The Munici-pool

Monday July 12, 1988

“So this Sabrina - wait, is her mom a paralegal?”

Nick had joined Deke at the pool at about the time they had switched from laps-only, as it turns out, that’s probably what keeps Deke so spry as he pushes sixty. This is the first he’d been here this year, and not much before that. Pools reminded him too much of two rough goes of lessons at the Y, which, probably would have gone much better if not in a group setting.

“I think so. She was my lab partner, and, a year ahead of me, not expecting much.”

“I might just know her then, she’s quite a young lady, and she called your sorry butt?”

“Yeah but so do the annoying ones.”

Deke shakes his head and looks around, grinning, “Nicky is there any hope for you?”

“It’s just not a priority.”

“Well your grades are good, right?”

“Yeah pulled ‘em up some after last fall’s adventure.”

“Sounds like a fresh start.”

Nick pauses. “I’m trying to think of it that way. Besides, you’re not married.”

“Well, true, never had good luck in that department, which is why I always ask.”

“You and everyone else.” Nick really wanted to change the subject. “So you’re more retired now?”

“Yeah, gradually take on fewer cases, let the juniors get their feet wet - hey, no pun intended <laughs while kicking up a splash>...but yeah, trying to coach ‘em and work myself out of a job, well, it means a lot, you know this firm, to honor what Lew started since I’m the only original partner left.”

“I don’t think I could be a lawyer.”

This gets a dirty look. “WHAT? Sure ya could, just pay attention to details, like you do with those circuits and shit.”

“But you have to deal with people and their problems.”

“Nicky a problem is a problem, that’s life.”

“I like my wires, thank you very much.”

Deke grins and looks on, “You still thinking of the program out at campus, like your daddy’s line of work?”

“Yeah I’d like to be out there, hell I’d go now if they let me.”

“High school can get old, for a THINKER, that’s what you are my man, you THINK too damn much!”

“You think so?”

Deke explodes into laughter and shakes his head. “So what you been up to this summer then, besides hidin’ in the AC? Son you are PALE.”

“We went camping on the fourth, and Tim just went to basic.”

“Oh wow, Army?”

“Yeah, Dad was Navy but he doesn’t like to talk about it.”

“I can understand it, I was just glad to get through law school with the Navy, did I ever tell you about it?”

“Yeah a while back, over iced tea.”

“Ahh good, well, as the church folk say, the Lord works in mysterious ways, guess that’s true no matter your beliefs.”

Nick ponders a second, “Yeah seems like it.”

“Well, young, man, think I’ll put some work clothes on and check up on the young'uns at the office. You gonna get your head wet at least?”

“Yeah I think so, at least I won’t look like a creep sittin’ here.”

“Just try not to make any dates,” Deke laughs maniacally while rubbing Nick’s head.

“Yeah yeah, have fun Deke”

“Keep in touch dude, “ as he gathers up his towel and bag.

“See ya.”

Nick takes a deep breath and looks around, not very crowded, mostly little kids splashing around in their arm floaties. He slips into the water at the four-foot level, holds his nose and braves a head dunk as a way to redeem those lessons at the Y. Deke was right, this heat has kept him pretty alabaster white and the sun is just now rising over the trees. 

He’s hoping to stay out of the house for a while. Irene has been tutoring piano for a Geena Fawkes, who graduated the year ahead of Tim. She’s back from college for the summer and wanting to accompany worship and children’s programs. This kind of outlook, paired with her gentle nature and non-threatening good looks, makes for a very uncomfortable situation, and not for any reason Nick can put a finger on.

Nevertheless, it was good to vocalize the notion of starting over this year. To some degree that applies to this calendar year, but now with the upstairs to himself, hell, it may even be possible to feel more human. 

Floating around in this water helps, just the right temp, usually just bends his knees and starts a doggie paddle of sorts, too bad he doesn’t have something with buoyancy. Maybe one of the moms brought extra arm floaties.

After about, who knows, fifteen minutes, some loud junior high dipshits show up and spoil the scene, so he climbs out the nearest ladder, towels off, slips on his Nikes and t-shirt and heads to his bike. The combo lock is finicky as always but gets it loose from the rack and heads off as he came, with a towel draped across his neck. Before leaving the lot he spots, as luck would have it, a car full of four coeds from the upcoming senior class that will improve the scenery of the pool by a million percent, but...yeah.

It’s only a few blocks home and there’s no extra car in the drive, so he goes right in.

“Did you have a good talk with Henry?”

“Yeah, he busted my chops around.”

“Well good, it builds character. Oh, Gena asked about you, she says you could probably go out with her and some friends if you wanted.”

Nick just looks off to the side.

“I know, you would probably get bored. I just wish you could get out of the house more like that.”

“I’m probably going to the library before it gets hot.”

“Well that’s a start at least. Oh I just cut up some watermelon, Gena had some.”

Nick grimaces, hadn’t yet developed a taste for it.

“Well it’s there if you want some with lunch, plenty of dogs left from the weekend too.”

“That works.”  Research has shown that leftover semi-burnt weenies are a delicacy when nuked for 60 seconds on half power, if you start with it in an equally cold bun with a cold slice of cheese. Also makes for a great Zappa album that Nick has yet to check out from the liberry.

Nick changed out of his nearly-dry trunks and hit the bike again, enjoyed some late morning summer and was glad for the rack and tote he’d rigged up to haul LPs. He’s in luck. They had just gotten in Yes’ release from last year, Big Generator, and he even grabbed the well-worn Pink Floyd reboot. To complete the trifecta there’s a Robert Plant solo he hadn’t heard yet. Metal had lost it’s shine in recent months, especially after visiting the plant where a younger engineer near his dad’s office was playing some recent King Crimson at low volume. Sometimes, he realized, there’s things to be said about a level of sophistication.

Summer Thaw

Sunday July 11, 1988

It’s a bone dry ninety-three degrees and Nick thought the country breeze would provide sufficient cooling as he rides through the country. At this point it’s starting to feel like a trek for survival.

He headed out just a couple miles to the west of town then south, late afternoon, not a cloud in the sky, and stopping at someone’s house would be an admission of poor judgment. Some water should help, and there’s a gas station up ahead where this road meets the highway that has fountain drinks and hopefully some sense of mercy.

Tim had just shipped off after his big weekend at Hector’s, which makes things that much crazier. This drought is supposed to relent soon, at least there’s a chance, but probably not the heat. 

Maybe now they would get less of the hangup calls, assuming they are trying for his brother, always eager to answer. Nick had recently started avoiding the phone as much as possible. Jenna Wern had a habit of ringading-dinging at the worst possible moments after he had paid her a passing complement at a lunch table toward the end of the year, a freshman who claims she’s going to be married before graduating high school. One time he started up a Saxon tape on his headphones and held it to the phone for a few seconds and she suddenly had to yield the phone to a sibling or such. Works every time.

Although sometimes he would hear from Sabrina, his chemistry table partner this past year and a refreshing contrast to most girls since she just wanted to catch up and laugh a while. Times like those, albeit rare, made it kinda nice that they hadn’t gotten an unlisted number.

