Going Home

Sunday Dec 6, 1992

During lunch leftovers at the Swanson house the phone rings. It’s Deke.

Not surprisingly our heroes slept well after they tried to watch reruns only to succumb to shenanigans, highlighted by Miss DJ refusing to be outdone at being teased for the good part of an hour on the trip home from the boxing, and so Nick was subjected to a slow burn. But they wisely moved their operations to a blanket on the floor to avoid some awkwardness and help ensure they didn’t fall asleep and but rather end up in separate rooms, you know, for good measure.

And so the morning had been a check of the airwaves and some gin rummy downstairs until this point. Irene led a Scripture-devotional for herself and Ned but within earshot, so our heroes kept mostly quiet during the games, which Deej had won handily this time.

“Hey man, you still alive these days? You been working too hard on that contract?”

Nick takes the cordless out of the room since he’ll have to explain something in the next few breaths.

“Yeah, the fall really kicked in and I lost track of time - you doin’ OK?

“Oh, I’m great, and got some things to run past you in fact, been makin’ plans, junior - got some time this week, or even today?”

“Actually, yeah, we’re just hangin’ out, yesterday we packed up my mom’s mom’s house, she has to move to a nursing home.”

“Oh I’m sorry to hear that Nicko, that’s pretty tough - you can fill me in on that.”

“Sure thing, well, I can head over soon but, well, my girl is here - actually, different girl now from the summer, long story but it all worked out.”

“Oh…OHHH, damn dude, you move fast!”

“Actually I told you about her over the years, Danni, from the church school.”

“OH the tall strawberry blond? You DOWG, hey bring her with you if you two are serious, since, well, you’ll see.”

Nick pauses a minute and knows better than to make sure he’s cool with her coming along.

“Sounds great, we’re finishing up lunch, got any of that ice tea?”

“Ha not today but I’ll put on a pot of coffee and have some pie in the fridge.”

“Deal! You still know how to bargain, Deke.”

“Alright my man, give your folks my best and see you soon.”

And so Deej, true to form, scrambles to get her spare jeans from her car and raids Nick’s closet for a decent “top” before fussing with her hair, which evidently takes longer now that the bangs are growing out. Nick just thinks it looks kinda hot in her trademark understated way, although, deep down he’s glad she’s not heavily endowed in the chest to where she’ll stretch out his shirts.

Once a few blocks away Nick is greeted with a shoulder hug and Deej is greeted by a barrage of grief for claiming this ne’er do well, in fact, pretty quickly they are bonding over the whole church-house fiasco from five years ago, but alas, Nick just grins; there’s far worse ways to pay one’s dues and none could be this fun.

They tactfully catch him up on Noreen and how things worked out in recent weeks, and their plans, although, granted Nick’s are a bit more open-ended at this point.

So Deke poses this, “So Nicky, you still work at the campus - wonderful place - do you feel like you still have purpose there, one way or another, or is this freelance gig with Fred gonna take off?”

Nick draws a breath, “Right now it’s a mixture of both, but yeah, if we get more clients here or there then I’d move on from the lab tending. I’d still like to get a bachelors though, even if it’s just a few hours at a time.”

“That’s good,” then Deke grins, “Are those buildings over there still as tall as when you started?”

“Hmm, hadn’t really thought about it, but yeah in the past year they don’t seem like mine to conquer, but for the next group.”

“There ya have it, that’ll be $95 for the first hour,” then Deke explodes into laughter as Nick shakes his head and Deej just finds them both way too endearing.

“Alright, so here’s, we’ll…alright…so I’m not getting younger and the firm is doing fine without me, and you know I’ve been spending more time up home.”

“With your daughter?”

“Ahh, yes, indeed, we’ve gotten more acquainted over the years, you know her mother made a clean split - anyway, so it turns out she does a lot of nonprofit work with inner city concerns, and - Nick you, I mean have you ever been through the South Side?”

“Oh just to get to the big museum.”

“Ahh, it’s a different world ain’t it?”

Nick didn’t know what to say, at first, then he balled up, “Deke I was in a van full of white church kids from the sticks, which is a different world in itself.”

“BAHHHHHH haaa haa haaa!” Deke claps his hands and has to recover a minute. 

Nick glances over at Deej who throws him a beaming wink.

“Oh Nicky, that sounds about right, but we have it so nice down here, it’s calm and the problems don’t compound themselves - I know you’ve heard it all before, but, damn, that’s where I came from!”  His face is more serious than he’s ever seen.

“Sounds like a calling, old friend.”

“It is, Nick, it really is…I think, well, shit, before you pups were even a twinkle in your mommas’ eyes, when Lew offered to start a practice down here, I dunno, I just wanted to say I made it -”

“Oh you made it,” Nick chimes in but not completely sure he should.

“Well, thank you, but…now there’s so much more, I mean I never wanted my name in the firm’s, it seems like I never knew when I’d have to go back, and now, well, I think I’m in pretty good shape for 62 ha!”

“Deke I hope I’m in half your shape at that age - you still swim?”

“Not in December, fool!”

Nick and Deej laugh.

