WATCHING BRAD
Part 206
We began to fall into something of a morning routine over the next few days and, by the weekend, I actually held out some hope that our new living arrangements might, in fact, work out as long as the meteorologists were correct when they predicted a mild winter. I was even becoming accustomed to the abbreviated showers I had to take in the camper knowing that I could indulge myself at any time by taking a nice, long, hot one in the Hayes home if I so wanted.
Both Brad and I had expected and were prepared to come home from work each evening and spend some time cleaning up around our house after the work crews went home, but there was never anything to do. David, apparently, passed his time there by doing it all for us.
Even Grant commented on it. "He's a stubborn little bastard," he told me. "Even when he's not doing anything he still looks busy. I'm surprised he hasn't pitched a tent in the yard so he doesn't have to go home at night. He's determined to get this job."
"Between you and me and the fence post," I said, "what do you think are his chances of getting it?"
"If it were up to me, I'd hire him in a split second," Grant replied as he stood there with his large arms crossed over his chest. I could hear the sincerity in his voice. He sighed deeply. "But it's not up to me."
"Pinter?" I said.
Grant leaned into me a bit and said more quietly, "Ol' Pinter is either a fool or he's blind if he can't see what he could get for his money. David may be tiny, but he's twice the man of any that are working here so far." Grant sighed again and pulled his arms tighter over his chest as he shook his head back and forth. "Nope," he continued, "ol' Pinter ain't blind."
I guess that left only the other option.
The only real stumbling block in our new living arrangements came that Friday evening. Had I been more observant during the week, I might have noticed the change in Lindsay's behaviour before then, but I had been preoccupied and didn't really notice it until I had the benefit of hindsight.
Justin and Jeremy were already in bed over the cab of the Winnebago and were already asleep. It was nearing ten o'clock - Lindsay's new weekend bedtime. I'd come to a decision now that she was getting older and was back in school. I was going to allow her to stay up an extra hour as long as she didn't have to go to school the next morning. It was only temporary for now. We would make it a permanent arrangement in a few weeks if there weren't any problems with it. That Friday was her first extra hour.
We were sitting together on the sofa bed watching television. At least Lindsay and I were watching it. Brad was going through his landscaping lessons. He sat to my left, snuggled up against my side, his laptop in his lap. Lindsay sat to my right, curled up against me as I draped my arm over her shoulders. She seemed unusually fidgety and anxious, though.
"Are you okay, Sweetheart?" I whispered quietly.
She nodded her head against my side but said nothing. Still, her agitation continued to increase.
I hugged her a bit tighter and bent my head down to kiss her hair before asking, "Sweetheart, what's wrong?"
She lifted her head away from me and looked around me toward Brad, then tilted her head up to look at me. I could tell she didn't want Brad to hear, so I bent my head down and turned my head so she could whisper into my ear.
"Do you have to go to the bathroom?" she whispered softly.
"No," I whispered back. "Why?"
"Because I have to go," she replied, her breath barely a breeze across my earlobe.
I looked at her and smiled, keeping my voice low as well. "Go ahead, Sweetheart. Nobody's in there."
Again she tilted her head up to whisper and I obligingly turned my ear to her lips. "I can't. J and J already used it and I can't go when someone's used already."
"Oh," I said, nodding in understanding. That's when the benefit of hindsight kicked in. Thinking back over the past few days, I realised that Lindsay went to the bathroom only after someone had been and flushed the toilet. "That's okay, Sweetheart," I said, not quite in a whisper, but I kept my voice soft nonetheless. "You can flush it first."
"But that's not the rule," she reminded me.
"Well, sometimes rules can be bent a little bit," I smile, "and this is one of those times."
"But Brad will have to empty the tanks more."
At the sound of his name, Brad tore his attention away from his laptop. "Huh?"
"Lindsay doesn't like to use the bathroom when it hasn't been flushed," I explained quickly. "I told her she could flush it first, but she's afraid you'll have to empty the tanks more often."
"I don't mind, Lindsay," Brad assured my daughter. "Want me to go flush it for you?"
"No," she replied meekly. "I can do it." She dropped her feet to the floor and was about to stand up when she looked at Brad again and said, "You sure it's okay?"
Brad just smiled at her. "It's okay, Lindsay. I really don't mind."
Without another word, she was gone, rushing toward the bathroom and relief.
I gave Brad a kiss on the lips. "Thanks," I said.
A huge grin crossed his face and his green eyes seemed to light up with excitement. "Are you kidding? The sooner we fill the tanks, the sooner I get to drive this baby."
I leaned back a bit, cocking my head in mock surprise. "Are you telling me the only reason you married me was so you could drive a Winnebago?" I joked.
"Of course," he said, looking entirely serious about it all. "You don't seriously think I married you for your body, do you?"
"Well, I thought maybe. . ."
"Mind you," he was quick to add, "the little finger on your left hand is pretty sexy, and your belly button is kind of cute." His gaze left me as he looked around the camper, his eyes ending their journey by looking through the doorway beneath the sleeping twins and into the cab. "But gee-sus, Murphy," he continued, "just thinking about driving Winnie. . ."