This summer had been a lot like five summers ago, his room was generally not habitable till an hour after sundown, except this had been a dry heat for which air conditioning helps little, but the tradeoff was a cool crossbreeze upstairs most nights. Worst case he had to couch surf or camp out in the den.

Once in a while a lonely, latent cottonwood bloom floats by without a care in the world. Nick wishes it could tell a story, then wishes it could carry him home.

The routine of being on his own for Sunday mornings has set in, he gets to sleep in and his grades have improved, stays out of trouble. His folks have settled into a new church and he goes to some of the dinners and events, everyone seems comfy with this arrangement.

The irony is how, well, pious he feels these days, staying focused on what seems important, not interfering with anyone, far as he knows, helping out at home, headed to some sort of college, probably what he’s always known at the bench, except hopefully for benevolent purposes, not that he has any regrets about what he’d revealed, just of what it put the family and others though. 

Almost out of sweat and with skin slightly tingling in the breeze, this purpose brings him to the Amoco along the state route he’d have to follow briefly to the edge of town. After leaning his bike just outside the doors, he barges into the A/C to a near-empty store and asks if they can spot him a cup of water.

“Oh help yourself, cups of water are free, get one as big as you want.”

“Thanks I sure need it, I’ll be sure to give you some business when I can.”

“Nothin’ to it, rest a while before you head back out.”

So he looks around a couple minutes then starts to feel chilled, then heads back out after chugging most of the water. He hates to toss the ice so he folds the cup best he can and tucks it in the back of his shorts, which feels surprisingly refreshing, then heads on.

This part of the trip seems downhill and downwind, nuthin to it, and once in town the sight of familiar trees actually makes things seem cooler.

Back at the ranch his folks are in their fabled poise but just reading, TV makes too much heat.

Ned speaks up first, “Another few minutes and we were gonna come looking.”

“I got some free ice water at Amoco.”

“Ahh, well how about taking rides early morning?”

“Yeah but what will I do in the afternoon?”

Ned just shakes his head.

Irene, “You can always call some girls.”

Nick moans clear up the stairwell.

She goes on, “Was it something I said?”

After a shower Nick flips on the oscillating fan he’d been assigned and tries some radio, nah, oh, finds a decent dub of Whitesnake from what seems like a lifetime ago, just last year, and succumbs to that a while in headphones.

He thinks of trying to ring Vance to see if he ever hits the city pool, even in the morning would be decent, who knows.

After chilling a while he nukes some nachos, a fine Sunday PM tradition and consumes them in the shady rear deck. The house on that side faces to the street perpendicular to his and he used to rake leaves for Mrs. Wellingham, who, in turn has a niece in her early 20s and not at all threatening, but then they tend to be pretty quiet, Irene has talked to them just a few times over the years.

Tonight calls for mindless reruns, at least there’s Tracy Ullman and Garry Shandling, and maybe another quick ride at some point.

After filling his mason-jar mug with cold water for the night stand he debates whether some release is in order, and it has been three days, which seems about right. Inspiration has been few and far between this entire year, let alone when February brought a touch of anxiety, understandably worse this year, after months of nuclear winter.

There was simply no one he really wanted to touch, or look at carnally, at least in the practical sense. When at the height of inspiration, like last year leading up to the September Apocalypse as he’d come to know it, having recovered from the phone tapping deal, there was purpose, this year, it’s something for which he didn’t know the word: malaise. It will be a full year past soon and he’s thinking that anniversary will help him move on.

But it seems the carnal notions, for Nick, are as far divorced from purpose as ever, now that the romance of first discovery have long passed.

Still, let’s take a taste of the well, just after the lights go out, must be a dozen gals float by, some his age, some older - he has to fight thinking of poor helpless Donna in her bath chair - but then some of the divorced ones they’ve met over the years, hmm…what if one of them needs help with a car stereo or…this part is never easy…one thing leads to another, but what’s the one thing at the beginning?

Eventually, when the moment draws near, out of the either, yeap, that night last year when he tried something, with that gal, now on the other side of the galaxy, although, the more this happens, the less embarrassing that moment seems.

In his last waking moments, after cleaning up, he thinks it might be nearing time to check in on Deke.

Afterglow

Sunday

Nick awakens in the still of the night to the sound of jazz and Deej sawing logs. He realizes she had been vague and passive about going to her grandparents and they fell asleep after some more rummy, a decent frozen pizza and splitting that beer. At some point the gang stopped by, that is, the remaining four that had joined them the other night, the highlight of which was checking out Curt’s uncle’s ‘73 Mach II that they were plotting to restore. That made Nick wonder how the Cordoba was coming along as the other dudes would go into their radio DJ act, which, probably stemmed from some Dan Akayoid or Joe Piscapo sketch. At least it made their dates giggle.

Once things died back down, our heroes felt romantic again and turned off the lights to semi-retire upstairs, where Deej had them lie on their sides, him in back, to try a special something she’d been working on now and then, and she even had a little tube of KY. As she lifted her leg a certain way the gradual insertion was easy and they took their time, to both of them seemed all new and when the moment arrived Deej applauded and the ensuing laughter made it a challenge for Nick to keep from slipping out early.

And so that, after a long fulfilling day, and the beer, and the brief influx of visitors, and mostly, the jazz had lulled at least Nick into one of those half waking states with a strange glow, somewhere, in the conscience, like the neighbor’s porch light that assures civilization is nearby, which, at least sometimes, is nice.

At this point the glow has been replaced with that slight twinge of uncertainty over Deej’s whereabouts, and any uncomfortable conversations ahead, but then again, things always seem so cool with her grandparents that this is probably just as well. He slips from beneath the blanket for a quick pee, unbeknownst to his guest then makes sure she’s covered.

In milestone moments like this one tends to sum up their life thus far, and naturally it’s a logarithmic speed that slows down just after a rather uneventful Christmas with Tim back for a few days, then Nick got in not a few extra hours at Rad Shack and then continuing the winter term, then just starting the next set of classes when he fatefully ran into the mystery blond he’d encountered in high school, and the rest is history.

He had set a goal to earn his own tuition for at least a quarter and ended up paying most of his second year, thanks to some scholarships kicking in.

The next thing he knows the gal stirs in the morning light around his shades and he hears the weekend news program. His clock says 8:07 which is just about right. 

“Morning glory,” he starts.

“Mmmm, this is nice, except, gotta pee.”

She offers a peck, hops up and finds her shirt and ducks into the hallway john. Does that make hers at home a jane?

Nick flips off the stereo and gets halfway decent enough to trek downstairs for his own nature call, but asks,

“You want coffee.”

After a pause, over the stream, “Actually yeah.”

He house-dresses and hits the downstairs half bath, then starts the coffee and eggs for himself. 

Pretty soon she joins him but rounded out with sweat bottoms and what may be his socks, and offers a lingering embrace.

He has to ask, “So I take it you’d planned to stick around here?”

She giggles and shrugs, “Woops.”

“Mmmm hmmm. Doesn’t sound like we’ll get interrogated?”

“Nope.” she pecks his lips and takes a seat as he stirs his eggs.

“Want me to throw in an extra toast?”

“Yeah why not.”

So they do some chewing, she fixes a heavily doctored coffee and he asks,

“When should we head over?”

