WATCHING BRAD
Part 195
We were driving into the city to visit Nathan and Barry, mainly to pick up Brad's clothes, but to have lunch with them as well. Brad had phoned them earlier that morning to tell them we were coming and that's when Nathan extended the invitation to us. Except for Brad, this would be the first time any of us had been to visit our friends in their home.
"I need to know, Ted," Brad said softly as we drove past Archie's little general store. "If I hadn't stood up to you and got the job, would you have still been able to pay for the mortgage yourself? You know, after Grant gave you the quotes?"
I glanced at him and quickly turned my attention back to the road ahead, taking a deep breath and releasing it before answering him. "It would have been tight, but I could have done it. I'd miscalculated the estimates and Grant's quote was a lot less than I had expected, but it was too late to back out by then. At least it was too late in my mind. That ‘stubborn' thing, you know."
I quickly gathered my courage for one more confession. ‘In for a penny, in for a pound,' as Mom says. I forged ahead before I chickened out. "Mostly, though, I didn't like you telling me which house we should build."
"But I was only trying to give the kids what they wanted, Ted," Brad said, his voice hushed and low and tinted with surprise, but void of any anger.
"I know, but that isn't the way I saw it. To me, you were making the decision for
both of us."
Brad bobbed his head slightly, enough for me to see that he understood what I didn't have to say, and that seemed to be enough for him.
"It's still not too late to change your mind and go back to school and graduate if you want to, you know," I told him. "I can still afford to build the house on my salary alone."
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Brad shaking his head back and forth now. "Nope. What I'm doing now is what I want to do, Pops. I think it's something I
need to do."
I had given Brad the option and he had declined. Surprisingly, it didn't seem to bother me as much as I thought it might.
"Okay," I said. "Good enough."
Barry met us at the apartment, ushering us inside and closing the door before crouching down to give the three kids their hugs and kisses. Brad was next, and then myself. Perhaps it was my imagination, but my hug seemed to last noticeably longer than the others. Not that I minded, of course. Barry's hugs were always a delight. Besides, he smelt so clean and fresh from the shower and there was a gentle, powdery scent of some sort of body talc about him. It was most invigorating and most enjoyable.
Nathan was conspicuously absent. "He went out awhile ago to do a bit of shopping for lunch," Barry explained when I asked about his partner. He glanced quickly at his wristwatch. "He should have been back by now. I don't know what's ke. . ."
As if on cue, the strains of Freddy Mercury's voice chanting
We Will Rock You sounded from the vicinity of Barry's crotch and he lifted the hem of his T-shirt to reveal a sliver of the bare belly beneath the material, but, more importantly, it revealed a small pouch clipped onto the waistband of his shorts. He ripped open the Velcro zip and retrieved his cell phone. "That's him now." He placed the phone to his ear, and began speaking. "Hi, Nathan. Where are you? Anything wrong?. . . . Yeah, they just got here. . . . Yeah. . . . Where?. . . . Oh, okay. . . . Sure. . . . Okay, see you in a few. Drive carefully, eh? . . . Love you, too, Nathan. Bye." He disconnected the call and shoved the phone back into his pocket. "He's on his way home now. He'll be here in a few minutes," Barry grinned with a slight hint of embarrassment. "Apparently he got sidetracked at a yard sale." He looked at the kids. "Uncle Nathan told me to make sure you guys got something to drink. Who likes Ginger Ale?"
Three happy smiles appeared on three happy faces as two eager hands shot straight up into the air and two identical voices shouted, "I do! I do!" as the twins bounced up and down on their toes. Barry chuckled in delight and said, "Right. Three Ginger Ales coming right up."
"I'll get them," Brad offered, but Barry stopped him.
"You're a guest now, Brad. You guys relax. I'll get them."
"Can I have mine in a glass, please?" Lindsay asked politely.
"You sure can," Barry replied and he left us to pour the drinks with the twins following right on his tail. Lindsay remained with me and Brad.
