Watching Brad

[harry113]

Beautiful, Neil Thank you!!
What more can I say!!
Hugs
Harry

 

[Trent0n1]

So glad to see things go smoothly this time Neil. Lovely to see Brad get so excited over a box of toys....the small things do count, don't they?

Thanks for another lovely instalment of this fantastic story Neil.

Trent

 

[phoenix72]

glad he made out of that situation safely and saved Lindsey's bouquet as well..as always its more than worth the wait and the boys getting back some of there stuff had to be really special.

 

[operafan]

Whew! Things seem to be back on track for a while! Hope the boys find a great house.

 

[PATMAN]

Neil... I have been reading this story over the past month, and am totally engrossed in it! I was trying to hold back my first post to you until i finally caught up... but i can't!! I am at ch. 146, and i am leaving for Venezuela tonight for a week's vacation. I never ever bring real reding material with me on trips as i am not a big reader at all... i would rather do crosswords and such things, but i am SO into your story that i am actually going to PRINT OUT the remaining chapters and bring them with me!! I just copied and pasted all the remaining chapters into word, and it's 250 pages long, so i will change the margins and font size to try to shrink that... lol.

Anyways I just wanted to tell you how much of a master you are at writing! I am sure i sound like a broken record, though. For me to actually PRINT a out on the computer and bring it with me is pretty huge, lol. That's how powerful your story is.

I do have one critisism, though. And that is that once i return, i expect to be all caught up and then i have to wait for the chapters to be posted to read them (like everyone else) and that makes me sad! hahaha
Seriously though, AMAZING work, and i hope this story goes on for a very long time!!!

 

[jabberjaw]

Again great story. I can't help but be drawn into the story. Thanks again for writing.

 

[gsdx]

Neil... I have been reading this story over the past month, and am totally engrossed in it! I was trying to hold back my first post to you until i finally caught up... but i can't!! I am at ch. 146, and i am leaving for Venezuela tonight for a week's vacation. I never ever bring real reding material with me on trips as i am not a big reader at all... i would rather do crosswords and such things, but i am SO into your story that i am actually going to PRINT OUT the remaining chapters and bring them with me!! I just copied and pasted all the remaining chapters into word, and it's 250 pages long, so i will change the margins and font size to try to shrink that... lol.

Sorry for all the paper and ink you had to use, but it doesn't surprise me. I write on Word Perfect and each chapter averages from 7 to 9 printed pages. That's a lot when I think about it. I've never read War & Peace because it's too bloody long, and now I'm writing it.

Anyway, thanks to you and everyone else for hanging in there and encouraging me to keep going with this story.

Take care, always.
Nei

 

[gsdx]

WATCHING BRAD
Part 177​

Brad and I had been married for a week. We should have still been honeymooning in England. We should have been visiting with my Gran in Nottingham on that day. We should have been making plans to take Brad to see where Robin Hood played around with his Merry Men in Sherwood Forest. We should have been doing a lot of things. We should not have spent the day scavenging around what remained of our house and packing up the few, meagre belongings which had managed to survive the fire. Our honeymoon had ended before it really even began. That Saturday was a rather somber occasion all around, and certainly not the way I had anticipated celebrating our first-week anniversary.

Lindsay stayed in Maple Grove with her grandmother and Terry, cleaning her Christmas village and her rescued ornaments and trying to repair the broken unicorn she had received from her Grandma Hayes. The twins were most insistent that they should be allowed to come with us, but it would have been too inconvenient for us and dangerous for them without someone to watch over them all the time. They didn't like it, but they agreed to remain behind. Only then did I tell them that Terry could bring them into the city and buy lunch for us and we'd have another picnic on the front lawn. I gave Terry some money and instructions to pick up some Kentucky Fried Chicken. I didn't have to be specific. She already knew what to buy and how much to get for everyone.

Brad and I rode in Brad's truck, leaving the van behind for Terry's use at noon. As we approached the truck, Brad held out the keys to me. I almost reached for them instinctively but stopped myself. "It's your truck," I told him.

"I know, Pops," he replied cheerfully. "I just figured you'd want to drive."

"I trust you."

As Brad drove us into the city with Dad following us in his car, I took the opportunity to simply sit back and watch the scenery going by. "Remember the first time I drove your car, Pops?" Brad asked suddenly. "Gee-sus, Murphy, I was scared."