She holds up a finger to finish a sip, “Whenever, I’ll call over there first. Umm, if you bring your guitar and amp you may be in for yet another surprise.”

In a Jed Clampett tone, “Doggies!”

After a few moments he sees her stare at her mug and grinning.

“What are you thinking?”

She looks up at him with the same grin, “How did we get to this point?”

“I know.”

As Nick puts his plate away, “How bout a little silly TV before we get ready?”

“You got it.”

They set up on the couch and he finds something on the comedy network and they take that in as he plays with her hair, she dozes off a bit, and as the hour wraps up the phone rings.

Nick answers, figuring he’s in for a tricky conversation, but, a female voice “Nick? Is Danni there?”

“Yeah, right here.”

He hands her the phone with a shrug since he can’t quite place it, then heads upstairs and flips on the Icom to see if there’s any waves to catch. There’s the usual stray signals, but also that net they do every morning, mostly to the south and east but he has been meaning to join in, just seems since his license arrived life has really taken on a life of its own. He listens to the net for a couple rounds, nice weather reports from Alabama today, one in Florida, then one in Michigan, all of which more or less match what he sees outside when adjusted for latitude. Need to get a thermometer outside the window, seems his station would stay here a while even if he got his own place or such.

Deej comes in the room with a blank expression and he turns down the receiver.

“Do you mind if she joins us today?”

“April?”

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t recognize her voice for some reason.”

“Well she’s tired…and…sore,” with one eyebrow raised.

Nick looks puzzled.

“From last night…”

“Oh…oh, is that why you girls got quiet and had funny looks on your faces when we came back in.”

This gets a half grin.

“Gotcha.” His blood gets a little cold.

She sighs and looks to the side, “Well it’s pretty much what she wanted, those two joked about blowing off steam and them all ending up at Vance’s.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” She brightens up and sits on his lap, “I’m not killing you am I?”

“You’re just right, babe.”

Pretty soon they head out, and she asks, “Oh, been meaning to ask, wasn’t there a girl at your school who - “

Right then a dog runs out in front of them, Nick swerves and stops in plenty of time but is thankful for a distraction, for now, at least.

An Oasis

Saturday November 6, 1992

Ned and Irene had picked up the Eversoles in the wagon around 6:30 this morning, then Nick was over there as soon as he could after the alarm went of at 7:30 and could scarf down some breakfast. He rings the doorbell and after half a minute Miss April opens the door; last night had been a girlie thing for the three of them. She’s still in whatever she slept in and steps toward him with eyes locked, reaches behind his head, pulls him head down toward hers and she kisses him softly and starts to wiggle her tongue before Nick pulls away, 

“Alright alright.”

April buries her head in his chest and laughs quietly while squeezing around his arms. Nick tries not to notice the lack of brassiere and the expected perkiness. Damn.

“Did she put you up to this?”

She tightens her squeeze momentarily before turning into the house and he follows, seeing no one else, obviously April occupied the couch overnight. 

“She’s in the bathroom.”

“Good morning, by the way.”

“I’ve had better,” she taunts..

“I’ve done worse.”

This was the right response and she lights up as he heads back to knock on the bathroom door,

“Plumbing inspector.”

A startled half-scream emanates from within, then a flush. 

“I hope I didn’t interrupt anything.”

The door swings open as she stands at the sink, hair tied back as he’d expect, nondescript tee shirt, thin, slate-blue sweats, fuzzy slippers that best resemble Tribbles, she even appears all business just washing her hands but he grabs hold of her for a smooch. 

She resists, as expected, “Don’t, morning breath.”

“I brushed mine, gimme gimme gimme.”

He manages to kiss her cheek in what morphs into a once-over then she interrupts, “Let’s let another customer in here, hang on.”

She takes a half capful of Scope, swishes, gargles, spits, yells down the hall, “All yours, Apeshit.”

From the living room, “Is it safe?” 

“He’ll be cowering in my room,” then she drags him into it and locks the door, and promptly resumes the once-over.

After a crazy week Nick remembers how good she feels and it’s been a while since they sustained a liplock for this long, finally he pauses it but holds close, 

“Morning.”

“Morning.”

They peck and Nick fesses, “Your maid tried to slip me the tongue.”

Deej squeezes him and laughs heartily, “Hey no matter where you get your appetite just make sure to get your dinner at home,” then melts into a giggle fit.

“It hasn’t been like this for a while.”

“Mmmm, we get an oasis.”

“And we don’t have to drive to Indiana with another couple.”

“That’s right,” she pecks his nose and squeezes his buns, “OK go flirt with the help and let me get ready, kay?”

“Is she taking Sam?”

“Yeah they’re gonna screw around before she goes to grandparents’.”

“Deal.” He pecks her lips and slips out to the living room where the brunette has tidied up the couch so Nick scoops her up and sets her legs across his lap.

“Hi.”

“What do you want?”

“How’s it going?”

She looks at him for a second, “Better.”

“Good answer. What do you think of Stockton?”

April holds her gaze, gets moderately red and starts to giggle.

“OK sorry I asked.”

She laughs and leans on his shoulder.

“Is he gonna work for you guys?”

“Yeah some, he’ll be on call.”

“Excellent. That cat used to start chants in study hall and we’d join in, surprised no one got suspended, at least that I knew of.”

“Mature.”

“You got a better way to deal with study hall?”

“True.”

“So what’s Brenda like?”

“She thinks you’re a dork.”

“Sounds right. Has she been at the branch?”

“Got a certificate I think, she runs an office in town.”

“Gotcha.”

She pauses a second, “I’m gonna see if Sam’s alive yet,” then pecks him on the cheek and hops up.

“Good call.”

Nick thinks about turning on the TV but, nah, he goes over to Deej’s door, 

“Hon I’m gonna take a stroll around back.”

She giggles.

Nick hears the other girls talking in Sam’s room and yells morning to Sam, gets an appropriately smartass response then heads around the non-garage side of the house, past the bare, winterized flower beds and toward the shed for a look inside.  

Today really is an oasis. Yesterday he had spent entirely in Fred’s back office getting that server stood up, it’s pretty much a two-man job to carry it very far and he already has a workstation set up there to stage the network. On days like that it’s cool enough to be on-call from the school since show-stoppers are pretty rare at this point. Nick hadn’t really been comfortable keeping the equipment at his house anyway and Fred never runs out of banter; it’s just like his other office at the campus but with a different type of clientele in the next room.

The shed is obviously original-issue and would be right at place in his Grandma Joyce’s back yard, but it’s sturdy and gets the job done. There’s a hasp with no lock, he opens it up, half expecting Sam to somehow jump out and scream a surprise, but he just finds the hallowed Farmall mower he’d seen his gal astride on that dreamy bike trip. This shed is definitely homebrew, framed with 2x4s and chip board painted earth brown to match the house, gabled roof with some things resting in the rafters. Floor appears to be concrete blocks on gravel, classic. 

From behind him, “Find a good a makeout spot in there finally?”

Nick casually turns around to find his tall strawberry donned in the long denim skirt, flats, classic white blouse and her good coat, and one of those plastic headbands that keeps it behind her ears.

“You look great.”

“Thank you, dear.”

Nick had gone a little extra himself today with a decent sweater and jeans and the brown leather shoes, the stuff he only wears to work when they expect suited visitors in the building.

