WATCHING BRAD
Part 208
"Daddy, what's happening?"
I didn't even have to be looking at them to know that it was Jeremy who had asked that question, and it surprised me - not that I had recognised his voice (I had been able to do that for quite some time now) but that it hadn't been Justin who asked the question as I would have expected. Jeremy still relied on his brother for so many things, but it was nice to see that he was finally taking some initiative on his own as he had been doing since Brad took his little hiatus from the family.
A lot of things had happened to the family during that time, the least of which had been my awakening and realisation that Brad loved me enough to leave me when he knew that I had left him no other choice. It had been a difficult and lonely time without Brad - as much for the rest of the family as for myself - but it had been necessary for all concerned. Justin, too, had come to his own realisation that, although Jeremy still depended upon him to be his ‘big brother' who would always watch out for him and take care of him, Jeremy also relied greatly upon his new Daddy Brad, perhaps even more so than he relied upon my eldest son.
It had been a most illuminating time for all of us.
I turned my head to look over my shoulder at him. "We're waiting for the men to finish talking, my Sonskyn," I told him.
"Are they mad at Uncle David?" Justin asked.
"No," I assured them with a gentle smile. "They're just talking."
I had to look down as I talked to them, even more so than usual. They were kneeling on the grass in front of Terry and Bernice, leaning forward with their hands as close to crossing the yellow and black ‘danger' tape as they could possibly get. My smile broadened as I watched Justin glance upward to make sure he was still on the ‘safe' side of the line.
With a slight jerk of my head, I motioned them forward. They reacted as if they had been kneeling on coiled springs. Like a shot, they were scrambling to their feet as they clambered beneath the tape and rushed to my side and took my hands in theirs. David made room for Jeremy to stand between us. Thankfully, David didn't puke on anybody.
We all stood in silence, watching and waiting. Our attention was on Grant and Cameron, but Justin and Jeremy were just as intent on watching the two young men shovelling dirt into the hole. Work fascinated them They could sit and watch someone doing it for hours.
Cam and Grant looked toward the excavation where Tony was busy laying concrete blocks for the basement foundation and Cam shook his head back and forth. Cam talked to Grant for a few minutes more as Grant nodded his head several times and then, with a final nod from both of them, they returned to stand in front of David.
"Okay," Cam said. "How do I know you won't scre. . . er. . ." (He quickly glanced at the boys standing at my side) ". . .‘take off' on me if I sponsor you?"
"You don't, do you? You just have my word for it that I won't."
"Which doesn't mean anything to me right now."
"Precisely," David announced. He sucked in a huge breath as if preparing himself for battle. Then he began to speak. "Look, Mr. Bennett. I'll be honest with you. This isn't going to be a permanent thing. You sponsoring me, I mean. My friend, Brad, Ted's husband, is planning on opening a landscaping business sometime in the future and I plan on working for him when he does. But that may not happen for a year or so and I need a job right now. If the business was operating, I know for a fact that Brad would sponsor me. One way I can stay in Canada now is to get a job, and to do that, I need to find a sponsor. I haven't been in Canada very long, Mr. Bennett, but I know this is where I want to live now. I've met someone who I love very much. Now, we could get married and I would become a Canadian citizen, but that's the lazy way, and that's not the way I work. Besides, Brook would never be sure of my motives for getting married. Was it for love or for wanting to stay in Canada. See what I mean? And, in case it makes any difference in your making a decision about sponsoring me, Brook is a man, and I have every intention of marrying him sometime in the future, but not until I prove to him that I can hold my own here and make my own way, and not until I'm a Canadian citizen. It's my dream but I have to do on my own, and that's why I'm standing here talking to you right now. You're the first step to making my dream come true. And if you have a problem hiring a homosexual, then I'll just look for someone who doesn't to sponsor me."
David always had a penchant for talking, sometimes more than he should, and I feared that he may have just done a bit too much of it that day. Cam stood there for a long while afterward, staring down into David's eyes as if he might find the truth in his words there. Finally, he spoke again.
"Your private life isn't any of my business, David," Cameron said. "Your ability to do the work
is. And let's face it. No offense intended, but you're not a very big guy. Are you really able to. . . ?"
David's right fist flew up between them, his index finger extended and pointed at Cam's chin. It had the desired effect of stopping Cam's words in midstream. "Don't move," he said, and then he hurried away toward the two young men who were shovelling dirt near the other side of the property. Grant and Cam turned on their heels to watch him go.
"What's Uncle David doing, Daddy?" Justin asked almost in a whisper.
"I don't know, Justin," I told him, and I honestly didn't.
As David approached them, the two labourers stopped throwing dirt and stood there, waiting. The one on the left was about my stature and build - tall and thin, but much more muscular as evidenced by the tight-fitting T-shirt. The top of David's head barely reached his shoulder. The other man was a bit shorter than his coworker, but he was built more like Brad. As David talked to him, the tall one looked in our direction and started to laugh. "You're kidding, right?" I heard him ask, but David shook his head back and forth to show that he most certainly wasn't kidding.