It took me only a moment to remember that day when he'd accompanied me to Connie's apartment to pick up Lindsay for the weekend and we ended up taking her to the hospital instead. "Oh, I remember all too well," I replied. "I still don't know if I was more pissed off at Connie for what she did or scared for Lindsay or happy that you were there with me."

"It sure was an adventure, though," Brad finished. "Now look where we are."

"Yeah," I replied. "Married With Children and homeless."

* * * * *

Nathan and Barry met us at the house, volunteering their day off to help us out. We were all four of us dressed in the yellow coveralls and dust masks. The first thing we did was to get Brad's piano out of the house. Dad and John Hayes supervised as Brad and Barry removed the plywood sheeting from the patio doors and then rolled the upright across the floor toward us. The floor made a lot of scary noises and I held my breath the entire time, but they made it to the door without incident and without joining the kitchen stove which now lay in a crumpled heap in the basement. Together, we lifted the piano over the door sill and out to the back yard and, finally, over the stone wall and to John's tool shed where it would be stored until we could find someone who could restore it for us.

"Don't get your hopes up too high, Bradley," John said solemnly to his son, his hand placed firmly on Brad's right shoulder. "There may be a lot more damage than we can see. A refinisher can make it look good on the outside, but the heat may have messed up the insides beyond repair and we might not be able to fix that."

"I know, Dad," Brad replied. "But even if it doesn't ever work right again, I can maybe make it look like it did before. I think I owe it to Grandma to at least try."

John nodded slowly. "I'm sure your grandmother would understand if you can't, Son."

Brad glanced quickly up to the blue sky above us and whispered softly, "I hope so." Then he turned his attention once more to the task at hand.

With the piano safely ensconced in the tool shed, we headed back inside the house and the bedrooms, leaving Dad and John to chat amongst themselves for awhile before Dad returned home to relax on his day off. Although the fire hadn't reached that end of the house, the smoke and soot had. With the windows all closed for the air conditioning, the smoke and soot got into every single nook and cranny in the house.

We had already determined that we wouldn't even consider trying to save any clothing and, instead, concentrated our efforts on the hard furnishings and non-replaceable items. Even that became a bit of a non-issue, though, when we realized that the outer, visible wood may have been protected by varnish and such, as with the dressers, but the unseen and untreated inside wood had absorbed the smoky smell and we knew immediately that we would probably never get it out. We decided just to toss it all. One thing I didn't back down on, though, was my grandmother's rocking chair. It was the only thing which had survived and I refused to give it up, just as we refused to give up on Brad's piano. The rocking chair, smoky smell notwithstanding, would be Lindsay's one day. I would make certain of that.

And so, we decided that we would keep only those irreplaceable wooden furnishings which had more sentimental value than monetary value.

Brad and Barry began dismantling the beds and dressers and such for disposal. Nathan and I began emptying drawers and closets and filling the heavy, green trash bags with clothing and linens and such. Nathan carted them across the hall to Lindsay's room and chucked them out the window as I stuffed more clothes in other bags. I had already ordered a huge trash dumpster which would be delivered onto our front lawn before noon. We would begin filling it up after lunch.

Following one of his little trips to Lindsay's room, Nathan returned as I was bent over, digging more clothes out of the closet and stuffing them into a bag. He leaned over me, placing his hand on my back, and said in a hushed voice, "Warren and Bill are outside, Ted."

"Warren!?" I said loudly as I stood up and turned to face my friend.

Nathan nodded. "I think you'd better get out there. I don't think Warren's taking this too well."

I could see that Warren was crying when I saw him through Lindsay's bedroom window and I climbed out and down the ladder as he and Bill approached. Warren came at me, tears flowing freely down his face and his arms outstretched for me. I swiftly pulled off my gloves and dropped them to the ground and held up my hands to stop him. "Warren, I'm all dirty and sooty and smoky!"

Warren backed me into the ladder and fell into my arms.

"I don't think he cares, Ted," Bill said huskily.

With my best friend having a firm and unbreakable grasp around me, there was little I could do beyond wrapping my own arms around him and holding on. As warren cried against my chest, I looked up and over his shoulder toward Bill who stood behind Warren and gently massaging his back. "There's some aluminum lawn chairs out back next door," I said softly with a small jerk of my head toward John's house. "Could you bring them around?"

