besides toast and a variety of toppings, coffee for the grown-ups and juice for the boys, there were also the most delicious bacon and cheese omelettes I've ever eaten in my life.

The twins, however, had other thoughts about them. Justin was first, taking a bit of his omelette, but, as soon as he started chewing, he bent over his plate and spit it out again. Jeremy quickly followed suit.

"What's wrong with the eggs?" I asked.

"They're crunchy," Justin replied, scrunching up his face with a classic ‘yuck' expression.

"It's bacon," I told him with a smile.

He looked at Bill. "Bacon?"

Bill smiled back. "Yes, Sir," he said. "It's bacon."

Justin picked up his fork again and, using the fork and his fingers began ripping his eggs apart until he found what he was looking for. He picked up a small chunk of bacon, studied it carefully, then hesitantly placed it in his mouth and chewed carefully. His face brightened and his eyes widened as a happy smile crossed his face. He looked at Bill, said ‘yum', and promptly dug in. "I like crunchy eggs!" he announced.

"Me, too!" Jeremy added.

Which was all well and good. The only cereal Warren and Bill had in the house was Bran, and I didn't relish the thought of having two little boys in the van with their bellies full of bran cereal.

We took our time eating, but finally we were finished and I helped Bill clear the table and load the dishwasher. When we were settled once again at the table, Warren leaned forward on his arms, looked at the twins, and asked, "Are you ready for dessert?"

Both sets of eyes widened in surprise and confusion. "We don't have breakfast dessert at home," Justin told his uncle.

"Well," said Warren, "this is a special breakfast dessert."

Bill stood up and left the kitchen. The twins watched him go and their eyes remained glued to the empty doorway, waiting. They might not understand what ‘patient' meant, but they were certainly being it.

A minute later, Bill came back into the kitchen carrying a small birthday cake with five burning candles on it.

"Happy Birthday to you," he began singing, and the rest of us quickly joined in. "Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday Justin and Jeremy. Happy Birthday to you."

The twins were stunned to silence, watching in fascination as Bill set the cake on the table in front of them. It was a simple, store-bought cake, frosted white with decorative, pale blue piping around the top and bottom. On top in the middle was scripted, "Happy Birthday Justin and Jeremy".

The boys stared at the cake and the burning birthday candles.

"Daddy," Justin said, his soft, small voice full of awe as he pointed at the cake, "that's my name."

"And that's my name," Jeremy added.

"Happy Birthday, my Sonskyns."

They both looked up at me then. Justin was shaking his head back and forth. "We didn't have a birthday cake before."

"Well, you're going to have them from now on," I told them.

Their awe turned quickly to smiles and excitement, their blue eyes sparkling like the sun on freshly-fallen snow. "Can we blow out the candles now?" Jeremy asked.

"You bet," I said. "Ready?"

They nodded eagerly.

"Alright. Take a deep breath."

They turned toward the cake and sucked in a deep breath.

"Now, blow!"

Between the two of them, they managed to blow out all the candles. They knelt back in their chairs laughing and clapping their hands and bouncing up and down on their knees, looking from one face to the other and relishing the attention they were getting.

Brad, of course, was taking pictures of the entire event.

I glanced at Warren. I must say, I don't think I have ever seen him looking as happy and proud as he did at that moment, knowing that he had given them their first-ever birthday cake. I don't think I was ever so happy for him.

* * * * *

I must say, washing down a bacon and cheese omelette with a slice of white birthday cake and a scoop of vanilla ice cream was an experience my stomach will remember for a long time to come. Warren, though, delighted in his thin slice of cake and small scoop of ice cream. Bill had allowed him a sample despite his strict diet. He ate around the frosting, though.

Mom had phoned as I was eating, asking if we could be home by noon. I checked my watch. We had plenty of time. It was too early to phone Brook, though. I'd call him a bit later at ten o'clock.

We finished our breakfast dessert and soon we were all back in the livingroom. At Warren's direction, the twins knelt on the floor in front of the sofa where I sat. Warren sat across from me on the settee. Bill and Brad headed for the bedroom.

"Teddy?" Warren said. "I know you're going to be angry at us, but please, don't be. Promise?"

"Warren, what did you do?" I said warily.

"Promise me?" he repeated.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the twins looking up at me from their vantage point on the floor, but my gaze was locked on Warren. Whatever he did, I had a feeling it was big. But I could also see how important this was to him. He had come so very close to missing it entirely.

My heart softened. "Okay. I promise," I said to him and relief washed over his face.

The twins' attention returned to the bedroom door. Moments later, Brad appeared holding one end of a rather large, birthday-wrapped box and backing his way though the open door. More of the box appeared, and then another box atop the one he was carrying. Still he backed out until, finally, Bill appeared as well. The boxes looked rather heavy. I could see Brad's arm muscles working with the effort of carrying his share.

"What in heck?" I asked as I glanced at Warren.

He simply smiled at me. I could smell his happiness and excitement from where I sat.