We could have gone into the livingroom to wait, but we were already there, just as we were already in the kitchen and diningroom. I knew the apartment was small, but it was much smaller than I had imagined it would be - smaller, even, than my first apartment with Connie when we were married. I was surprised that both Nathan and Barry could live there comfortably without one or both of them climbing the walls. It must have been wicked having Brad there as their guest for an entire week.
My eyes quickly scanned the flat as we went to take a seat on the sofa. The kitchenette set in the far corner of the room to the right consisted mostly of a small, Arborite-laminated countertop with a single stainless steel sink set into it. There was room enough on the counter for a coffee maker and toaster and a small work space not much larger than a TV tray. In fact, A microwave oven sat on a TV tray nearby. I counted three vertical, melamine drawers beneath the countertop and four cupboards above. The kitchen looked old and worn, as did the tile-patterned linoleum floor, but Nathan managed to make it look presentable and used many of his kitchen utensils as decorations. The small apartment-sized stove and fridge looked to be right out of the sixties. The diningroom was really an extension of the kitchen and consisted of a flip-up table attached to the wall beneath the sill of one of the two visible windows in the room. The table was big enough to seat two people comfortably and, perhaps, three if really small plates were used. At present, a chair sat at either end for Nathan and Barry. A sugar bowl and salt and pepper shakers sat atop it. Three potted African violets rested on the window sill and a larger pot of philodendrons hung from a bracket attached to the window frame.
To the left of the diningroom, a beach-coloured sofa which must have been Brad's bed for the week sat against the wall opposite the front door and beneath the second window in the room. A small coffee table sat in front of it with another set of salt and pepper shakers and a squeezable bottle of ketchup and a little stack of mail on it. I saw also four remotes. I suspected that was where Nathan and Barry normally took their meals. What appeared to be a dark blue recliner sat perpendicular to the sofa between what I guessed to be the bedroom and bathroom doors. The foot of their bed could be seen through the doorway to the left. The other door to the right, pulled mostly closed, undoubtedly led to the bathroom. An end table which had been painted white and table lamp sat beside the recliner.
A sturdy-looking metal stand sat against the wall opposite the sofa with a television sitting on it. A DVD player was set onto a narrow shelf just beneath and, in a larger space below sat a CD player which was currently playing ABBA's
Chiquitita. Wall shelves above the television held their collection of CDs and DVDs. A scattering of simple artwork and knickknacks and photos decorated the otherwise drab contractor's beige walls. Matching beige wall-to-wall carpet covered the floor of the livingroom area and delineated it from the kitchenette.
The place was small, but exceedingly clean and tidy. With no overpowering scent of cleaners lingering, I suspected that Nathan hadn't had to do a full cleaning. I had the feeling that this was the way it always was - small, but very presentable and comfortable.
"Nathan likes to refer to it ‘old-country bijou'," Barry said, as if reading my mind. He handed Lindsay her drink. "It's small, but it's plenty big enough for the two of us. Nathan doesn't really like it, but we were rushed to find a place when we moved here and we had to take what we could get. I don't mind it, really. I don't need big. Anyway, make yourselves at home and I'll get your coffees."
Justin and Jeremy slowly strolled in, carefully balancing their drinks, still in a pull-tab can, in both hands. Colourful, clear plastic straws all twisted into silly shapes were stuck into the hole on top. They handed their drinks to us and climbed up into our laps as usual before taking their pops back into their possession. Justin spied the remotes. "Uncle Barry, can we watch cartoons?"
"Sure can," Barry replied over his shoulder. "Brad? Do you mind?"
Brad grabbed up two of the remotes, using one to turn off the CD player and the other to turn on the television and to switch channels to the cartoon network. As he set the remotes back on the table, I looked more carefully at the fourth remote. It had four buttons. One for on and off and two others with up and down arrows. A quick glance around the apartment revealed nothing other than the television and the CD and DVD players which might require a remote. I whispered, "What's that extra remote for?"