He closes up the shed and takes her hand and leads her toward the crawlspace door he’d helped her with.

After a pause, “Hon I can’t say it enough, sorry for making you do that, with the pickle jar.”

She sighs, “Sweetie…my phone has a dialer too you know. I wasn’t ready.”

“Same here.”

She pulls him in for a squeeze, which they hold in silence for a bit then head around front.

Sam is ready for the day, she and the brunette in cute hoodies and pigtails and standing at attention as Deej grabs her purse and bag. 

“You gonna lock up?” She asks her sister, “And leave that lamp on?”

“M’AAM yes M’AAM.” Then she turns to Nick, “Be sure to put a helmet on that soldier, soldier!”

April remains at attention but flushes and fights a laugh with everything she has.

Deej fires back, “I’ll deal with your kind later, punk.”

As she and Nick turn to the door Sam goes on, “She leaves a girl to return a woman. Amen.”

They both salute, Sam begins whistling When Johnny Comes Marching Home as April echoes as a Southern Belle, 

“Ayyye-meyeennn, sister.”

While pulling the door shut Deej rumbles, “Get me outta here before I knock their damn heads together.”

“We gowwne,” Nick assures as he heads to open her door then the hatch for her things.

Once on the road, he inquires, “Just what do they think we’re doing today?”

“Doesn’t matter, they’re two losers without dates, so…well, at least the younger one, the freak.”

Nick thinks a second. “Payback will be a bitch, won’t it?”

“I’m already on it.”

“Just suremakin’.”

She smiles and looks over, “I love it when you do that.”

They clasp hands until he needs both to get them to the grocery, where into the cart goes a pound of hamburger, four potatoes, two cans of green beans, an onion, two cans of tomato soup, and so on. There’s bread at the house that Nick can’t wait to put in the meat grinder for crumbs. Although, Deej asks if they can try it with rice and so they’ll go with that since there should be some.  

After the grocery they hit a drive through for a 32-oz Budweiser, to which she remarks,

“Next time we’ll try wine.”

Nick agrees, drives on but sees a truck blocking his normal turn so cuts through a neighborhood, where a few houses in they see an oder woman bending over to scoop up some leaves. He honks at the very instant they are directly passing her. Deej covers her mouth, turns toward the window and laughs to herself.

He speaks up, “You smell nice, too.” She’s wearing the recently exhumed perfume he’d given her all those years ago.

She keeps her head toward the window but reaches back to clasp his hand.

Back at the empty, corner-lot Swanson Cape Cod on a cool, sunny morning our heroes get to work. Nick washes and cuts up the taters (Deej points out the nutrition in the skins so they avoid peeling). Deej puts on the rice and gets a crock pot ready for taters and beans then tracks down a pan to grease up for the meatloaf. Once the taters are peeled and the quick rice is done (she would have preferred the traditional kind but no one keeps that on hand) Nick is once again pressed into service to stir up the meat, rice, onions and fixins and get every last bit of it onto the wax paper so she can form it into the pan to set in the fridge, for now, next to said 32-oz Budweiser.

After they wash their hands and flick each other with rinse water Deej ends up on the couch first, props her feet on the hassock and yawns. 

“Serves you right for partying all night.”

“Yeah Sam was smart and went to bed after dozing off - OH, I got a treat, grab my purse.”

Nick complies then takes the seat next to her after she pats on the space to her left. She places the purse to her right then digs through it some, fusses with something then, 

“Okay, long story short, after Sambutt turned in…um, we had a Polaroid.”

“Oh God.”

She laughs maniacally, “Got your eyes peeled yet?”

Nick takes a breath and beholds a shot of Deej, from the rear, lounging on her side without a stitch on.

She looks at him expectantly as he raises his eyebrow. 

“Damn.”

Next shot is sitting up and giving a seductive look while angled at the side. He thinks he can see a bit of bush but doesn’t feel it’s polite to look. She pauses, then, taunts, 

“Need your glasses?”

“They’d just steam up.”

She nudges his elbow then flips to the next, on her side facing with an innocent smile. 

“I’m afraid to see what’s next.”

She flips to one on her knees, from behind but with her shoulders turned toward the camera.

“Giving you any ideas yet?”

“Hmmmm.”

She feels his groin, “Mmmm hmm,” then flips to the next shot, in which she’s full facing, on her knees but covering her own groin with her hands, bosoms are visible but the expression is priceless.

“Honey your expressive eyes are what kill.”

She flips to the final while watching his face, this time it’s April. 

“Oh my….”

Deej laughs quietly. She’s completely nude, body facing away but head turned at the camera with a whatcha-gonna-do expression and shielding her bosoms.

“She wanted you to have this. Anything more will cost ya though.”

“Oh I bet it would.”

Deej pecks him on the cheek and hands him the collection of six.

Nick quickly puts the bonus pic on the bottom, “That one will go in the Trotters box.”

“Mmmm hmm, and what about the others?”

“There’s room beneath the mattress.”

Deej bursts in to a release of maniacal laughter as he sets them carefully on a stand, then he asks, 

“So what’s your read on the other night?”

“Oh Lombos? Yeah I’m pretty sure Brenda wasn’t terribly impressed either way but she got an eyeful of Curt, girls will be girls.”

“Yeah she seems like more of a party-er.”

“Could be, but has her head on, we’ll see. Curt may have gotten her number.”

“I’d kinda bet on it. He’d be a bit…advanced…for our April.”

“True true. She’s really…I mean, you can tell, she can get pretty…lonely.”

“Best I know to do is put in some laundry and set her on the washer.”

“WHAT?” Deej must have been waiting for a cue. She grabs him around the arms and throws him onto the couch then maintains a warrior expression while, despite his half-hearted struggling, pins his elbows down and digs her chin into his sternum.

She goes into a line he’d related from some wrestlers at school…

“Bowahh…I…have…had…enough…of…yoww…SHIYAAAT…knowwatayemeeeen?”

All this time he’s able to try for the boobs and gets in a fingertip swipe now and then. Pride starts to set in a bit but he can’t think of a way to get free, so he goes psych,

“You look like that dude in the Shining.”

Deej grunts, then starts working her way down his front, unpins his elbows then quickly lifts up his sweater then blows on his belly, over and over with a lot of slobber as he squirms, but squeaks out,

“I’m gonna do something like that to you latter.”

“Mmmm.” She relents and slides back up to lie on his shoulder. After a few seconds, “Did I ever tell you that I sucked my thumb till about sixth grade? 

“No way.”

“Just in my room. It helped me get to sleep.”

“And led to braces?”

“Bite my ass.”

“Later.”

She giggles, then, “Sometimes when we’re like this I almost suck my thumb.”

“But other times you end up - nevermind.”

This earns him a front wedge, but after he readjusts she stays quiet and they relax a while, then eventually he asks,

“When do we put that meat loaf in?”

“Mmm, you do mean lunch right? (giggles) Oh it takes about an hour, then, a few to cool down.”

Nick peeks at the VCR, “Wanna slide it in and play some rummy?”

“Oooh, yeah, used to play that with grandpa. Tried to get him to teach me euchre but (in a mock male voice) gotta have four players.”