I estimated the box to be close to three metres long, but rather narrow and flat. With some very careful maneuvering and precise directions from Bill, he and Brad soon had the boxes situated between the sofas and in front of the boys before gently setting them on the floor. Bill even grunted slightly from the effort and Brad looked decidedly relieved when the package was safely on the carpeted floor. Brad grabbed the camera and moved to kneel on the floor on the other side of the box while Bill took his place beside his husband. I slid off the sofa to kneel beside the boys.

The twins had followed every step and were now surveying the neatly-wrapped birthday gifts in front of them while I tried to imagine how Warren and Bill had managed to wrap them.

Justin looked up at his uncles, his face once again filled with awe. "Is this for us?"

"Yes, it is," Warren said sweetly. "Happy Birthday, my little Munchkins." I swear. The look of joy on his face almost made me cry.

"Open the one with the balloons on it first," Bill said.

The twins rocked up onto their knees and crawled forward as they stared at the large, square box with the balloon wrapping paper on it, but only for a moment. Their eager little hands ripped away the paper revealing a baseball set which would ‘grow' with the boys. They could hit the ball from a tee and, with the flip of a switch, it would turn into an automatic pitching machine with three skill levels as they grew more adept at hitting the ball.

"Baseball," they shouted happily, twisting around to look at me. "Daddy, look! Baseball!"

"I see that," I said, grinning.

As we examined the gift, I heard Bill say, "Here, Brad, give that to me. You go join the others." Moments later, Brad was kneeling on the floor beside Jeremy and Bill was taking the photos.

"Will you teach us to play, Brad?" Jeremy asked excitedly.

"Sure will," Brad replied.

"What's in the big one?" Justin asked.

"Open it and find out," Warren told him.

I lifted the baseball machine from the larger box and set it aside. Again, the boys surveyed the long box in front of them. I glanced up at Warren and Bill, but their attention was on the twins. I think they were as excited as the boys.

Once again, eager hands began ripping away the paper. Beneath the wrapping, a large label with a photo of the contents unveiled itself. The twins stopped ripping at the paper to stare at the photo for a moment, and then their excitement burst free anew.

"Swings!" they shouted in tandem.

It was, indeed, a swing set with blue and white tubular steel support legs and cross beam, two swings with blue plastic seats and white metal plastic-coated chains, and a two-seat glider with white swing arms and blue plastic seats and foot rests.

The twins wanted to open the swings, but I told them to wait until we got home. They could open the baseball set instead. Brad helped them. Batteries were needed for the pitching machine. Still, it was an outdoor game, so setting it up in the apartment was out of the question. They were happy enough to look at it though, and listened with keen ears as Brad explained how it worked.

"You really shouldn't have, Warren," I said to my friend, "but thanks."

"It's not the set I wanted to get. Bill talked me down."

"It's a good set, though," Bill added. "It should support you and Brad, too."

"I'm sure everyone will love it," I told them. "Lindsay enjoys the swing." I looked back at the box. "Now, how do I get it home?"

Bill supplied the answer. "We thought you might be able to tie it to the bicycle rack on the roof of your van. I bought some nylon rope as well, just in case. If you're still concerned about it, we'll have it shipped to your place, but I think we should try the roof rack first."

"Sounds good," I said.

In the end, the box containing the swing set fit well on the rack and was easily and securely tied down. It was overcast and the weather threatened rain. It was Warren's idea to cover the box with green garbage bags. Bill and Brad did all the work. I carried the twins. They simply had to watch, perhaps to make certain the swing set was, indeed, going home with us.

At ten-thirty, I phoned Brook and told him we were on our way. He was ready and would be waiting for us.

"Did you pack a swimsuit? We have a small pool," I told him. "We'll probably be in it this weekend if this heat keeps up the way it is."

"I'll pack one," Brook said. "See you soon."

Warren walked to the door of his apartment to see us off, his arm linked in Bill's. He could walk short distances, but standing was very tiring for him and he needed support. He knew his limits and stuck to them, though, and promised to take special care so he would be ready for the wedding.

"I'll need your arm," he told me as he kissed me goodbye, "but I'll be standing beside you when it counts."

With Justin in one arm, I gave Warren a single-armed hug with the other. "Just being there with me will be enough, Warren. Don't push yourself."

"He won't," Bill assured me. "Trust me."

The twins gave more than their share of hugs and kisses to their uncles, thanking them over and over again for the cake (the remainder of which Bill sent home with us) and the baseball and swing sets.

Warren and Bill watched and waved at us from the doorway until the elevator doors closed. Their last vision of us was the twins waving back and blowing kisses at them.

* * * * *

As promised, Brook was waiting for us outside his apartment, a large shoulder bag on the ground beside him and an umbrella over his head. It was hot and humid, but the slight overcast had turned into a bit of a drizzling rain. Nothing that would get you wet in a hurry, but a drizzle nonetheless. The forecast called for scattered showers all day long.

As he opened the side door and slid his shoulder bag toward the back, I turned around in my seat.