The tall youth looked at his friend who merely shrugged one shoulder. They both nodded and slammed the blades of their spades into the dirt and, at David's direction, moved to stand side-by-side facing my friend. David crouched down slightly and bent himself at the waist, placing his head between the two gentlemen and his shoulders at their waists. I knew immediately what he intended to do.
David's arms moved between their legs and wrapped themselves tightly around one thigh each as the two workers bent themselves over David's back. With a mighty heave of his legs and a strained grunt of effort, David pressed himself upright, lifting each of the young men in a modified fireman's carry as they each wrapped an arm around David's back to keep themselves from sliding off his shoulders. Twice he shoved upward with his shoulder and bounced with his legs in order to shift the shorter and stockier young man slightly until he was satisfied with his position. Then, spinning slowly and carefully around, David walked back toward us carrying the two men.
David struggled with the weight as he crossed over the rugged ground between there and where we were standing. His steps were quick but sure and his eyes sought out every spot where he could safely place a foot. His brow was furrowed with the strain and his lips were pressed thin with the effort. All his concentration was on the task at hand. Finally he was once again standing in front of us - particularly in front of the man he was trying to impress the most.
David said nothing. He simply stood there staring up at Cam, his jaws clenched and his temples pulsated with the effort of carrying the weight of the two bodies on his shoulders. He sucked huge breaths of air through his dilating nostrils. His chest heaved with every breath. Sweat had beaded on his brow and began to roll down his cheeks and nose. Even as we watched, one drop gathered on the end of his small nose and hung there, shimmering with every quiver of David's straining body, until it finally dangled in midair before dropping to the earth at his feet. He bounced his knees and heaved his shoulders once more, shifting the taller young man slightly. It soon became apparent to me that he had no intention of setting them down until Cameron Bennett acknowledged his efforts.
Fortunately, it became apparent to Cam as well and he swiftly said, "You've proved your point."
With a nod of acknowledgement, David turned to his left and gently lowered the two young men to their feet on the ground. When they stood up again, the taller of the two was quick to extend his hand to David, who took it into a firm handshake. "Way to go, Man!" he said, a large grin splitting his face. "I really didn't think you could do it."
"Neither did I," said his friend, who also grinned and extended his hand in congratulations. When David took it, the young man smacked David on the shoulder with his free hand. "Good luck, Man."
David grunted his thanks and nodded. As the two youth returned to their work, he turned back to face Cameron Bennett. "I can handle it," he panted.
Cam looked down at him for a long while again, then nodded and, for the first time that afternoon, he smiled briefly. "Yes," he said. "I'm sure you can. And now I believe you when you say you're both determined
and stubborn. That took guts."
"I want this job, Mr. Bennett," David said, still struggling to compose himself and recover from his little demonstration. "I did what I felt I had to do to get it."
"Do you always get what you want?"
"No, Sir, I don't. But if I don't, it's not from the lack of trying."
Again, David held Cam's gaze, showing him that he didn't feel intimidated by the much larger man. I, on the other hand, knew that David was doing everything he could not to puke all over him.
Finally, after an interminably long silence, Cam nodded his head. "Tell you what, David. You get the sponsorship applications or whatever you need from the government and fill them out and drop them off at the office."
David stood there, silent, unmoving, and holding his breath, but the floodgates of his emotions were opened and all of his feelings flooded into his eyes in great waves.
"I can't make any promises," Cameron Bennett continued, "but when you get the papers to me, I promise I'll look them over and take a look at your application, too. No promises, though."
David swallowed hard and audibly. His voice came out in something of a croak. "Would you excuse me a moment, please?" A moment later, David was hurrying toward his car which was parked on the street at the curb. As he walked, he reached into the front pocket of his jeans and pulled out a ring of keys which tinkled and jingled. He quickly found the key he needed and stuck it into the lock at the back of the car and opened the trunk. He reached into the trunk and pulled out a white envelop before slamming the trunk lid shut. I was surprised that he didn't break into an excited run as he came back to us, carrying the envelope securely in one hand, but he managed to limit his pace to a very fast and rather exuberant walk. It was all I could do not to start chuckling at his ill-disguised excitement.
When he was standing in front of his prospective boss once more, he held out the envelope to Cam Bennett, who stared at it for a few moments. I could see it from where I stood and I could see that it was addressed to the Government of Canada, Department of Immigration, in Ottawa. I could also see David's address in Toronto in the upper left-hand corner.
Cam opened the envelope and pulled out a small stack of official-looking papers with the Government of Canada logo printed along the top. Cam scanned the front page and glanced at the second page, and then the next and the next until he reached the last page of the sponsorship application form.
"It's already got my name and the company's name," he said. "How long have you had this filled out?"
"Since I found out I needed a sponsor so I could stay and work in Canada and had the papers sent to me," David replied. "I filled out what I could until I found out from Grant that you were going to be the contractor a few weeks later. I filled in the rest of the information where I could and handed in my résumé to your office."
"And you've been here every day since?"
"Yes, Sir."