Deke grins. “So, I’m goin back home soon, but not buyin’ a house - Nicky, I want you to take care of this place for me.”

Nick pauses, “Okay?”

“What I wanna do is set up a trust of sorts, where you are legal custodian and rightful heir of this place. I’ll still retain the ownership and equity should I ever need to fall back on it, but I doubt it. This may come as a surprise but Nicky this feels right in my heart, I want you to keep the memories alive, they really mean a lot, and I have no use for it, but you do.”

Nick just stares at a wall, “Hmm.”

“OK, alright son I just laid a lot on ya, but go talk it over with your folks and we can all meet soon, but I want to start my work up there the first of the year, even if you just keep an eye on the place for a while.”

Nick finally takes a deep breath, “OK, wow, sure -”

Deej saves him, “Deke I’ll make sure he explains it correctly to Ned and Irene.”

“Oh thank you my dear, I can tell you’re gonna keep this poor fool in line.”

Nick looks over as she frames a line perfectly, “Science can only do so much.”

And there it is, the biggest laugh of the afternoon.

Boxing Day

Saturday Dec 5, 1992

Around 9:30 pm

Nick and Deej cuddle in the back seat of his parents’ wagon, this time returning from Grandma Joyce’s place for the last time. 

But the rule seemed to be keeping things light in the face of, well, yeah. 

Today was boxing with Steve and Deb, which worked out with three pairs and surprisingly lively conversation, laughter and most surprisingly, the gals really hitting it off. After lunch especially, every time Nick would go near where they were working they would get quiet and flash each other looks, which of course means he doesn’t even wanna know…

The guys took on the garage, which, thankfully, didn’t have any nasty stash of porn, just mostly Andy’s trove of auto parts for which Steve had already found an enthusiastic buyer along with the Maverick. At one point Steve offers this,

“Nick I’m really glad you got yourself a fine tall gal, she reminds me of Mariette Hartley back in the 70s.”

Ned chimes in, “Hey I see that too, Nick was little though – wasn’t she in those Polaroid ads with, was it Garner?”

And on it goes.

Most other things of any value would go to a consignment shop, everything else donated, well, except the family keepsakes of course.

It’s good to know Grandma’s estate would get a little boost, although Steve mentioned there’s no worries about her stay at the nursing home for however long. Andy will go to a halfway house of sorts and hopefully keep at least half way out of trouble.

The most bittersweet part was dinner with all of them. Joyce looks the same as a few weeks ago, understandably a bit bewildered by all this but, well, she simply loves being with everyone. Nick can’t help but wonder why this didn’t happen more over the years, but then, hell, they probably all are.

But then, Andy had always needed to show off in a crowd, which probably has a lot to do with that. But recent events may have just sobered him up some. Tonight no one is drinking and it seems just fine, Ned struck up quite a conversation with him about the football, which seems to be Andy’s preoccupation these days, good for him.

And so this trip home is a huge relief on many fronts, and while his parents chill to whatever Irene finds on the radio, Nick has Deej in a fluster, sneaking in ear bites, whispering this and that - which may just come true tonight as she’s taking the spare bedroom, well, at some point. She had gotten to the house bright and early despite April and Sam keeping her up as long as they could the night before and got to catch some winks on the way up as Nick took a turn driving.

The past week had been a changeup with no classes at the campus for holiday break, hard to believe his first term as a post-student completed, so he put in as much time as possible getting the labs ready for another whirl – and somehow, despite Goody’s reassurances, it never seems like enough. 

Thankfully Chuck Tuttle’s plant is semi-live and looking good, so he’ll swing back that way some this next week to start shoring things up.

But on Monday morning he got to pop a tape into the car’s Pioneer deck and let it sink in, such a unique, precious thing, and only the girls had another copy of the final mix (he had even offered them the first generation copy but they declined). Nick had panned each of the girls a little ways to each side, maybe a third ways, but who knows if those pots are linear. Either way, with the bass in the middle and his leads panned opposite of Sam’s strumming it really came together, more or less, would be nice to EQ the tracks some, but still, wow.

Gradually he and Deej settle down and just lean on each other, she dozes off and he prolly does too.

One way or another tonight is definitely one to tune in the jazz radio. But at the moment, Nick is internally giddy at a recent discovery that Deej doesn’t find that interesting, but just the same, it turns out Paps had a tape of rather raunchy stories in morse code stashed in the trove, simply marked “CW Speed Building,” and what a way to build speed.

Rolling

Nov 29 1992

Alright you…

I woke up and had to pee and I could tell you were sawing logs so I wanted to tell you this way how perfect tonight was. I think you know it’s been crazy these past weeks, DUH you’ve been living it with me HA but Nicky this, well, I think I needed to take a step and I hope you were ready for that step. Also I hope you know I don’t expect us to repeat this, not that it will ever be the same, but…well, if you do I may just keep something handy (blush).

And I know you were probably hesitant to, um, “finish the job” and that’s OK, in fact, I would be a bit hesitant myself although we know not it’s pretty low risk. But now I feel like my own person and of course closer to you and more sure of us than I’ve ever been, and that’s what I needed tonight.