"I don't know," Brad whispered back with a small shrug of his shoulders. "I never asked them and they never told me. I tried it once, but nothing happened that I could see."
We watched cartoons with the kids for a minute or so until Barry arrived with steaming mugs of coffee for us, then went back to get his own mug. When he rejoined us, he sat in the recliner to our right, setting his coffee mug on a coaster on the end table beside him and propping his right foot on his left knee. He was bare-footed and wore a plain, tight white T-shirt which hugged his chest and shoulders and clearly displayed the two mini-peaks of his nipples perched proudly on the rounded mounds of his pecs. He also wore a not-quite-as-tight pair of cut-off shorts. Still, it didn't hurt my eyes to look at him.
"Must have been awfully cozy with Brad here, eh?" I commented off-handedly.
Barry passed it off with a quick wave of his hand. "Nah. There's always room for friends." He glanced around the room with surprising sentimentality. "Actually, Nathan and I've been talking. What with you guys asking us to be godparents, we want a bigger place with at least two bedrooms." He looked at the twins and smiled, then looked at us again. "You know. . . in case we have overnight visitors."
"Apartment or house?" I asked.
"Oh, apartment for now. We want to be sure my job's secure here before we settle permanently. And we'd rather be married before we get into the mortgage game."
At that moment, the door opened and Nathan stepped inside laden with a number of plastic grocery bags which appeared to be full to bursting. "Lucy!" he grinned cheerfully. "I'm home!"
As Barry rose to his feet to go help Nathan, Justin twisted around and asked me, "Who's Lucy?"
"Nobody," I told him. "It's just a joke."
"Oh." And then, as if that was supposed to make it funny, he started to laugh. Jeremy quickly joined in.
Barry soon reached Nathan and began relieving him of his packages whilst leaning in to get his kiss. Following the quick smooch, Nathan said, "There's more in the car. Would you mind? Some of it's pretty heavy."
"I thought you went out for a loaf of bread!"
"I did," Nathan told him, gave him another quick kiss, then came over to greet us. He gave Lindsay a quick hug and kiss, then stepped between Brad and me and bend down to hug the boys. "Brad," he said when he was finished, "would you be a sweetie and help Barry with the packages? It was a big yard sale." He handed Brad his car keys. "There's some in the trunk, too."
Without waiting for an answer, he reached out and lifted Jeremy from Brad's lap. "Come on, Jeremy," he said cheerfully. "You stay with me. Your Dad is going to get you a surprise, okay?"
Jeremy looked reluctant, but Brad assured him he'd be right back, then hurried to help Barry with the rest of the packages. Nathan took Brad's place on the sofa beside me, holding Jeremy in his lap. He looked at me and his anxious eyes asked a question which his voice didn't have to ask.
I smiled my response and nodded my head once.
Nathan's eyes relaxed and his smile returned. "Help me with lunch later and we'll talk, okay?"
"Sure," I told him.
The twins sipped their pop, watching the amber liquid flowing up through each other's straw, following the twisty, swirly path, and they started laughing even before the pop reached their mouth. The Ginger Ale flowed back down again and into the tin. It took them three more attempts before they managed to control their laughter long enough to taste their Ginger Ale.
We sat quietly, enjoying watching the twins enjoying watching their pop climbing up their silly straws, until Barry and Brad returned. Brad struggled to maneuver his load of bags - a large, green garbage bag in his right hand and several large plastic shopping bags from Zellers and Home Hardware clutched in his left hand - through the door. Barry followed, stepping through the doorway sideways to get the large box inside. His muscles bulged under the weight of it and he was breathing rather heavily from the exertion of having carried the box up a flight of stairs. Another plastic bag was balanced atop the box.
