Sunday Evening

"So you guys are going fishin' tomorrow?" Noreen asks. She called Nick back after the storm died down.

"We'll see, if this stuff stays away."

"Yeah it was pretty crazy, I get freaked out holding a phone with all the lightning."

"Tis the season, yeah, if I had more antennas I'd have to unplug, but I leave my little wire unhooked most of the time anyway."

"So have you been doing much listening?"

"Actually yeah, seems I'd rather find some Morse Code - well, they call it CW, and have that on to chill or play games or whatever."

"What's CW stand for?"

"Continuous Wave -"

"Hmmm."

"Well since it's a single tone, and you just toggle it off an on for the signal."

"Ahh that makes sense, because other sounds are, well, not so continuous."

"Something like that, but yeah it's getting easier to understand folks on there, some of them talk the good part of an hour about whatever, like they used to live close but one moved away. Usually they just give a weather report, brag about the rig and antenna and power, that kinda thing."

"Sounds about right. So are you going to get the license or whatever?"

"Seems it's more of a when than an if at this point."

"Let me know if you ever need any help, to practice, a quiz master or whatever hon."

"You'd bust me to a pulp."

"Only for your own good."

"Well it's mostly multiple choice these days so we'll see, plus the CW test, but I should have that pretty close, just need to practice with Pap's old tapes. So did you guys have fun yesterday?"

"Yeah the bugs weren't too bad and no one lost a finger."

"You sound disappointed."

"Wished someone could have been with me."

"Anyone I should know about?"

"Well...I have a surprise, and we can make it up..."

"Should I be nervous?"

"Maybe...how would you like to see inside the cabin?"

"Um, does that mean something dirty that I can't decipher?"

"Stop it, Dummy I'm serious..."

"So you're ready to share your space?"

"Yes, it was...well...I've been busy..."

"I thought you always kept busy one way or another, you teacher types."

"Nick, I had to make myself clean this place up."

"Oh."

She sighs, "you know I've been on my own for so long, and I didn't know what all to keep, and now this is a bright new season and I got inspired to weed out some things, box up some clothes to donate, stuff like that."

"I hope you didn't box up the blue dress."

Silence.

"Noreen?"

He hears a sniff.

"Sweetheart, I'm sorry-"

"You're fine, I didn't think you remembered that."

"Umm, some things I'll never forget."

"I really miss you right now you piece of shit, you know that?"

"Now that sounds like my girl."

After a moment she pulls it it back together, "Alright, for your information I still have it, that's all you need to know."

"I'm glad."

"So, moving on -"

"Actually -"

She pauses. "Yes, dear?"

"Well, I've been meaning to mention something, not sure when is the right time."

"You're married with kids, I KNEW it."

"C'mon, Baby, it's not like that, just listen -"

"Yeah yeah, tell it too the judge...alright what's on your mind sport?"

"That night...."

She sighs again. "Nick, just say it, I think we're strong enough, whatever it is."

"Well, I....I kinda thought you were a bit older than you are, at first."

Longer pause. "Nick that's fine, and knowing you I find that quite flattering."

"Good."

"Do you wish I were older?"

"Not now, since that would mean we don't have as much time together."

Silence.

He waits.

"Nick, I don't know what to say. And that doesn't happen often."

"Well that's the way it is."

"Okay...wow...hon you just turned me into a pile of mush, the girl inside me, I hope you know, you just took things to a whole new level."

Nick doesn't know what to say.

"Alright, you ok?"

"Yeah, just listening to you."

"You're too good at that, Mister...ok, wow, well, what I was going to say before you dropped two bombs on me-"

"Sorry."

"Nick please don't apologize, as long as you are sincere, which I've come to know that you are honest to a fault."

"Lots of faults."

"Ok stop it, just...ok...hmmm...wow I'll sleep well tonight and with a huge smile, can you come see me soon?"

"Absolutely, Tuesday I'm all yours."

"Get here as early as you want, we can get breakys even, but I'll have a pickup arranged so we can take this stuff to the thrift store, then later on we can...celebrate." He can hear the smile in her voice.

"That works."

"We can grab a movie or bring one, whatever."