He said it so dreamily and with such passion, and that's what did me in. I couldn't hold it back any longer. I started to laugh, and I laughed hard. Brad lost it, too. We fell into each others' arms and hugged each other and laughed, and the laughing felt just as good as the hugging.
The twins enjoyed their first movie-going experience that Saturday afternoon. You may recall that I had promised to take Lindsay and Daniel to see the new Johnny Depp pirate movie, but setting up and moving into the Winnebago had put the kibosh on those plans the weekend before. We simply postponed the ‘date' for another week.
Of course, Lindsay didn't like for us to call it a date.
"It's not a date!" she objected. "We're just going to see a movie!"
"Then you won't mind if Brad and I sit between you in the theatre." I peeked at Brad. He was looking at me with a knowing smile curling his lips ever-so-slightly.
"Daddy!"
"You don't have to sit beside each other to watch a movie, do you, Sweetheart?"
"Yes!"
"Why?"
"Because!"
I hate it when my own arguments come back and bite me in the ass. As a parent, I know there is no way to win an argument which has ‘because' as a reason. Lindsay's first date wasn't going to be one.
(But Brad and I knew the truth.)
I hate matinées. Too many noisy, screaming kids jumping up and down in their seats and running up and down the aisles and throwing tubs of popcorn at the screen every time the villain appeared. And they were often accompanied by parents who don't really want to be there and would just turn themselves off and zone themselves out until they are completely oblivious to what's going on around them, at least until the final credits roll.
But, a promise is a promise and, shortly after lunch that afternoon, we were all standing in line at the local Cineplex. Fortunately, despite the multiple theatres, the staggered start times in each theatre and the fact Johnny's movie had already been playing for a number of weeks, the queue was refreshingly short. I'll say one thing, though. I'm rather pleased that I went and was able to be a part of my daughter's first ‘date'.
Daniel was the proper young gentleman and refused my offer of helping him to pay for Lindsay. He assured me that he had his own money, that he had earned it himself doing chores around the house for his mother and father. He and Lindsay stood in line just ahead of us, stepping forward a bit at a time as the queue advanced toward the ticket booth. Brad and I stood behind them with Justin and Jeremy standing right in front of us so we could keep at least one hand on them at all times. I didn't expect they would run off or anything, but just being in physical contact with them out in public like that was extremely reassuring.
The line advanced much more quickly than I thought it would. We had arrived early just to be safe, but, in the end, it hadn't really been necessary. Justin and Jeremy chittered amongst themselves and asked us about one-hundred and fifty million questions (as children are prone to do) as they looked around to see everything that could be seen, and even a few things which couldn't. Lindsay and Daniel spoke to each other in hushed whispers and broke into amused laughter from time to time. They didn't really hold hands, but they leaned against each other so that their arms pressed together. Brad and I were pressed arm-to-arm, too, but we held hands.
Soon enough, we were at the ticket booth. Despite his obvious anxiety and nervousness, Daniel seemed to stand a wee bit taller and his chest stuck out a wee bit further that day when he stood before the ticket kiosk window on his first non-date, with his non-girlfriend at his side, but with his own very real, hard-earned money in his hand. I smiled as I watched Daniel rise up onto his tiptoes. He said proudly into the circle in the plexiglass window as he slid a twenty-dollar bill through the slot, "Two for
Pirates, please." And then he leaned forward and said in a much quieter whisper, but one which I could still hear, "We're still kids, you know."
The young lady smiled politely at him as she pushed his tickets and change back through the slot.
As I had driven to the theatre, Brad and I had noticed that Justin and Jeremy were excited beyond excitement and we decided to make their first-time movie-going experience as much fun for them as we could. By the time our turn came to buy tickets, we had picked up the twins had given each of them a twenty-dollar bill and had told them what to say. Justin and I went first with Jeremy looking on with keen interest from his vantage point in Brad's strong arms. When I gave Justin the ‘go ahead', he held up his empty hand and extended the index and middle fingers extended. He shyly mumbled something which sounded like, "Two, please." Either he was asking for two tickets or he was telling the young lady that he had to ‘go pee'.
The young lady glanced at me again and asked, "
Pirates?" to which I nodded my affirmative response. I had to remind Justin to push the money through the slot, though.
When the tickets and change came back through the slot, Justin took charge of the tickets and I took charge of the money, then we stepped aside for Jeremy to buy the tickets for himself and Brad. Jeremy wasn't quite as courageous as his brother, though, and chickened out. Fortunately, the young lady was one step ahead of him and all Brad had to do was to help Jeremy push the money through the slot and retrieve the tickets and change.
We headed for the candy counter next and bought the obligatory popcorn and soft drinks and loaded up on other various sugar-laden snacks which somehow managed to add one more level of excitement to the movie-watching experience. I bought extra for Lindsay and Daniel. Just in case.