Cameron smiled and raised his eyebrows, almost in disbelief, as he returned the papers to the envelope and tucked it under his arm. "Well," he said, somewhat taken aback by David's initiative. "Okay, then. I'll take a look at this and your résumé as soon as I get some free time and try to give you my decision by next weekend. Until then, I don't want to hear about you doing anything around here that could be construed as ‘labour'. Got me?"
"Yes, Sir," David said, "I do." His face now beamed and his eyes now twinkled with excitement despite his efforts to maintain his calm and serious appearance. He managed a relieved grin. "Trust me," he added with a bit of a chuckle in his voice. "I won't."
* * * * *
Late Friday afternoon, when I pulled into the driveway at home, I was surprised to see Terry's car still parked there. My first thought was that I had forgot her paycheque, but I clearly remembered writing it and giving it to her that morning as I always did on Friday morning. David was still there, too, of course, as he always was. I waved at him and he waved back.
I found Terry inside the Winnebago, sitting opposite Brad at the dining table and sipping a cup of black current tea. Brad was drinking coffee and immediately stood up to prepare one for me. The three kids greeted me happily as they always did, giving me my share of hugs and kisses before going back to watching their cartoons on the overhead television screen.
I paused on my way to the table long enough to give Brad a kiss before sliding across the bench seat opposite Terry. The enormous grin on her pretty face and the glint in her eyes told me that there was something more to her presence than a forgotten paycheque.
"Hi," I said. "What's up?"
"I've got a date tonight," she admitted cheerfully. If Terry had made any attempt to conceal her excitement, she failed dismally.
"Oh, really?" I said, my cheerfulness matching her own. "Anyone I know?"
"Tom," she replied, and then, as if to be sure that I knew which Tom she was talking about, she added, "Tom Kent. The twins' teacher."
"Ah," I smiled back at her. "Him. Finally got up the courage to ask him out, did you?"
"No!" she exclaimed happily. "He asked
me! Can you imagine? Today. When I went to pick up Justin and Jeremy at noon. He just came right up to me and asked if I wanted to go out for dinner and drinks with him tonight."
Brad had joined us by then, setting a mug of steaming coffee in front of me and taking his place beside me. "She wants us to go, too," he said.
I sat back in surprise and looked at Brad. "What!??"
"Oh, I don't mean for you to have dinner with us," Terry was quick to say. "I only want you to maybe go to the restaurant. You know, for a drink and maybe just sit there in case I need help or something."
"But Tom knows us, Terry," I told her. "He'd probably invite us to join you."
"That's my point," Terry continued. "At least with the two of you there, too, I'll have something to talk to him about."
I apologised later, but I had to laugh at that moment. "You're joking, right?"
Terry expression changed quickly and drastically. She now looked at us with a fallen and saddened face, rather surprised and disheartened by my reaction.
"She's serious, Pops," Brad said quietly and he put his hand on my forearm and squeezed it lightly.
My attitude quickly changed and I reached out my hand momentarily to place it over Terry's hand in apology. "I'm sorry, Terry," I said. "I didn't mean anything by it."
"That's okay," she returned rather weakly, but I could still see she had been hurt by my reaction.
"Surely you really don't want us intruding on your date," I told her.
"But he's a teacher," she said. "I'm just a nanny. What else will we have to talk about besides his classes and the twins?"
"You never seem to have problems finding things to talk about with us."
"Well, that's different, isn't it? We're not dating."
I smiled at that one. "No, we're not," I said. "But trust me, Terry. You really don't want us there." And then I thought there might be other motives for her request. "Wait. You're not worried about that gaydar thing, are you? You're not concerned for your safety or anything, are you?"
"No," she was swift to reply, "I'm sure he likes women, but he's so handsome and. . ." She stopped there, but I suspected by the twinkle in her eye that she was about to say ‘sexy'. Instead, she finished by saying, ". . . nice. So why would someone like him want to go to dinner with someone like me?"
"Maybe because he likes you?" Brad offered.
"But why? Look at me. I'm nothing special."
I couldn't hold it back any longer and I burst out laughing. "
I'm nothing special, Terry. Compared to me, you're Elizabeth Taylor and Audrey Hepburn and Ingrid Bergman all rolled into one."
"No, I'm not," she answered shyly, dropping her chin to her chest and blushing up a storm.
I reached out once more and placed my hand over hers again, leaving it there this time. I put my most sympathetic smile on my face as I said to her, "Look, Terry. You're one of the kindest, most gentle, most likeable people I know, and you're also very pretty. Tom invited you out for dinner because you're obviously special enough to him. I'm sure, and Brad will back me up here, when Tom looks at you, he finds you just as beautiful and. . . ‘nice'. . . as we do. He asked you out for dinner because he wanted to. Out of all the single mothers and all the nannies who took their children and charges to school last week, he chose
you to ask out for a date. No-one else. You. Just relax and have a good time, okay? You'll do just fine."
And, before any of us could speak another word, the door flew open and David bounded in uninvited, stopping at the top of the entryway steps and gripping the doorknob in a grip which threatened to rip the device right out of the door. This time, he truly
did look like he was going to puke.
To Be Continued