"Howbout those tapes I've been making?"

"Ahh SWEEET, forgot about that, perfect."

Major Regression

Friday, July 3, 1992

"Everything looks and smells wonderful, ladies, " Ned offers.

"Well since Nick and Tim did almost nothing to help I believe he means us," Irene directs flatly at Noreen.

"Why thank you, Ned, it's good to feel appreciated, isn't it Irene?"

Nick looks at his brother. "Ever feel like you're underappreciated?"

"Dude, I'm in the Army..."

"Touché."

Noreen just sighs. Several moments pass with just the sound of chewing and scraping forks, weather has been mild so they have windows open and the attic fan is doing its magic.

"So do they still have WACs or do you have to go off base for a good time?" Nick fires off.

"Well they're not called that anymore, but let's just say some of us don't need WACs for a good time..."

"Alright-" Irene interjects, "So are you at least seeing anyone steadily beyond just a good time"?

"Yeah, like with the lights on so she has to -"

"NICK," Ned admonishes.

Tim finishes a bite and confesses, "Yeah there's a gal at the credit union I've taken out a few times, guess we'll see where it goes."

"Well that's good. Have you thought about college yet?"

"What's college?"

Nick and Ned both grin. Noreen looks at Nick in an attempt to avoid laughing, has to close her eyes and swallow it with some potatoes.

"Noreen was it anything like this growing up with all those brothers?"

"Pretty much, at least the ones that didn't get thrown in a river." This gets a bigger laugh than Nick knows what to do with.

"We tried but the river spit these two back out," Ned offers.

Nick pipes up, "OK in light of all this I'm afraid I'll need to be excused."

Irene: "Oh no."

Nick leans toward Noreen and rips one onto the bare wooden chair, which gives it an impact wrench sort of effect. Noreen just looks away and sighs.

Irene: "That's an old one."

Tim: "She just called you an old fart."

Noreen: "No more beans for the lab rat here."

Irene: "I move we stop feeding him altogether."

Ned: "I second."

Noreen: "All in favor?"

As expected, Nick is the sole nay.

Irene taps a salt shaker onto the table, "Motion carries."

"So...." Nick starts in.

Noreen: "Now what?"

"....Timbo, do they let you handle a gun much?"

"Depends on what you mean, technically it's verboten but what you do in the shower is your own beeswax."

Noreen starts to cough, reaches for water, everyone asks if she's OK, she holds up a hand, then stops abruptly and fires an emblazoned, point-blank glare at Nick like he'd never seen before.

And so, Nick looks down and continues eating.

* * * * *

The gals are the only ones left at the table. Ned had excused himself to the garage to check up on some spray painting (officially) and for some peace and quiet (obviously).

"Have I told you that you must be a saint?" Noreen consoles.

"Thanks, dear," Irene flatly responds.

"How soon till we make them do dishes?"

Irene looks at her, "I think you're gonna fit in just fine around here."

They smile and clink glasses.

The brothers had been at the piano for about ten excruciating minutes; some things are only fun if you're the one doing it.

Noreen: "So this is your reward for teaching them?"

Irene shakes her head, "No good deed..."

"Are you taking in any real students these days at least?"

"Here and there, and I gotta say, even the worst ones don't give me half the headache."

They look on to the next room, Tim seated and pounding out the chords, BUM-BUM-BUM BUM-BUM-BUM BUM-BUM-BUM BUMMMMMMM...

Then they both join in, "MYYYYYYY BUNNNNNSSSSSS"

Noreen asks, "Are they singing what I think they are?"

"We both know it could be worse, dear."

"And is that like a...regression..."

"Major scale, we got that far and it took on a life of its own. I suppose it's quality time, this beast I helped create."

"At least they have a smidge of harmony."

Irene scoffs, "Now I remember why we didn't have company over that often in recent years."

Nick turns toward his gal, "And now for one special lady...one..two...three..." and then awkwardly taps out the bass riff for The Joker on the low keys, then the Brothers Swanson wail out the first verse, 'THEY CALL ME THE SPACE COW-BOYEEEE..."