"Here," Nathan said, practically quivering with excitement as he indicated the space between the television and the coffee table. "Wait until you see what I found, Ted. Come on, kids. You too, Lindsay." He rose to his feet, setting Jeremy on the floor and taking his tin of Ginger Ale from him and setting it on the table.
Justin slid out of my lap and put his own pop on the table beside Jeremy's. Lindsay handed me her glass to hold for her.
Brad brought his load of shopping bags and set them on the floor in front of the now neglected television set. Barry hastened to set down the heavy box, his teeth and lips clenching and his face straining with the effort. The box thumped and the floor quivered slightly when Barry pulled his fingers from beneath it and let the box drop into place. He was panting and beads of perspiration dotted his forehead when he stood up.
"Give me a minute," Barry said between gasps, "and we'll go get the other boxes."
"Is the trunk closed?" Nathan asked.
Brad nodded.
"Leave them there, then. You can just move them into the van when you're ready to go home."
"What?" I said in surprise.
"It's all for the kids, Ted," Nathan grinned, sweeping his hand over the packages. "I hit the jackpot this morning. Wait ‘til you see it!" Before I could object, he said with more excitement in his voice than I'd ever heard before, "Come on, kids. Have at it. Lindsay? You might want to start with the box."
Lindsay looked at me as if seeking approval. I glanced quickly at Nathan. The expression on his face was begging me not to spoil the moment. He was greatly relieved when I nodded toward the box and said, "Go ahead, Sweetheart." She reached for the cardboard enfolded flaps of the box. The twins, meanwhile were crouching down and cautiously peering into the collection of bags in front of them, their tiny fingers grasping the plastic and pulling the bags open. Their mouths opened wide with wonder as they inhaled audible gasps of surprise each time they looked into a bag, and each gasp was accompanied by an ‘ooo' or an ‘ahh'.
Watching the kids was like watching them opening their gifts on Christmas morning, and, as I watched Nathan, I had an idea of how my parents must have looked when they watched me opening my
own gifts when I was younger. I also had an idea of how I must look when I watch my own children. His excitement and happiness could actually be felt in the small room. And then I looked over at Brad and saw and felt the same thing.
Lindsay pulled the lids apart revealing, as I had suspected, a box full of books. She pulled out one of the books and I recognised it immediately. "Oh, Uncle Nathan," Lindsay whispered as she caressingly ran her fingers over the cover. Books were treasures to my daughter, and she had before her the crown jewels to a young lady. I had read a number of Nancy Drew stories to Lindsay over the years, and now she had a box full of them.
"They're reprints," Nathan explained to me with undisguised excitement, "but the lady said it's the complete set of the original fifty-six stories. There's the complete set of Hardy Boys, too. Fifty-eight more books, I think. Or maybe the other way around. And there's two other boxes with stories like
Black Beauty and
Treasure Island and
Little Women."
I didn't want to burst his bubble, but I suddenly found myself softly saying, "What did you do, Nathan?"
"Something that I hope," he replied as he turned his attention to me temporarily, "makes everyone in this room happy." With that, he knelt on the floor beside his godsons and began pulling toys and games out of the bags. Barry and Brad joined him and, not to be left out, I knelt on the floor beside Lindsay as she looked through her new collection of books.
* * * * *
The steak-cut fries were in the oven, baking. Nathan hadn't had time to make them by hand as he would have preferred given the short notice of our visit, so he opted for the frozen French Fries for expediency. The tomatoes were sliced and the lettuce was shredded. The bacon was cooked and draining between sheets of paper towels and the deli sliced turkey and chicken lay ready on a plate beside a stack of lightly-toasted bread and a shot glass which held an assortment of wooden toothpicks with one tip decorated with coloured strands of clear plastic.