“Yeah I never got the hang of those games with the tricks.”

“Alright little britches, find some cards and I’ll get the stove hot (giggles) - hey, can we have some tunes?”

Nick finds a well-worn pack of Bicycle poker cards in a drawer and grabs a tape from upstairs, the earlier Great White Once Bitten taped from library vinyl, lo these many years ago.

Nick deals first and they agree to 500 points to win (or whenever the meat loaf is done), number cards five, royals ten a piece, aces fifteen regardless of how used. Play anything off each other, straights, sets, and grab as far back in the discard pile as long as you use the furthest one back and keep the rest. It’s what some would call dirty rummy but hey they ain’t here so who gives a fat hairy flip. 

The first hand lasts three tracks into the tape and Nick has to pause a bit when Rock Me starts, the bass, harp, bluesy elegance. 

“Always loved this song.”

“Play it for me.”

“I know the key, would like to.”

It turns out Deej knows just how to play footsie while completely focused on the game and sipping 7-Up. They don’t converse much, she just bobs her head from side to side in tune to whatever tempo comes along, but at the last track he prefaces, 

“Ever heard this one?”

“Maybe, sounds familiar.”

“Once I heard it on shortwave, out of New Orleans and it was mesmerizing.”

“Mmmm, it’s pretty.”

“I really need to learn it.”

“Yes you do.”

“Sam could figure out most of it.”

Deej points at him in agreement then lays down all her cards. At this point she’s still fifteen points behind. But who’s counting.

His deal again, and he finds his old Heart tape from ‘85 that he bought with mowing money. Not surprisingly, she now sings along while playing footsie and squeezing every point possible from her cards.

The meatloaf comes out in the middle of the hand so they make it the last even though Nick is up by 90 but hints he’ll make it up to her in other ways. 

“Oh well,” she grins and stares at her cards.

Final tally before lunch has him up by 75, she goes out first but Nick had more on the table, as usual. By now lunch has the house smelling wonderful, as a grandma would always say (probably a lot of our grandmas would say), nothing does that like a meat loaf. 

Taters are tender and they joke about going in to catering.

Nick observes, “This would be great with a little kraut.”

“God, you should have been there when they boiled all that cabbage, Sam and I stayed with grandparents that one night, even with the windows open it was unbearable.”

“Did you think they’d lost their minds?”

She shakes her head and pauses, “Let’s just say we’re in better days now.”

Nick leaves it at that.

“Although I see that jar is down a bit, do you make that many reubens?”

“It’s a go-to on leftover nights, sometimes weekends.”

“Do you keep the corned beef and everything?”

“Any lunch meat will do.”

“I’m almost hoping your folks can get a whiff of this meatloaf, they might have hope in you yet.”

“Science can only -”

“I know, I know.”

The table is cleaned, leftovers stashed away and they decide on Princess Bride, which he’d grabbed from the ol’ liberry to aid while digesting. Nick lets her doze off and probably does as well, but just after Wesley ‘dies’ he offers coffee, she declines and he makes himself an instant and brings the oreos over. During the wedding scene, Nick insists that if they ever get hitched they have to get this guy to do the ceremony. 

Deej says she’ll pray about it.

Once the movie wraps up she looks at him expectantly, which brings to mind the photographs lying on the end table.

Nick scoops them up, “I better get these to a safe place.”

She follows him up the stairs and stretches out on the bed as he retrieves the Trotters box. He thinks to ask, 

“Did you ever finish all these old letters?”

“Mmmmmm hmmmm.”

He glances over and she’s watching her finger as it makes little figure eights on his bed. Since they have time stretching into the evening he might as well play some guitar, so he flips on the amp and takes a stab at some Great White, starting by a stum and arpeggio of E minor. This sounds close to Save Your Love at least. By fidgeting around some he remembers a variant in his old book and tries it, ahh, that ninth, kinda sounds like the M*A*S*H theme (although it isn’t).

Nick gradually picks up on the fact that she has been undoing the snaps of her long skirt, trying to sneak it when he’s concentrating on the frets, and after the fourth one the tension is just right, 

“Need some help there?”

She just smiles expectantly.

Nick puts down the ax, flips off the amp and takes the space on the twin bed facing her and takes her hand,

“You wore that for a reason.”

She kisses him, he joins for a long while before reaching for the remaining snaps, he adds a caress in between each snap, she starts to undo her blouse at about the same pace. His mind thinks back, and he blurts out, 

“How did you get so good at softball?”

“Later.”

He keeps munching, unsnapping, then it’s time for a changeup, he moves his mouth along her neck for just a bit, down through the center of the chest, and to her abdomen, stays there and resumes the last few snaps.  

“You’re getting close to some classified areas,” she admonishes.

“I’m a special agent.”

She blurts out a laugh that he can’t discern is a scoff or not, either way, the skirt comes across and he moves on top of her and by some unknown force her freshly-shaven legs take their place over his shoulders. He removes his sweater then takes her hands as he munches her inner thighs, then she speaks up, trepidly,

“Can we soak now?”

“You Okay?”

“I just want to savor this.”

“Good call.”

Deej hops up in her bikini-ish state and Nick looks her over. 

“What?”

“God, you’re sculpted, can tell you been running, girl.”

She demurs with a smile, then glances away, clears her throat, “You start the water then I’ll pee.”

“Howbout save it and make me a fountain?”

Her eyes rage. “Nicholas!”

“It was your idea…kinda….”

“But…in the water?”

“It’s just salts.”

She winces and exhales, “true.”

“Besides it’s best to be in the tub as you fill it so you get it the right temp.”

She lets that rattle, “Good point, alright, you get it started and I’ll get a candle going.”

“You’re the best, babe.”

She proceeds down the stairs and he has to ogle a bit before starting the bath, which he starts with some shea butter bubble bath that he slips onto the grocery list so he doesn’t have to make a special trip, although, yes it’s better to let a female get that stuff. Nick whips off his remaining garments into his room and meets her in the buff as she ascends the stairs with that expectant look of hers. He takes his seat opposite the faucet and she draws the curtain, and pretty soon he sees a light flickering and the door closes. It’s mighty hard not to tingle at a time like this. Within a few seconds the opposite end of the curtain moves his way and she peeks at his face, then his naughty bits, then takes a careful step into the water.

“Ooooh, just right. You’ll get a big tip.”

Nick just watches as she gracefully gets both feet in and stands there with hands on hips, and, oh, pony tail on top, then,

“Care to join me?”

She gracefully seats herself on the wall, “Ooh cold”, then braces herself on both sides to lower her bum first, splashes her legs a bit then leans back. 

“Hmm, I can tell your junior partner is glad to see me.”

Nick just takes a deep breath, then, “cut that off whenever you want hon.”

She uses her foot to easily swipe the shower handle off then leans back against him with a knee on each side.

“Watch the phone start ringing off the hook,” he muses.

“Armageddon wouldn’t get me out of here, wow.”

He takes her hands, then,

“So just how did you get so good at softball?”

“Why that, of all things?”

“You were a different person out there, a star, then you’d come up and talk to lil ‘ol me.”

“Well I had this really cute fan that made me tapes.”

“Crap, a competitor.”