Their mother recalls, "Oh yeah, he was messing with that recently...isn't it an old rock song?"

Noreen creeps up behind Nick and gives him the wedge of a lifetime.

As Nick struggles to get his situation back in order, Irene puts the brothers on immediate KP detail with inspection at 2030. She and Noreen head out to the garage and sneak a Coors out of Ned's little fridge then share it on the front porch.

Mudslide

September, 1990

Starting classes at EIT came with an elaborate buildup since the quarter begins mid-September. It felt kinda cool at first to not have to start up another level with the "kids", ones you know plus some kindy-gardners you never would. You hear your classmates making plans, changing plans, enlisting, having babies, as if anyone knows what the hell to do.

Nick tries to start a thick slab of a Stephen King paperback as he would have as a freshman back in the Reagan years, but a nagging, shadowy sense of loss gets in the way, that daily circuit has been broken, folks you don't talk to but have known essentially all your waking life, now frozen in amber. These days you run into one of the guys at Sears and actually have a conversation, as if that were the norm all along, you hadn't actually spoken since eighth grade. He gets to know most of the characters in It before classes begin then puts it away for good before the reunion gets going.

He first became familiar with the campus when his folks would take family walks on holidays or nice weekends, there's a couple miles of trails throughout the woods, and they even cross-country ski when enough snow cover. At one point you come to a small pond full of bobtails behind one of the buildings, and there's a solitary playset, with a slide and swings. Nick tried to picture college students playing on it but that didn't seem right, it wasn't until he heard that EIT has an Early Childhood Development program with a student-run daycare that it begins to make sense.

At the end of his hazy junior year he took some kind of fill-in-the-dot-with-a-number-two-pencil test at the campus on a Saturday, but then never learned the results of it; principal seemed to have forgotten about them sending students by the time his senior year started. Nick figured he just didn't do well enough on it to stand out.

But the office definitely announced the recruiting event that EIT Engineering Tech department was holding, so Nick signs up and finds out that he's the only one in a class of 180 that showed interest to go, so if you have transportation just sign out and have fun and bring us back the excuse. At the campus he's quickly immersed in a bus load from one of the small town schools, hangs out with an affable dude who seems popular and in good terms with the babes. They get an intro from the ET director, the faculty introduce their programs, tour the facility with some poor students on hand to demonstrate here and there.

At the point where they tour the EET lab he makes a point to introduce himself to Al Glass, one of his dad's former comrades from the early days, and finds out they still call him Goody. They provide lunch at the cafeteria and it's the only time Nick had ever downed two whole hamburgers, it smelled too good in there. No fries, just magic patties and steamy buns that somehow didn't need any toppings. It was clear that EIT wanted to make a good impression on prospects, nothing wrong with that, maybe they knew these greensters still thrive on the basics, protein and calories.

It was a feelgood day, they sent you home with the application, have your school send a transcript, he did all that, and he got the acceptance letter just after graduation. The deal was that his folks would pay the tuition as long as he would work and pay his own gas and daytime meals and such, it all seemed to fall into place. He went out to register on the designated evening, in the auditorium for some reason, the director Sue whats-her-name was there and gave a welcome as she signed the slip, no problems since it's right in line with the catalog, just take this to the registrar.

Sometime in August he receives his schedule and heads to Kmart to grab a new Trapper, although the simplicity of a five-subject wirebound has its attraction too. Yeah, maybe just some durable folders and the wirebound, there's pens at home, this will be fun. This is where things start to turn up after losing Paps.

"Nick he was so proud of you for getting accepted, we know you'll do great."

One afternoon, to bide his time before work he finds a piece of his mom's typing paper and draws a grid, five columns and, lessee, one-two-three...the first class is at 9am and the last ends at four, then there's that lab twice a week. They use R for Thursday, and instead of an F the failing grade is an E, hopefully we won't see many of those. So with some colored pencils that he'd gotten in the extended family gift exchange a couple years ago he makes a Color Schedule to hang on the corkboard next to the workbench.