Bill nodded. "I tried to talk him out of coming here today, Ted, but you know how stubborn he is."

It was my turn to nod. Before I could respond, though, Bill turned away to go get the chairs. Warren was still sobbing when Bill returned and set up the folded aluminum chairs on the lawn. The last time I had seen Warren cry that much was when he was seven years old. He arrived home from school one afternoon and found his pet gerbil, Henry, lying dead on the bottom of his wire cage. Warren had come running to my house and he cried in my arms for almost a half hour before he finally calmed down enough that I could take him back to his house. Still, I was the one who had to go into his bedroom alone and take Henry out of the cage wrap him in toilet paper and put him in small box which had once held a Hallmark Christmas ornament that his mother had bought. I had to bury Henry, too, and say a little prayer for him, and then I had to hold Warren all over again as he cried for another half hour.

I pushed myself away from my friend and guided him slowly toward the chairs, my right arm holding him around his waist and my left hand holding his. He sat in the middle chair beside Bill and I sat beside him, still holding his hand and squeezing it as he wiped at the tears on his face with the fingers of his free hand.

"Oh, Teddy," he whimpered as his tear-filled eyes found mine. "I'm so sorry."

"What for?" I asked.

He glanced up at the house. "I know what that house meant to you, and now you've lost everything."

"Not everything," I corrected him. "I thought I had, too, a few days ago, but now I realize that I still have what's most important to me. No-one got hurt. Nothing else really matters."

"But your house. . ." he insisted.

". . . is just a house, Warren. Believe me, I was thinking the same way you're thinking now. I thought I'd lost everything. But Brad talked to me time and again and finally made me understand that we could replace everything except the kids. That's all that really matters in the long run, isn't it? The family?"

Warren nodded slowly and eyes left mine and moved to the house, sadly scanning it from one end to the other. "Still. . ."

"What's left in there, Ted?"

"Not much, Bill," I explained. "The basement was waist deep in water when we got here. That blue tarp covers a huge hole in the roof. The entire diningroom and the boys' bedroom are totally gone. What didn't burn up fell through the floor into the basement. The only thing we got out of the whole basement was my little safety box with all my papers.

"The kitchen isn't safe now. In fact, the stove fell through the floor yesterday afternoon, so it's a total write-off as well. The livingroom is pretty-much a goner, too. What didn't get burnt up was melted from the heat. About the only thing we got out of it was Brad's piano, and we're not even sure we can restore it.

"Lindsay's bedroom and our bedroom were untouched, but everything smells of smoke and I'm told that never goes away. The house was burning for over half an hour before the fire brigade could even get here, so the house was filled with smoke. I don't think we're going to get much out of the bedrooms, either. We haven't looked in the garage yet, but there's not much in there anyway besides our bicycles and some other junk I didn't want hanging around inside the house."

"So, Lindsay lost everything, too?" Warren asked sadly.

"Pretty much."

"Oh, the poor dear," Warren whispered. He still sounded devastated.

"Are you going to move or rebuild, Ted?" Bill asked.

"Rebuild, but not the same footprint."

"Footprint?" Warren asked, his head snapping around to look at me. "Qu'est-ce que c'est ‘footprint'?"

"Floor plan," I told him. "Layout."

"Oh, a whole new house?"

I nodded. "At first, I wanted to rebuild the same house, but then I thought about Brad and I sleeping at one end and Justin and Jeremy sleeping at the other end. If anything happened in the livingroom or kitchen in the middle of the night. . ." I didn't really have to finish the sentence. "We're looking for a house where we can reach all the kids if anything happens again. I want to be able to get to them and they'll know they can get to us. And no more basements as living spaces. Just big enough for a freezer and maybe some storage, but nothing beyond that. We started searching the Internet for house plans last night, actually."

"It's a big lot," Bill commented. "It'll hold a lot of house. Are all the lots this big?"

"Around here, they are," I replied. "They were all laid out decades ago before the city even spread out this far. Go three blocks west, though, and the lots are almost half the size of this one. And they're certainly not as deep as this one, either. It's one of the reason I bought the place. The house was nice, but the land was worth the investment. Nope. I like it here. Brad's loves it here. The kids don't particularly care as long as they're with us. There's good parks and schools and shopping. Nope. We're here to stay."