The theatre was only about half-filled. Lindsay and Daniel sat by themselves a few rows ahead of us and Justin and Jeremy sat in their own seats between Brad and me. They spent the first few minutes playing with the seats, standing in front of them and pushing them down with their hands before releasing them and watching them spring back up again and giggling in delight each time. A bag of red licorice sticks soon took their minds off that and they obediently climbed onto their knees in their seats and munched happily on them, chewing and smacking their lips, as they looked around at everything whilst offering us bites from their spiraled candy. Twice they turned around to look over the backs of their seats at the movie-goers behind us. They didn't want to miss anything. They actually gasped when the lights went down and the theatre became as dark as night, and then the huge screen lit up before them and the music came at them from the invisible speakers surrounding them, causing them to gasp once more. I don't think they were expecting that.
We all had fun that afternoon and I actually found myself enjoying the movie despite the fact that I'm a fan of neither pirate movies nor Johnny Depp. It was more than worth the money being able to experience my daughter's first date and my sons' first movie. It was a memory I'm certain will remain with me for a long, long time.
The kids spent Sunday morning with Grandma Hayes baking three kinds of cookies, date squares, Rice Krispie squares, and almost three dozen tiny loaves of banana bread not much bigger than a Coffee Crisp candy bar. There were enough snacks and desserts to put in their lunch boxes for weeks to come.
For the most part, Brad worked on his lessons whilst I did the laundry, but we took a few minutes for a rather leisurely quickie in the empty and silent motor home. We were supposed to be changing our clothes so I could wash them, but Brad said, "Hey. Now that we're naked. . ."
He had a point. A minute or so later, I had a point, too. It was a lot of fun making them go away.
Nathan and Barry dropped over for a visit shortly after lunch. Lindsay stayed behind with her grandparents, but ‘us guys' went over to the park to kick the soccer ball around. On the way to the park, Barry snapped off four small twigs which we stuck into the ground to mark the goal posts. He and Nathan volunteered to guard them. Jeremy and Brad went against Justin and me. Barry was our goaltender. Nathan tended goal for Jeremy and Brad.
We let the twins do most of the kicking. Brad and I just ran back and forth to help them when we were needed. . . like when one of the boys kicked the ball way out of bounds but didn't want to go fetch it. That was a grown-up job, apparently. Being a desk jockey, I wasn't used to running around like that and I was panting for breath within fifteen minutes. I eagerly accepted Barry's offer to spell me. My legs were wobbly as I made my way over to replace him in the goal. More running was out of the question. Standing I could do.
They gave me a chance to catch my breath before the impromptu match started up again. They had only been playing for only about a minute or so when Justin broke away with the ball and came right at me. Barry was yelling at him, as were Jeremy and Brad, and so was I, but Justin wasn't listening. He just kept on coming.
"Justin!" I shouted as I waved my arms at him. "You're going the wrong way!"
Still he ignored us and tore across the grass toward me. The yelling soon turned to laughter from all of us. Whether through skill or luck, Justin let loose with one almighty kick and the ball flew toward me and right through my legs. I wished I'd had the camera so I could have recorded his victory dance. It was precious and left me with stitches in my sides from the laughter. Then, with a grin as wide as Niagara Falls and eyes as big as saucers, Justin jumped in my arms for his victory hug.
"Why did you kick it at me?" I asked when the laughter had died down enough to allow me to speak. "You scored a point for Jeremy and Daddy Brad."
"‘Cause Uncle Nathan won't let me score," came Justin's blunt reply. "He's a gooder goaler than you."
I had to ask.
Barry and I went halvsies on pizza for supper (as voted upon by the kids who outvoted us three to four) and we all sat outside the camper to eat. The children sat cross-legged on a blanket spread out on the grass, but we adults sat in lawn chairs as adults are obliged to do, especially when one of them was afraid he wouldn't be able to get up again if he sat on the ground with his children.
"We're moving," Nathan said suddenly as we munched our pizza.
"What?" Brad said. "When?"
"End of November." The reply came from Barry.
"Wow," I said. "Tough time of the year to move."
"Not really," Nathan grinned. "We're just moving across the hall."
My eyebrows raised in surprise.
"Our neighbours gave their notice last week," Nathan explained. "He's being transferred to Sarnia apparently. The landlord asked us if we wanted it."
"It's really nice," Barry added. "More expensive, but nice."
Nathan ignored him as he continued. "It's really nice and he said I could decorated it any way I wanted, but I'll have to repaint when we move out if I use dark colours."
"I take it it's bigger than the one you're in now?" I asked.
Nathan nodded. "Two good-sized bedrooms, livingroom and office, lots of storage, a separate eat-in kitchen, and the bathroom has an old claw-foot bathtub and a separate shower big enough for both of us."
"We don't know that for sure yet, Nathan," Barry announced with just a hint of unaccustomed embarrassment in his voice. "You're just guessing until we try it."
"Trust me," Nathan added quietly with a lascivious look on his face and undisguised lust in
his, "we'll both fit."
That was one of the very few times I've ever seen Barry blush. For a big, hunky, tough, musclebound cop, it looked damned good on him.
To Be Continued