Then finally the first Monday arrives, overcast but not too cool, math course begins at 9 but he gets to campus around 8 since they were warned that parking will be crazy at first, until folks start to ride share or just bugger out. Nick sits in the Cordoba a while and tries to relax, but the tummy gurgles, the egg sandwich hit the spot but then, nerves. This is so silly. It's just sitting in a class, taking notes, maybe answering questions, he's surely already seen the material, but he needs to unload. It's not urgent but needs to happen.

Nick gets out with his books under arm and heads to Gelding Hall, the first building from when the U initially branched here back in the 50s or so. There's a really neat sculpture of a winged motorcycle at one end, or at least there used to be, need to check on that. But not now. He heads to the basement and thankfully it seems pretty vacant, seems there's a mens' - ahh there's the door. No one around, pick the middle stall, balance the books on the T of the doors, might need to see about a backpack, wipe down the seat, pull 'em down.

Mudslide. Good lord. This is so silly. This is one of those times you stand, flush, then sit back down to clean up. All better. Some things the body does when the mind is uncertain will just never make sense. Moving on.

He heads over to the Tech building and finds the room, but settles in the little lobby for now. There's a couple dudes there but not talking, they are probably fellow greens, first day here officially. Eventually one of them checks the clock and heads down the hall, and that prompts the other two. The clock-checker heads past but Nick and the second one slip into Room 153 for some math.

The schedule had just said "Staff" as the instructor, but then in walks George King, one of the Electronic Tech instructors. Gradually the room fleshes out and George takes roll, does the intro, sets the pace, and just starts into some equations when the door opens and a character strolls in, or rather, winds in, with some kind of hip condition that sets his gate into a pitcher-windup sort of motion, long scraggly hair and some beard, wide eyes and smells like an oft-damp basement. King George, as Goody calls him, verifies his place on the roster as Harvey Stump. Mixing with 'adults' was certainly gonna be interesting. The dude who had first joined Nick in the room was named Dave.

Later in the day he gets to the English Comp class on the third floor of Gelding, taught by a Chicagoan named Dan, and after the introduction passes out a syllabus as people straggle in and things gradually get organized. Some can't find a seat and not everyone can even see the prof, and so he says he'll have to request a bigger room, so on Wednesday there will be a sign outside the room of this door.

Wednesday arrives and people gradually trickle into the new room. Dan gets established at the front and does a reset, and makes sure everyone has a syllabus, goes over a few things, then passes out the first assignment, a one-pager to get the ball rolling, due on Friday, and ends the class with "Good luck." Nick had heard that some college instructors would drop you to a C for just misplacing a comma, but that must be in advanced university courses, this seemed pretty laid back, but still, time to roll.

On Thursday Nick found the Apple II lab in the library and brought his old 5.25 inch floppies from word processing class at JHS. There were some dumb notes to girls still on there, he wonders if they appreciated his wit, never got any comments, but also a rather ambitious case study of computer larceny from the same time span. In less than an hour he has his page typed, formatted, and spit out in that same font that all ImageWriters seem to spit out.

The second Monday starts with clearer skies and mind, we know what to expect, even if the drafting class seems a bit rigid, he's not good at neatness when it comes to pencil lead. They all file into English Comp and he takes a seat at the back next to a petite gal who had graduated from one of the township schools, Dan wheels in an overhead projector and starts putting some of the papers up to review in a group, with the author's name redacted of course. Nick tries to keep calm when the second one up is his own.

7 1/2 WPM

The dahs and dits faithfully float in across the ether just as Nick floats in and out of consciousness on a breezy afternoon. He caught the slower code practice and just lets it roll,

A S W I T H H A N D H E L D S O F T H I S S I Z E ,

He's pretty sure that a handheld is a handie-talkie, which is what ham types call walkie-talkies, and this sounds like a product review. The speed picks up after they identify themselves and say which issue page of the journal is being tapped out today. So does someone sit there and tap it out each time? Sounds too perfect. Must be a tape or maybe they automate it with programming and one of those sound cards for the PC, which would make a killer project some day if one had the funds.

He can copy pretty good into the seven and a half words per minute range, and some at the ten words.