“Not really,” then reaches for a peck.

“Mmmm, that camping trip.”

“Oh yeah, you guys came out for a night in the tents.”

She draws a deep breath. “Nicky…that night was...absolutely...perfect.”

“What, running around the playground?”

She tears up a bit and sniffs.

“Sweetie-”

“I kept wondering if you were gonna take us into the big concrete - tile?”

“Oh yeah, bad memories.”

“We could have made good ones.”

“Well, I was kinda led in there the year before and she got nasty, then apologized, OH and then ended up at the branch off and on, still see her once in a while.”

“So I could have drug your ass in there?”

“I wasn’t ready to make moves. Did we even do any real kissing, was just like, almost kissing.”

She sighs. “It counts, and you have your ways, Nick Swanson, you make more moves than you realize…far more.”

“It felt like we were headed somewhere, I didn’t know where.”

“Here.”

She slowly turns around for a more substantial liplock then melts out of it. “I’m shaking.”

“I feel like a slug wondering if that fountain is ready.”

She giggles, “Mmm, okay, you get the honors,” then lifts her legs back. 

Nick hesitates then gently reaches down, down there, and eases the groomed, glistening lips back, then whispers, “OK?”

She gently sighs then it starts, shimmering in the candlelight, rising 6 or 8 inches and cascading onto his fingers. 

“Oh my,” is all he can muster out. The tingles are back.

She seems to be pushing for a good show, and it starts to wane after a few seconds, then suddenly: a quack.

“Dammit!” She drives her head back into her shoulder. “You should probably ignore that.”

“Worse has happened in here.”

This sends her into gales of laughter. 

Nick enjoys her laughter and takes her hands again. “Speaking of the tape…”

“I would love to.”

Nick starts exploring her, the arms, elbows, tummy, says hi to the girls, 

“Is there any extra charge for this?”

This earns a splash in the face for which he has to blow out his nose, hnnnnn hnnnnnnshpch.

“There’s extra charge for snot in the water.”

Once he can breathe again he resumes, she lets him caress her thighs and return to the downtown area, which he explores in earnest to give her some good vibes. She gets into it for a bit then takes his hands, 

“Let’s heat up the water one more time, then…”

“Deal.”

So she foots some hot water and gets comfortable leaning against him, and before long he admits.

“I almost wrote you a letter this week.”

“Mmmm?”

“Sometimes I wish we could just have a space for just us, no bodies, no family, no work, no school, just…us. This is the closest I’ve ever known to that.”

She pulls his hand to her face and holds it there.

They keep still for a bit longer, till the water grows cool and after they each probably doze off, just momentarily, a time or two. Nick lets her make the call, when finally, 

“Okay sport, my bum is numb.”

“Hopefully there’s two towels in here.”

It turns out there are, and pretty soon they are dry enough to stretch out on the bed where he arranges a touche massage. Then a tongue massage. At one point he takes a swipe at her backdoor and she gasps. 

“Nick!”

After this he cups her buns, caresses her hips and signals her to roll over so he can start face to face again, pretty soon working down the coast to spend time with the twins, and he notices for the first time how they twitch a little, when suckled. Then, for whatever reason her tummy is fascinating. Gradually he works further southward, which draws an admonishment, 

“I’m not responsible for any gushing.”

For this he licks the very tip of her hood and she emits a muffled shriek. 

Gradually he starts in, she tastes of ambrosia, dark, spicy, like the time he tried a bite of rum cake up at Pap’s but wasn’t allowed a whole piece. But now he’s got the full piece, and times like this he has to remember not to be in a hurry, and remember lessons learned, but at times, throw out the book. He caresses her thighs, wow, this feels like worship, and if so, guess that makes him a heretic.

It doesn’t take long to lock into a rhythm, biting the lips now and then, probe into the tart darkness, she’s getting closer and he plays it safe by staying toward the top, sounds like a sneeze is about here, sure enough, the squirt is a few milliseconds before the 

PUFF

She exhales and he knows to quit, so he pecks her hood then discreetly wipes his chin with one hand, then grabs a blanket to cover them both up. Naturally she’s in the center and he has to wake her momentarily but she warily turns over onto his shoulder and sleeps about 20 minutes, such a wonderful sound against a gentle autumn breeze outside. Once again he expects the phone to ring, but it doesn’t.

Nick has probably dozed off himself when she stirs, 

“Mmm,” and plants one on his chest, then reaches for his business. “What do you want?”

“Just…don’t stop.”

And so she doesn’t stop, she scoots down to place her girls over it a bit while teasing the tip with her tongue, then generously returns the favor, which at this point doesn’t take long, and she seems to purposefully collect the product as he melts into the earth, then she rises up, swallows, then burps. Nick can only grin during the ensuing fit of giggles she has caused herself.

Gang Of Six

Thursday November 4, 1992

The gang of six sits at back table at Lombo’s with two on an end. An April is between Deej and the one and only Curt Stockton. Next to Nick is a Vance and next to him is a friend of April’s, a Brenda, somewhat outgoing and not at all bad looking, maybe a couple years older than him, as she takes it all in.

The week started with a late afternoon meeting at Pro Digital where he got to meet the fastidious and formidable Lorena Hahn, the silent but sensible junior partner as per the divorce decree, or so it seems. Fred set up the meeting and Nick offered to set up a demo but that wouldn’t be necessary. Instead he found Lorena pleasant and more than a little approving.

“Nick I’m surprised you didn’t ask for an advance,” then hands him an envelope. 

It turns out she has been acquainted with Sue Richards over the years and was tickled to find out one of her students was doing this upgrade.

With the biggest smile he’d seen yet, “I also understand you’re seeing our Danielle?”

“We’ve been friends since junior high.”

“I see, well give her my best, as you know she’s very bright and capable, you better hang on.”

“I couldn’t have said it better myself.”

Nick held onto that check until Wednesday morning when he was able to deposit it, but remains resolute to hang onto those funds until the new shop environment was on it’s feet running like a stallion and most of the burps and farts worked out. He can’t imagine things going so terribly that he’d have to forfeit the payment, but still.

He hadn’t seen Deej very much save for her full work day Tuesday when he’d stuck around till 6, having voted in the morning, and was able to stay on the clock with some things. He got to the gym a few minutes early and found her closing things up and in a giggly mood.

“You’ll never guess who popped by this afternoon.”

“Ahhnold?”

“Almost…that muscle mass who squeezed your head at Lombo’s?”

“Stockton? I wondered if he’d turn up at some point.”

“Well he turned up and signed up with his military ID, then hit the iron - OH, yeah he plans to enroll next term, GI bill I think.”

“Ohh man. Did he behave?”

They are on their way to his car, she continues, 

“Yeah was a little flirty at first but I mentioned seeing you and he dialed it down, but…guess who I called while he was in?”

“Noreen?”

She smacks his arm and makes a buzzer sound.

“I know I know…bonus babe.”

“DING DING DING…bonus babe found time to casually stop by about the time his hour was up, oh Nick you should have seen our girl.”

“Gushy?”

“Not at all, well, maybe she hid it, it was something, hand on a hip, looks him in the eye and asks if he wants some roofing work.”

“No shit? Bob would cream his jeans.”