* * * * *

I took a moment to call Terry and to tell her to upgrade the order a bit so Bill and Warren could join us. I asked if she had enough money to skip by Tim Horton's and pick up a box of TimBits for a dessert treat and I told her I'd give her the money when she got here. She assured me she had enough cash and also that dessert was her treat this time.

I felt a hand on my arm. It was Warren. I glanced at him and knew immediately that he wanted to ask me something. "Hand on a sec, Terry." I lowered my arm slightly. "Yeah?"

"Is Lindsay coming? We'd like to take her shopping."

I raised the phone to my ear again. "Bring Lindsay with you, Terry," I told her. "Her uncles are here and they want to see her and take her shopping."

After that, I removed the coveralls and we sat there talking again as we waited. I told Bill and Warren all about our honeymoon - such as it was - and our adventures in trying to get back home again. I told them all about our night in the gay bars on Compton Street and meeting that fellow from Philadelphia who had a thing for those Mini Coopers, and all about ‘the other Clive Barker' who had given up his seat so Brad could sit beside me during our hastily-arranged flight home.

And, as we talked, more plastic bags came flying out the only open window, landing with a dull, squishy thud on the front lawn.

* * * * *

Terry arrived with the kids and our lunch. Mom and Dad had stayed behind in Maple Grove. Brad got a blanket to spread out on the lawn and some paper plates from his mother. The chicken and the fries and gravy and two kinds of salad and a container of cole slaw were set out for us. Brad and I sat on the blanket with the twins sitting in our laps. Barry, Nathan and Terry joined us. Lindsay sat with her uncles.

The trash dumpster arrived just after we'd settled down to eat and the twins immediately abandoned their food so they could watch the man drop off the large, steel trash bin on our front lawn. Fortunately, he was extremely proficient at his job despite being exceedingly noisy and was finished and gone before the chicken cooled down too much. The twins didn't care much. Men and trucks were fun.

"Expecting some garbage?" Warren joked when we returned to our lunch.

I nodded toward the small mountain of trash bags piled up outside Lindsay's bedroom window.

"Oh, Teddy," Warren moaned.

"Easy, Hon," Bill quietly urged him with a gentle hand on Warren's wrist. "The children."

Warren fell silent and concentrated on his eating lunch instead, but his eyes strayed often to the heap of trash bags.

* * * * *

After lunch, Warren and Bill took Lindsay shopping for some new clothes. I wasn't concerned. Warren had been buying clothes for my daughter since she had been born and seemed to have an innate fashion sense when it came to clothing for little girls. I also knew (as did my daughter) that she wouldn't be able to talk her uncles into buying something they didn't think she should have. They were good that way, and get what she needed - not what she wanted. Warren was also very good at buying her more the personal items of clothing. It always embarrassed me to buy her panties but, for Warren, it was no different to him than buying her a pair of shoes. That reminded me that I must prepare myself for doing more personal shopping for Lindsay than mere panties and bras and a little shudder flew up my spine. It seemed she was growing up way too fast.

At any rate, Terry stayed until they returned. I tried to get her to sit down and relax as I began hauling garbage bags to the dumpster and chucking them in, but she insisted on helping as well, especially when Jeremy and Justin combined forces to drag single bags across the lawn for me. I'm not sure they knew what was in the bags to be thrown away, but it seemed more important to them just to be helping me.

The twins worked hard and energetically until Justin discovered how much fun it was to straddle one of the bags and bounce on it as though he was riding a pony. Jeremy soon joined him on his own little horse. With all the heartache we'd been through that week, it was heart-lifting to hear their screams and giggles of delight and happiness and the clapping of tiny hands. It made me realize suddenly that they didn't need expensive toys to have fun. All they needed a simple plastic garbage bag stuffed with stinky, smelly clothes destined for the city dump.

* * * * *

By day's end, the dumpster was about one-third full. I had originally ordered a smaller size but, when I realized that there would be more stuff going out than we would be keeping, I had upgraded the order to the larger industrial-sized bin. It was difficult for me to be tossing all of those bags at first. It felt as though I was throwing away my life. But, as each bag left my hands, it became easier and easier. I really was away my life, but it was a life that I could not return to, and tossing it away was making room for my new life with Brad and the three children. That made it infinitely less difficult for me and I felt better by it..

What didn't become easier, however, was wondering if I would be able to afford to build that new life.