Taking the license test would be a breeze if he could get it done soon, at least for the lowest class license. Actually, shouldn't say 'lowest', it's the entry-level class with the least privileges, ya gotta start somewhere. Actually if he does the code then he could get the higher frequency range as well as selected slivers of the shortwave bands, might as well do it all at once.

Nick had thought about contacting some of Pap's old club mates to see about the test, but it would mean taking a day to drive up there, and if he did that he'd feel obligated to stop by Gramma's.

"Now honey you wouldn't have to see her, she'd love it though, I might even go with you and stay with her," his mom would offer.

At one point he had asked Goody if he had any local contacts, he did, and was thinking of getting into radio himself.

After the code gets past his comprehension, still in the cattails but mentally rested, the gal floats into range as if astride the tallest horse in the cavalry, unstoppable, and even when they begin the inevitable fantasy she's impermeable, unwavering, willing yet not revealing any secrets, even though he can't help but imagine them completely unclothed, her bouncing on top, getting and giving as if in a deep state of worship, concepts he'll never understand in a thousand lifetimes-

"NICK what sounds good for supper?" Irene yells from the bottom of the stairs but somehow pierces like she's a foot away.

He jumps a foot and before trying to think of an answer he has to grin at how some things just never change.

NX

Cheers from every seat in the arena roar as the Administrator and her aides stride toward her motorcade, it was a rousing address giving hope and inspiration to millions. Known as NX, although her charisma cannot be summed up in a mere name, the symbol of all that is good in the world and the uniting force for the path forward.

"So you dreamt this-"

"Yeah, before I woke up, it kinda hit me in a flash."

"So this NX looks like me."

"She IS you."

"What does she wear?"

"It's red, a, what do you call it, maybe a leotard?"

"Oh please, I don't have the body for that."

"Your body rocks, and so does NX."

"Well, maybe with a matching shawl, we'll work on it. So she rules the world?"

"She leads the people."

"And does she have a consort?"

"What do you mean?"

"Does she have a fellow to support her?"

"He goes by NS."

"And does NS wear a leotard?"

"He usually wears a hot tub."

Noreen pauses for a second. "You are way too good at this for your own sake, you know that?"

"What, it's just something that popped in my head."

"God if you ever got me in a hot tub..."

"Sounds nice."

"Honey, nice wouldn't have nothin' to do with it, believe me. Anyway...mmm, next topic, Mom was glad to see us, said we seem happy together, and was trying to get me to admit certain things."

"Moms are like that, you gotta stay ahead of 'em."

"Well they usually know what's going on but want to hear you say it."

"Yeah it's always chess with them."

She just sighs. "Nick what are we ever going to do with you?"

"I get that a lot."

"Your poor mother, I should pick her some flowers."

"Bring 'em with you tomorrow."

"So are you inviting me to over?"

"Mom said you're welcome here anytime, Timbutt will get here in the afternoon, we'll eat later, then the Forth with grandparents, Sunday with Mom's gang, Monday we're fishing with Dad."

"Very good, yeah we're gonna do a big fire pit then they'll be blowing things up into the wee hours. How about...if I get there around 4?"

"That should be perfectionism."

"Alright, that should give me time to do some things and clean up, then come to her aid."

"And see me."

"Yeah I suppose you'll be there too, oh well."

"Now about that tape..."

"Ooh did you like it?"

"It's sexy, it's sweet, it sounds like you...is that Thorogood live? Rockin' and a reelin', wheelin an a dealin..."

"Yeah I tried to find some rock stuff, brothers come in handy like that."

"I think 106 played that track later at night back in junior high days, brought back memories."

"Bring back any from the drive in?"

"Uhhh yeah that too, oh, and the second side was interesting."

"Yeah...wait, what, second side?"

"Mmmm hmmm."

She pauses, "What the hell was on the second side, do I wanna know?"

"Well it starts out some voices, then a count, then drums, then a bass kicks in, then it sounds like you singing Steve Miller with a dude."

"Oh buggah."

"Was I not supposed to hear it?"

"Nick you should probably ignore that."

"Honey you should know it's too late. I've played it several times, can't get enough."

"Oh man...I got so wrapped up finding all the tracks and dubbing I forgot to check the other side...OK, yeah that was the time Arden wanted to see what it was like to record music, the boy has a creative side that never fully developed, outside the shop at least."