Behind us, Lindsay was sitting on the sofa reading one of her Nancy Drew books. The boys, namely Brad and Barry, knelt on the floor behind Jeremy and Justin respectively as they noisily pulled and pushed joystick levers and smacked buttons atop the joysticks with their thumbs. Between them, two plastic robots in a square boxing ring tried to knock each other's block off. And, when it happened, there were squeals of laughter and cheers of excitement from all four of ‘the kids'. Then either Justin or Jeremy would smack the robot's head back down with his palm of his hand and the fun would start all over again.
Nathan had already told me about how he'd came across the Rock 'Em Sock 'Em Robots along with all the other toys and games and books and such at the yard sale as we prepared the ingredients for lunch.
"They were an older couple," he had explained. "Empty nesters downsizing their home to a smaller condo. It was more a ‘moving sale' than anything else. The woman was wandering around and telling everyone there to make an offer like people do at yard sales. So, there I am, looking through some DVDs to see if there's anything I might want. Not much left by that time, though. Anyway, the husband comes out and says to the woman, ‘That lady who wanted the Nancy Drew books just phoned. She don't want them anymore.' That caught my attention and I start talking to them and they tell me about the collections in the garage. I tell them I'm interested if the price is right. Well, wouldn't you know it, they had the Hardy Boys, too, and two other boxes full of other books. I saw all the toys and games and puzzles and stuff and I couldn't believe it. All those old games and stuff."
My mind was filled suddenly with images of the boxes I'd seen: Battleship, Concentration, Mouse Trap, Clue, Life, Careers. There was even a Super Nintendo game system with over two dozen games. Just to name a few. There was a Mechano set, a Spirograph, Lego blocks, Lincoln Logs. . . The list went on. Toys from a time even before my time.
"I asked them if the were for sale, too, and I tell them about the fire and how the kids lost everything in it, and they even remember reading about the fire in the paper. The man even remembered you being on your honeymoon. He calls out to his wife and tells her and she phones her son and daughter and tells them what's up and they say as long as I'm not a dealer, I can buy anything I want. So I bought it all."
"How much, Nathan?" I had asked.
He just started whistling to himself and returned to preparing lunch. To this day, I don't know how much he paid, and I suspect I never will. I just hope it was worth all the hugs and kisses he got out of it.
So, there we were, ready to assemble the clubhouse sandwiches. They would be a first for the twins. A slice of buttered toast, salad dressing, salt and pepper, lettuce, tomatoes, and bacon. Another slice of buttered toast, more lettuce and tomatoes, turkey and chicken slices, and topped with a final slice of toast. Sliced diagonally into four pieces with each triangle held together by a toothpick. A fine and dandy lunch.
"Brad was miserable, you know," Nathan said almost beneath his breath as we stood side-by-side, rubbing shoulders and building the sandwiches. "He hated being away from you and the kids, but he felt that you'd backed him into a corner and was the only way out that he could see."
"I know," I said. "I really didn't give him much choice, though, did I?"
"He didn't stop, Ted. All the time he was here it was ‘go go go'. He just didn't stop. He wouldn't let himself. What with all the phone calls and looking for a job and searching the Internet for landscaping classes and talking to his parents. . ." Nathan stopped his work and glanced behind us over his shoulder. Brad was still preoccupied playing with the twins and not paying us any attention. He looked at me and leaned forward a bit as if to make our private conversation even more confidential. His whisper became little more than a breath. "He cried, Ted. We could hear him, Barry and I. Every night after we went to bed. And sometimes in the evening he'd go into the bathroom, but we could hear him. He was so terrified of losing you and the kids." Nathan paused to place his hand over mine and squeeze it. "He loves you more than you'll ever know, Ted. If you don't believe
him when he tells you, then believe
me. You'll never find anyone who loves you more than Brad does. Ever."
Behind us, the twins suddenly squealed in exhilaration as one of the robots lost his plastic head. Barry's booming laughter sounded as well. And, above it all, came the happy laughter of the man who had cried himself to sleep because of me.
To Be Continued
They're back together. And they're going to build the big house!
?
Thank you. 