* * * * *

Warren and Bill declined my invitation to dine with us that evening. Warren was feeling tired, both emotionally and physically. He was, in fact, still recovering from the wedding the week before. Nathan had heard about Lindsay's special barbeque for Daniel. It was, in fact, Lindsay who had told him about it and asked (read: begged) if he would come over to cook the dinner for her. "Daddy makes hockey puck burgers.," she claimed in a stage whisper. Nathan, of course, assured her that he would be there and that he would make the burgers especially tender for her friend.

Lindsay was ecstatic over her new outfits. Warren, of course, had gone a bit overboard with his purchases, but he'd also been very sensible and bought her only those items of clothing that she would really need. He did, however, allow her one indulgence - a new two-piece swimsuit for her first ‘date' with Daniel and a matching pair of goggles so she could swim underwater without her eyes turning all red and bloodshot from the chlorine.

Of course, as soon as the boys saw the goggles, they wanted a pair as well, which meant a quick trip to Zellers before we headed back to Maple Grove.

It was an early evening for everyone that night. We were all pretty tired. But, we had accomplished a lot that day, the least of which was to finally admit to ourselves that what we would ultimately be rescuing from the house would, in all likelihood, fit easily in the bed of Brad's truck.

I tried not to think about that when Brad and I made love that night for the first time since we were in England.

To Be Continued​

 

[thermodynamics]

The cleaning out of the "ruins" is certainly sad. But I was glad that Ted & Brad will rebuild in the same lot. At the end of the previous chapter, I was worried that they'd be moving away. Not having John & Bernice next door for Brad & the kids just didn't seem right.

The reality has set in, and they're now dealing with it. The shock phase has worn off.

I especially like the metaphor of Ted "throwing out his old life", making room for a new one. Nice writing.

 

[harry113]

Thank you Neil. I hope it will get easier for them as things go forward, planning the new house should be fun for them all !
Ted seems worried about the cost of re-building, will the insurance not cover that ?
Wonderful writing, you captured the sombre mood but the boys are enjoying themselves !
Hugs
Harry

 

[walkabout]

Excellent chapter mate
been reading thr story for 2 days and finally caught up! was awesome

 

[upyrkilt469]

Neil, it is good to see Ted beginning to accept the lose of the house and its contents. Reading about the construction of the new one should prove to be very interesting. Vic

 

[BlueD]

Excellent chapter mate
been reading thr story for 2 days and finally caught up! was awesome

Cannot believe you caught up with 177 chapters in 2 days... I'm amazed...


Nice writing Neil, it left me with good feelings and hopes...It would be interesting to see the process of rebuilding the house...

Every chapter looked so long, but somehow, I finished them too fast and wanted more I am so greedy, eh?

 

[phoenix72]

thanks again for taking the time out and pouring your all into this story and latest update as well.

glad i came to my comp instead of rushing back of to work...love it

 

[Nagash]

Great story, but are you planning on ending it soon? Sometimes I think these things just go on for to long.

 

[gsdx]

Great story, but are you planning on ending it soon? Sometimes I think these things just go on for to long.

It's going so much longer than I had originally intended (it was supposed to be a story of only about 10 chapters) only because the readers have wanted it to continue. They don't seem to want it to end.

 

[thermodynamics]

It's going so much longer than I had originally intended (it was supposed to be a story of only about 10 chapters) only because the readers have wanted it to continue. They don't seem to want it to end.

NOOOOOO! Don't end it! Don't even think of ending it!

 

[pmpinla]

NOOOOOO! Don't end it! Don't even think of ending it!

I second Thermodynamics' request. More, please. Among many other interesting threads, the house needs to be rebuilt, Brad needs to finish college and get a career, and there's still the developing story of David and Brook's relationship--they've got to get married

 

[RacerBear]

I most humbly agree with the with the last two posts.

I can't imagine my life without Ted, Brad, the kids and their friends and family. I've come to view them as real people whom I care about very much. We've all been through so much with them that it would be a shame to bring their story to an end. I've laughed and cried, and cried some more along with Ted and Brad.

Keep this story going for as long as you can. I never would have thought when I first found this story that it would go on this long. But, I'm so happy that it has.

Thank you Neil, you are the man!

Scott (RacerBear)

 

[operafan]

I think the story should go on for as long as the characters have a story to tell. It might not be for another 100 chapters. For most writers, don't the characters take over and the author is just the servant?

Let them continue to tell their story.