"Ahhh huh."

"That's really it, we couldn't get a good sound but it was nice to mess with my bass again."

"I thought of running it through an EQ to try and clean it up some, would be fun to play it in the car."

"Yeah right, if you want we could just try it again sometime, dummy still has his drums and you could join in somewhere."

"Hmmmm."

"Well, just be warned...um...at the time he was trying to get inspired with certain herbs, if you catch my drift."

"Oh so it was hazy-dazy."

"Yeah hazy-dazy, I didn't take a puff but started feeling pretty warped by the third time through, I guess it fits the song though, midnight toker."

"Great band name, Hazy Daisy."

"No shit, I might have gone with that back in the day. Just never made the right connections outside of the classical stuff, different worlds, you know."

"Prog bands kinda blend it all together."

"Those guys are usually geniuses from England though."

"You've got the accent down pretty good at least."

In her perfect Brit, "why thank you, good squire."

Edna

Tuesday, June 30, 1992

The campus snack bar is open lunchtime hours during the summer and does full menu if you don't mind waiting for things to be made fresh, and it's much more peaceful without the in-house radio rocking out in the background. Nick and Noreen are at the same table at the back where they got reacquainted just a few weeks – actually, wow, months ago. She actually brought in her own salad and he thought a fish sandwich sounded good, not like they didn't mind the wait, despite spitting precipitation keeping them off the patio.

He had been wanting to stop by the lab and touch base with Brian, so they went over some things. It sounded like there was about 20% routine matters and then the rest was come and go, most equipment was all set but there would be a few calibrations due soon, but nothing major. Brian had gone ahead and checked parts inventory and gotten an order ready but would leave that for Nick if he wanted. Sure, why not.

Noreen caught up with him, right on schedule Goody had to ask if she'd gotten her eyes checked recently.

"I don't think it would do either of us any good, so we'll leave well enough alone."

So they take their time after eating, the day has a mixed vibe, he gets to meet her mom today.

"Nick have you ever been in a nursing home?"

"A few times, mostly as a kid."

"OK, just wanted to make sure. Some things a person can never be fully ready for."

"I know." They squeeze hands as she stares out the window.

He isn't concerned about what he might face, this just feels right.

The weekend had been somewhat of a drag, the wet weather was fitting. At one point he listened to a severe weather net on the scanner and thought that might be good to help with at some point, but he wasn't otherwise motivated, couldn't ride the bike, work was filled with the pangs of landing back on earth, the morning reared its head too soon, he was never good at catching up on sleep. A lot of things were started then abandoned, tried to watch TV, ended up dozing off to music here and there.

He almost called her during jazz but it seemed too soon, things were still aglow, words get in the way. A long shower after work was just plain soothing. He would have to let the jazz do its work tonight and let Sunday come.

And it did, she rang late morning with a question about computers that didn't fool anyone, chalk it up to her sense of humor, even if at a subconscious level.

"It's good to hear your voice," he admits. "Wish we could watch some of this stuff I've been taping."

"Hold onto those, we'll get a chance, gotta plan it right, you know where that will lead if we curl up,  plus it will be colder in a few months."

"Yeah good point."

"So, do you have some time this week, did you want to go with me to see Mom?"

With more rain in the forecast they were going to have to pick a day and make it a good one, so far so good, although Nick seems to be enjoying it more. She walks with noticeably less pert than usual, he's just glad she can be herself, but he tries rubbing her shoulders some.

She smiles, "Sweetie I appreciate you coming with me and trying to make me feel better."

"That's what we do isn't it?"

She moves her chair next to his and leans on him, tears up a bit, and pretty soon he realizes her weight feels like a warm bag of sand, bushes dance for them in the weeping window.

After a bit she draws a breath, "Ready hon?"

"Ready Freddie."

This gets an ember of earnest smile.

Thankfully he's parked closer and offers to do the driving. They get on the main road, and he tries, "I hear Coverdale and Page are gonna do an album soon, might tour."

She's still in a funk, "Hmmm...wait, who?"