"Well, hello there," he smiled to the twins. "You must be Jeremy and Justin. Which one of you is Jeremy?"

Jeremy, who sat closest to him, held up his hand. "Then you're Justin," he said to the other. "My name is Brook."

"Hi," the boys said to him, still unsure what this strange man was doing climbing into our van.

"Remember?" I said to them. "We told you Brook was coming for a visit this weekend."

They nodded their heads.

To Brook, I said, "I hope you don't mind sitting at the back."

"Not at all," he replied cheerfully.

When he was seated and buckled in beside the baseball set, I drove off, heading for Bloor and then the Don Valley Parkway. There was one stop I wanted to make on the way, but we would still be home in plenty of time.

By the time we hit the Four-Oh-One, the drizzle slowed to a sprinkle and, by the time we reached the Ajax turnoff, it had stopped entirely and the sun was peeking out through the clouds. I pulled off the freeway and headed for the local Canadian Tire store.

Both Brad and I took a cart and let the boys ride in them as Brook followed along beside as we headed for the backyard recreation centre. I had picked up some pool noodles and blow-up water wings for the boys when Brad found something else.

"Look, Ted," he said, holding up a small package of foamy items. "They're sleeves for the noodles. You can make them into a ring. We could cut one of the noodles in half and make a ring for each of the twins."

"Great idea," I told him and he tossed the package into the cart. "How many are in the package?"

"Three."

"Better get another one," I told him. "I'm sure there will be more than three kids in that pool this summer and I don't want them fighting over the rings."

"Are we going to learn how to swim?" Justin asked excitedly.

"As soon as possible," I told him.

Justin looked at Jeremy and those all-too-familiar smiles crossed their faces. I tried to imagine what their lives would be like if I hadn't adopted them and they were still in foster care. I shuddered to think that they might not even be together now and would be living unhappily in separate homes with people who were strangers to them. And it was all because of Warren that I had gone looking for them in the first place.

I grabbed a couple of packages of batteries for the baseball pitching machine, and then we were off once more, heading for home. I knew something was up as soon as I turned onto our block. Colourful helium-filled balloons were tied to almost every tree and hedge and fence along the street and there were cars parked everywhere. I slowed down as I neared the house, and then I came to a dead stop right in the middle of the street.

"What the. . ." I said.

"Are the balloons for us?" Justin asked.

"Are we having a party?" Jeremy asked.

"I don't think it's for me," Brook said with a deep-throated chuckle.

But Brad summed it all up best, though, when he said, "Gee-sus Murphy."

To Be Continued
 
Oy, Neil!!!...I'm getting a little verklempt again!!...Remind me to buy some Kimberly-Clark stock soon (Kimberly-Clark is the company or corporation that makes Kleenex tissues...LOL!!)

Anyway, beautiful well-written chapter as usual...Warren and Bill are wonderful, caring friends and Ted and Brad are so lucky that they're in their lives.

Keep more chapters coming, but don't wear yourself out writing them. BTW, are you over the flu yet? Are you feeling a lot better? I've been praying for you and your quick, speedy and complete recovery. Hope you're feeling fit as a fiddle and ready to take on the world!!!
 
Oy, Neil!!!...I'm getting a little verklempt again!!...Remind me to buy some Kimberly-Clark stock soon (Kimberly-Clark is the company or corporation that makes Kleenex tissues...LOL!!)

I highly recommend it.

xchadx123 said:
BTW, are you over the flu yet? Are you feeling a lot better? I've been praying for you and your quick, speedy and complete recovery. Hope you're feeling fit as a fiddle and ready to take on the world!!!

I don't know that I've ever been 'fit as a fiddle', but I'm all over the flu now and quite back to 'normal'.

'Fit as a fiddle'? No. More like 'fit as an untuned piano'. (Trust me. At my age, I make some very strange noises!)
 
Neil, Buddy! (group)

So glad to hear You are feeling better! And though I haven't been "sick", I'm feeling better now, too!! ..|

THANK YOU! for that beautiful chapter!! :=D:

Keep smilin'!! :kiss: (*8*)
Chaz ;)
 
Glad your feeling better now. Man, when I look at your first chapter, you have really come a long way. A lot has happened since then and I have enjoyed every minute of it. I just want to take this time to say thank you very much. :=D:

Ken
 
I needed this chapter. I was down and this gave me a lift. Thank you for this chapter.
 
Neil,
If you really want some strange noises wait another 24 years and you will hear plenty of them. The strangest of them is when you are waking up in the morning and trying to get some wood for the fire that is burning in your memory. Your stories do a lot to lessen the pain from not being able to produce that piece of wood yourself.
Thank you for Brad, Jason and all the other friends you keep putting out for us to enjoy. It seems like I have been living with these characters for all my adult life. You really know how to make them seem alive. I hope God lets me stay alive till you end the stories.
Thanks again for all the entertainment. It makes the years worth living even without the wood.
George
 
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