“You know it, but you should have heard the…after he left she stood next to me and whispered comments.”

“Do I wanna know?”

“I was - you know how I blush, just glad we weren’t busy.”

“That juicy?”

Deej looks around. “Along the lines of, he could just lie there and I’d play sit and spin.”

Nick doubles over and has to hobble to a light post to steady himself.

Deej just covers her mouth and quivers, flushed again, “I know! She’s too much.”

Soon they walk on and Deej starts a hearty once-over at her Grand Am’s passenger door, “I could jump you in the back seat, but…”

“Saturday?” Nick discretely finds a bosom.

“Mmmmm.” She looks him in the face, plants a peck, then smacks his arse as she heads over to the driver side.

And so, as girl-magic goes this evening came together. Nick tries to gauge if Vance has any interest in the interesting Brenda as she throws a few questions his way, time will tell. For now it’s a couple shared pies and pitchers, the males agree to divvy up the check.

They moment Nick and Deej are in his car to take her home she observes,

“You were quiet tonight.”

“Just going with the flow.”

“What do you think of Brenda?”

“Well…”

“Spit it out Swanson.”

Nick looks over at her to convey earnestness, “I was secretly hoping to hear tales of hot dates with her.”

Silence.

Nick looks over to find an expectant smile. “Well, you asked.”

“That I did, but I get it, even if they just blew off some steam it would do him some good.”

“Yeah, he needs someone to start the conversation.”

She pauses. “Is something on your mind lately?”

Nick sighs. “Just trying to make sense of it all.”

“Yeah I get that.”

“I just hope that we, you and I…that we really speak the same language.”

Now Deej sighs and slips a hand under his right arm. “I think we do babe.”  She pauses, then, “Can we still take a walk at Sears?”

And they do, but mostly just in the main aisles. At some point she asks,

“Can you believe Clinton won?”

Nick pauses, “I’m not sure what to think of it all, sounds like we’re getting a fresh start, for better or worse, richer or poorer.”

“Yeap the country gets remarried every few years, we went with the mystery date.” She pauses. “What do you think of his wife?”

Nick pauses longer, “Dunno, feels like she’s hiding something.”

“But you voted for him?”

“Yeah, mostly to shake things up.”

“There’s a lot of that going around these days huh?”

He pecks her on the cheek and they stroll on.

Back at the Eversoles’ they find the familiar scene of everyone in their own space and Sam camped out with books and papers on the couch, big paper in the works. Biiiiiig paper. Nick finds space next to her and she leans on him for a minute.

“How goes?”

“Well, um…a lot of details to sort out, is this easier with a computer?”

“Depends on how well you use a computer.”

“That’s not till next semester! I put it off.”

Nick thinks a second, “Well as long as you learn before college you’ll be set.”

“I hope we get one here, maybe you can help set it up?”

“I’ll check my schedule.”

This gets a smile and a playful jab on the jib from the blond mop.

Deej comes out in her house clothes and probably ready for a shower, it had been a long-ass 8-6 day for them both then onto pizza, maybe that’s why Nick was quiet, but it was good. He had managed to catch a couple catnaps during the day which helps balance things out; a trick he’d learned as a student. 

They step outside for a quick goodbye since it’s chilly and they promise to enjoy classical tonight in their respective spaces.

Night Fright

Summer 1978

Nick and Tim fight over the flashlight they have to share as the other kids are running to and from the woods. Ned told them not to let the batteries go dead although Paps seems to have no problems supplying more from a drawer in his Covered Wagon hardtop. 

They had slept in a tent as guests on Paps and Gramma’s lot where they were club members at the Griddle Greasers’ campground. This weekend the grounds takes its turn to host two other clubs in an annual jamboree of sorts with a huge picnic and the biggest wood pile that Nick had ever seen in a firepit, stacked as high as a door - at least. And true to their name there are a LOT of pancakes poured on Sunday morning with corresponding counts of sausage links.

By late afternoon the grounds had filled up with RVs pulled by pickups and station wagons, and with each hour there were more kids roaming around, and as the grownups mingle the woods grows more haunted as the sun sets further. They had already explored the mostly-open lot behind the clubhouse, at the other end of the trail, where some older kid asked to point their flashlight at a few trees to try and locate someone, but they weren’t behind the first tree, nor the second, nor the third, so the kid thanked them and moved on.

The family had all walked the trail before the place got so crowded, with the boys out in front playing with sticks and not allowed to go out too far ahead, the usual, but now, well, to Nick it’s a black wall, but, it’s where everything seems to be going down tonight. 

And of course, Tim wants to hold the flashlight and leads the trepidatious trek back in.

Nick is torn, since it’s too dark to run back to the meeting hall by himself. So, by default he follows his brother into the void and tries to ignore the goosebumps, step by step, crunch by crunch, past the outhouse with the moon on the door, between the first trees. Once they are in just a few feet another flashlight appears further in and Nick nearly blacks out, then they hear voices, teenage sounding, who eventually just run past them holding their own flashlights to their faces and make scary noises as they pass. Nick swallows hard then keeps following Tim, a few more steps then a voice behind them almost sends him to the moon, 

“Hey, turn off your flashlight or you’ll get night fright.”

Tim blows it off, “Yeah right.”

Nick turns around to see a strange reddish glow nearly at face level, actually, someone’s hand over a flashlight, but that’s all it takes, 

“WAHHHHHHGGGGGHHHHHH!!” 

Nick somehow runs around whomever is behind him and instinctively flails his arms to find any brush but manages to clear the opening and see the clubhouse pole lights, passes the regular-sized fire pit near their campsite and before long the enormous campfire comes into view, just has to dodge some shadows, then he passes the big pit, no longer screaming but, wait, where the hell are his folks?

Someone stops him, “Hey are you lost?”

Nick ignores the man and keeps running around, there are groups in lawn chairs, kids on the swingset, where would they be? 

He heads into the clubhouse and manages to find Paps sitting with some cohorts and runs up to him.

“Hey there partner, oh, wow, looks like you had a little trouble, let’s find your momma.”

As Paps scoops him up, Nick realizes his shorts are wet.

* * * * *

Earlier that spring something had appeared in his kindergarten room, or, maybe dropped from the heights of heaven: a collection of life-sized tinker-toys, well, not an entire set but some rods that were as long as he was tall and then the round spoke-hub thingies.

Whenever he could hog Tim’s set at home he spent hours trying to make an airplane, sometimes he tried for a huge airliner but usually settled for a Cessna/Piper kind of thing – or at least what he could convince himself as such. 

And so, Mrs. Sully announces that she would pick six who wanted a turn (according to show of hands) and Nick’s heart nearly stood still, she was picking those who could sit the most still and quiet, and he closed his eyes as he folded his hands, as if during prayer in Sunday School.

Pretty soon she calls out the names, all male, no surprise, “Jerry, Trent, Brent, Tony, Scott, and Nick.”

Nick looks up and locks eyes with Mrs. Sully and sees she gets a sense of how much he wants this.

And so he expresses his intent to Trent and they go to work planning this contribution to aeronautical history, gonna need five rods for the wings, but wait – umm, there aren’t any long enough, well, there has to be three different lengths to form a right-triangle. Oh, man, maybe we just...OK so just two rods, one for each wing then, well, three hub thingies then what about a tail? So the short rod would be the...body then, yeah another hub thingy for the tail, then there should be short rods for the tail. That should be a start then they can use the two wheels for a landing gear.