"David Coverdale, from Whitesnake and Jimmy Page from LedZep."

"Oh yeah, groovy, sorry, not with it today."

"So what do you listen to mostly?"

"Oh I'm an omnivore, but whatever fits the mood, sometimes I sleep with classical, but in the car I just flip around."

"But enough about the other night."

This gets a laugh while she looks away. "So when do I get my bra back?"

"Come and get it."

"I'll just take something of yours hostage, you know how this works."

"Want my undywears?"

"Shut up and take the next left."

"Oh...my brother is s’posed to be back this way for the weekend, so be warned."

"Well if he's nothing like you...wait, that could still be a bad thing."

"It's worse than very bad, run, just run."

"I supposed I have to bite the bullet at some point - listen to me, haven't even met the guy."

"Mom mentioned doing some cooking and hinted that would be a good time to have you over, if you can make it."

She just throws that expectant look, "Nick, you know I'll move heaven and earth to be there....I just love the way you get around to mentioning things. Your poor mother...if it happens to come up again then you better mention and hint that I'd love to get there early and help out. Can ya handle that?"

Nick just sighs and shuts up. Noreen waits for a straight stretch in the road and pecks him on the cheek and puts a hand on his shoulder. 

They arrive at the facility and find a spot, he parks, they just sit there. After another deep breath she looks up at him to signal and they pull up their hoods and head into the lobby then down the right-center of the four hallways that fan out. Staff float here and about as Nick meets eyes with many of the residents that look up, some smile, some stare blankly. It smells like a hospital.

She's not in her room, one of the staff says try the game room, so they do, and Noreen approaches a woman with short gray locks seated at a table staring out into the blender they'd been in and out of all day.

"Momma, hi," to get her attention.

She turns to face them and smiles, "Hi dear," then stands up and they hug.

"Mom this is Nick."

"Oh hi, good to meet you, call me Edna."

Nick takes both her hands, "I'll do just that, Edna, good to meet you."

"What brings you out today?"

Noreen jumps in, "It had been too long, Mom, I get too busy, I know, the boys are better about it -"

"Just glad to see a familiar face, the weather looks awful."

"It's much nicer in here for sure."

They all take seats and the gals catch up a bit, are they treating you well, Noreen is getting back in front of a classroom and Nick has been a great help, they both glance at him now and then.

As they kinda rattle on he pulls a checker board over his way and assembles the checkers to see if they're all there, and they are. Nick hadn't played in years, not since with a granddad, and he couldn't remember if they still had a set at his house.

After a few minutes a fellow in a wheelchair pulls up, "Hey wanna rack 'em up?"

"Sure, why not, you may have to remind me how," as he situates things and moves chairs.

"Nuthin to it. I'm Roger by the way," and reaches for a shake.

"Nick on this end, alright, what's yer pleasure?"

Roger takes reds and goes over the kings, which is the part Nick had long forgotten. Such a simple game, nothing to lose but pride, these old timers usually wipe up the floor with you it seems like.

They get going and Nick finally gets a king but can't do much, but it's all in fun, his opponent is a retired machinist with MS, body is not what it used to be but he's sharp as a tack.

Noreen glances over and prods her mom to do the same, they seem amused, good for them. At one point they go back to Edna's room for a few minutes, he and Rog keep resetting, Nick is behind 1-2 but who's counting.

They aren't gone long and take up positions to watch the action, as it were, Nick's remembering a few things, maybe he played this more than he'd thought over the years.

Rog kept egging him on, "Keep on mixin' em up son, you know the moves, there's a million ways ain't they?"

He gets the idea that Noreen is about ready to head out, so this will be the last, then somewhere in that thought,

"FUCKETTY FUCKATASH," at a piercing volume from the next table over, everyone looks to find a stout lady who'd just spilled some clear pop on the table and herself, and the staff are quick to pop in and calm her down, nothing hurt but pride.

Edna just grins, Roger has her back to the scene and is almost biting a lip, Nick has to turn to the window till he can get his composure back.

But speaking of hurt pride, final tally is 4-2 but they shake hands and pledge a rematch.

Nick gets a hug from Edna, she's happy with him tagging along and it's good that her girl has a nice friend.

On the rainy trip out to the car Nick can't get over it, "God, fucketty fuckatash, how have I never heard that before."

"Awww I'm tellin' you said a bad word."

He unlocks the passenger door, she gets in but pulls him in after, and they squeeze inside the closing door.

She looks him in the eye for a moment, "Nick you have no idea, I've been dreading this but somehow it was totally 180 degrees, I mean, she and I don't always have a lot to talk about, but this really worked, and you playing checkers was so adorable."

"Adorable getting my ass kicked."

"I'll make it up to you...wish I could right now actually, I could throw you down back there and eat you up right now."

He rolls the dice on this being a shut-up-and-kiss-moment, and that appears to be the right answer.

Since the windows are starting to fog up they decide to head out, before he starts the car, "take a look in the glove box."

She does and pulls out her bra, "you ASSHOLE!" Then lassos his head with it and pulls him close, two beat kiss.

"Won't that stretch it out?"

"Please, this is the only way I'll ever stretch a bra. Maybe I should have fertilized them."

He pinches her left one, "didn't we do that right here the other day?"

She retracts the makeshift harness, "Alright we're taking up valuable parking space, start this thing up, move, SCATTAMOOSH."

This leads way to the expected Wayne's World-ish bout of Queen improvisations, mamma sang bass, she takes the low parts and he the higher ones, as she snaps his right arm with the bra, then eventually it ends up on her head with the cups over the eyes. After that gets a laugh she puts it on rightly over her top.

"Keeping 'em warm are we?"

"Since your hands are busy..."

They banter on to the campus lot, decide they have no further business at the school, he has to work later, and then, Noreen admits,

"It turns out I had some ransom for my wayward undergarment all along," then pulls a cassette out of her purse and plops it into his deck.

The first track is bluesy, sung by a powerhouse female, love me baby, like my back ain't got no bone. Noreen just watches him for reaction, he chimes in, "Interesting."

"Recognize the voice?"

"Wow is it Bonnie Raitt?"

"You know it, from like 20 years ago, you were shittin' in diapers."

"This is hot."

"It took me a while to put it together on Bart's stereo, I hope you like it."

"Thanks babe."

They take their time saying goodbye and he watches her drive off as long as she's visible, takes in a couple more tracks, then heads home.

Delano

 March, 1987

This was always a weird month for who knows why. Maybe the weather changing every ten minutes, everyone's either sick or getting over sickness or coming down with sickness, spring is not yet her and winter is dead. On its back. Tits up. Dead.

Nick had lasted 4 days of varsity track, Coach is a great guy but runs his team as John Wayne's General Sherman. One of the student helpers had told him that Coach wanted to talk to him about why he'd stopped showing up but Nick can't find the time or the words and just ducks it out. He hadn't really connected with anyone on the team, not many freshmen went out, he's not a fast sprinter and doesn't have the poop for distance, so much for that.

Plus, there had been a revival series at church and it was convenient to duck for cover in the meetings. These always seem to attract the latest loose-ends to show up on the teen row, including one Tommy Delano. He's a tall, dark featured bloke, and done time in the joovie joint, evidently smooth with the ladies, sports a thick mullet, probably from a less advantaged background than most church folk yet has a way of transcending whatever he wears. For a couple of nights Delano sat on the other side of Miss Jenny Pratt and got most of her attention as Nick was just glad to lean back against the edge of the pew instead of running across some field in cloudy wind.

So a couple weeks later Nick signs out of the school cafeteria to hit the head, and is almost there when he turns around to find Delano about five feet behind and switching his expression from cunning to smile. At the urinals Delano brings up how he'd gotten with Jenny on some youth trip that Nick had been able to miss, sounded like second base was involved. Nick doesn't know what to say and gets squirreled by the tune in his head, from the VHS of Headbanger's Ball that his brother had scored, and asked Delano if he'd heard of them.

"Yeah I heard a couple of theirs, they're OK. You need to come over sometime we can jam, find some chicks."

"We'll see."

They go back to their respective tables, and in about a week Delano's mom moves them out of the Jameson district.