But alas, another complication is quickly evident as the remaining four are amusing themselves by making barbells out of what would be the wheels and axle, and then a tail piece and two of the badly needed spoke hubs for another barbell. 

Nick tries in vain to get their attention, “Hey let’s make an airplane,” but as usual, those types just don’t hear. 

Gramma Joyce

Sunday November 1, 1992

Nick rides shotgun as Ned drives with the game on just the front speakers. Irene, stretched out in the back seat solemnly working a crossword puzzle, had gotten a message while they were at home group and ended up talking to her older brother Steve for over an hour, more than they’d talked the past several years put together.

Trips to see his grandma Joyce were, to say the least, eventful, and somewhat rare; it was though she lived much further away. Nick remembers a couple of visits where Irene would go in first then signal Ned to bring in the boys after a few minutes. Over the years it became clear that Joyce usually started drinking as soon as her soaps were over, during the week of course, then on weekends it was a roll of the dice. 

Visits were also timed for when the younger brother Andrew was, well, maybe at the VA hospital, staying with a…friend, or just not around. Joyce didn’t keep phone numbers written down anywhere, or else would hide them too well to be of use, since Andy had the tendency to dial numbers and practice his improvisational skills. 

From what Nick could tell, Steve planned to make sure Andy was occupied today since he had concerns about Joyce becoming more forgetful than usual, as a mixed blessing, even seemingly forgetting to drink. Since her second husband Roger had died when Nick was a kid it seemed her life was all about dealing with Andy’s situation, hell, Andy pretty much is a situation in and of himself. 

They arrive and and slowly approach the windowless door of the small, plain peach-colored house with no eaves, just gutters on the front and back. The flowerbeds are overgrown and ridden with weeds soon to mercifully be euthanized by winter’s grip. Irene presses the doorbell but it doesn’t make a sound, at least that they can hear, so she knocks. After about twenty seconds, 

“Who’s there?”

“Mom it’s Irene, can we come in?”

Coughing, then, “Helene who?”

“Irene, mom, it’s your daughter.”

The door pops open, “Well hi there, oh you brought some boys.”

They proceed inside while the gals do all the talking and quickly realize there’s nowhere to sit down. Newspapers, magazines are piled everywhere and dirty dishes line he kitchen. The aroma of cigarette smoke is almost welcome compared to what it must be covering up. There is a well-worn recliner with an obviously broken footrest and covered by a dirty afghan. She had been watching something on the TV that’s pretty loud and Ned tries to discreetly shut it off,

“Oh shut that damn thing off so we can talk,” Joyce barks out in a stern manner but with friendly intentions.

Ned finds the power switch then looks around. 

“Do any of you want something to drink?” Joyce, short, stocky and graying, faces them in a glass-eyed haze and can’t seem to find any of them.

Irene covers them, “Oh we’re fine, Mom, we were out on a drive and thought we’d stop by.” 

“Oh ok, well see…oh, you’re Ned, so good to see you. And this is your boy?”

“This is Nick, our youngest,“ he confirms. 

“Hi Gramma, good to see you.”

“Oh, you’re getting so handsome, can I have a hug?”

Nick gives her a hug while trying to catch up with it all. She used to send cards on holidays but not birthdays.

“I bet you have a lot of girlfriends,” as she pokes him on the chest.

“Only the ones that can catch me,” which gets a coughing laugh. Oh my.

Irene jumps in and Ned taps Nick on the shoulder, and motions toward the door, as they were asked to take a look around the place. 

Once outside Ned starts, “You’re a soldier for coming along, you didn’t have to.”

“Just felt I should.”

“Well it’s going to be a rough road, she’s only in her sixties but I think you know how that goes.”

“Yeah.”

They turn the corner, “I guess Andy has these streaks and keeps up the place now and then, at least.”

“He’d need a few of those streaks back to back at this point.”

“Yeah, gonna need a new roof soon.”

They stop in the tundra-like back yard which hadn’t been mowed in a while, plain as day save for a rough rectangular patch about 20 by 30 feet, to which Ned points out, 

“I think ol’ Rog had a garden back here that never got seeded, just grew over like those damn flowerbeds.”

They head around the side toward the tiny single-car detached garage and lift up the door. Inside it is a ‘73 Maverick with four flat tires, an open trunk with various parts inside, and too much junk to walk around it. Nick gets the dark feeling there’s a stash of smutty magazines somewhere in here but would never have the nerve nor desire to find out.

“She used to drive that.”

“Would make a cool project.”

Ned laughs, “That’s the spirit.”

“Should we rescue Mom?”

Ned sighs “Let’s get at it.”

Back inside they find Irene showing Joyce a photo album and pointing out who everyone is. Nick takes one last look around and zeroes in on what he was subconsciously looking for, the photo that he’d only seen a few times of a young corporal, Thadeus Rutledge, one of the first to fall in Korea.

* * * * *

“So she’s just super hot?” Deej is lit up as can be.

“Yeah, Steve married her after, well, his first wife got pregnant and he wouldn’t have it.”

She makes a disgusted look.

“That’s a good chunk of why Mom doesn’t talk to him often, and just does his own thing, travels for work, all that.”

“So he remarried Debbie and she’s younger?”

“When we were little, around kindergarten he got to meet a local pageant winner and the rest is history.”

“Wow you had a day.”

Nick had the back seat on the quiet ride home after lunch with Steve and Debbie and was able to doze off then took Deej to Subway after a bike ride to clear his head some.

“Yeah, so it makes sense why Mom was always closer to Dad’s family since hers was…”

“And her younger brother, Andy, you used to talk about him?”

“Yeah probably in a mean way, he was at the VFW. I guess they won’t sell him booze, he has to win drinks at pool or such.”

“Wow.”

“The place is not being kept up so it’s up to Mom and Steve to figure out options, hopefully he’s not gonna be cheap about it.”

“Well he did reach out to your mom at least.”’

“Yeah, we’ll see.”

“So…Debbie…still got it huh?”

“Oh man, yeah, I guess at first Mom thought she was just some trollop in for the good life but they’re still together, but then we only know their side of it. She brought a bunch of pictures, their place, dogs, vacations.”

“And wore tight jeans.”

“Yeah, it was something else, she likes to hug full body too, and free with the complements, was just…a lot.”

“Probably a mixed blessing.”

“I’d appreciate anything you can do to fix the weirdness.”

Deej puts her ankles around his, “We’ll see what we can arrange.”

Without thinking, Nick had gotten a tuna since that’s the first thing he ever had from Subway, and she’d already warned him he better drink a lot of Sprite after finishing it.

“So how is your mom?”

Nick takes a deep breath, “About what you’d expect…it was in the back of our minds, you know, all the alcoholism and smoking, just a house of cards.”

“Sounds like your gramma and Andy are codependent.”

Nick chuckles thoughtfully, “Yeah…yeah a good way to put it. The poor dummy just never grew up.”

They each take a few pensive sips. 

“Wanna come say hi to Mom?”

“Yeah.”