OK enough blabbering and mush, get some well-earned sleep (HA!) my dear and I hope we can nail the song tomorrow - OH, how about my grandparents’ basement? I’m pretty sure they would understand and may even like the music, my parents always suspected they were closet hippies, isn’t that hilarious?

Well love you and talk in the morning, gonna sneak this in your room and TRY not to get in bed with you (HEE HEE)

DJ

* * * * *

Nick noticed the letter on his stand after his morning pee, with just “Hey” on the outside fold, just like her to try and leave it there unnoticed. 

Deej is already talking to Irene downstairs and he goes to work tracking down the mental list of equipment to make it all work, including his entry-level RadShack mic from a sixth-grade Christmas list, and, crap, his other cast-off mics from the old church were a tad iffy but we’ll see, would be ideal to track the girls separately.

Hot damn, yeah, really need to make sure Sam is on board for an ASAP session, so we head downstairs for eggs and such.

But fear not, Sam has been confirmed and all Nick needs to worry about is equipment. And so gals give him shit for preparing a list while fixing and consuming eggs, and so Deej steps in and helps cook the breakfast - ain’t she sweet?

So there’s a factory-fresh chrome cassette, the mics and cords - stands would be nice but chairs or pillows will work in a pinch. His guitar, Peavey amp and the bass plus at least one cord, and need a tuner. The master plan is for the girls to go first then he will add his stuff in separate tracks afterward. OH need phones then, good catch. But this way it’ll be in the same spirit then he can mix it down later, as it turns out they have the mixer all week, it seems the home group sponsor is a bit too trusting but here we are.

And so the materiel makes its way down the stairs then he gets help loading it into his car, and they’re off, he follows Deej since she has to pick up their pint-sized mastermind.

Once at their makeshift studio, the deal becomes that that spectators are welcome to spectate from the stairwell, as a form of rent. Ralph expressed every regret for not being able to help carry and Nick gradually realizes he needs to grab a brew with this fellow sooner than later, or, well, whatever beverage his health allows.

So once they’re all tuned up and set up and cued up for the initial take with just the girls, Nick pauses and looks at them for a drawn-out second, long enough to get a pair of inquisitive looks in return, then ponders, out loud, 

“So why are we doing this?”

The girls exchange glances, Deej draws a deep breath, then Sam answers, 

“I just thought it would be cool.”

Nick was ready for this, “Hon it’s already beyond cool. We’re making something bigger than any of us.”

Deej throws Sam a look that seems to say, there ya have it.

Sam alternates glances at each of them, then huffs, 

“Are we gonna pull our dicks all day?”

Nick grins, “That’s what I wanted to hear, let’s go…three…two…you know what to do,” then clicks the tape as the gals pick it up while his ears get a little warm – did she really just say that with her grandparents right there?

Release

Saturday

Nick and Deej walk solemnly along the reservoir around 9:30 in the morning. She had shown up unannounced just as Nick was having breakfast and casually asked if they could get some air. Despite the fact that she was sunny for Irene, he gets credit for solving the quick math that something lurketh beneath. 

As soon as he backed out of their driveway she broke into tears, so Nick just holds her hand and lets her.

At the reservoir lot she’s down to occasional sobs as she stars blankly out the window, so he opens her door, takes her hand and here they are.

After some sighs, 

“Okay…so, my grandma Gladys is upset that us girls don’t want to have kids.”

Nick pauses as long as his conscious will allow. “Ouch.”

After a few more breaths, “Yeah…I mean, well, I think mostly she’s just trying to understand, but she broke down when talking to Mom and I just found out late last night.”

Nick sighs, “I bet that didn’t help you sleep.”

“What sleep? Well, I think I did a little.”

Nick realizes his body is about ten different temperatures, being somewhat bundled up on a sunny, breezy day, and can’t find words.

She picks up, “Mom and Dad are still thinking of adopting, so to me that all works out, but you know how grammas are.”

“Yeah.” Actually he’s just going along, although he can imagine his Gramma June would be tickled if Tim and Dena get productive at some point.

She squeezes his hand and looks over at him, “Nick you look pale.”

“Sorry.”

She laughs and hugs him, draws a deep breath, “Thanks for bringing me up here, you know we’re doing great, right?”

“I hope so.”

“And you know how hard it is for us girls, we don’t like to disappoint but that doesn’t change things, I have goals, and hell there’s plenty of other people’s kids out there - anyway.”

“Don’t you have cousins on that side?”

“Yeah but that’s a situation I don’t wanna go into.”

“Yikes.”

“Yeah.”

* * * * *

Noreen greets them with a hug, Deej first, then breaks into tears against his chest. Deej rubs her back as she tries to whisper, 

“Nicky thanks for believing in me this year.” She has her hair tied back, jeans and a button-up top, looks really nice. 

Actually most of the gang is more presentable than usual, plus some miscellaneous school cohorts mixed in, and he has yet to get a lowdown from Bart on the Cordoba project, although he’s pretty sure it’s snug under a tarp in a rather undisclosed location.

So he just squeezes her a little tighter then she breaks free and talks to Deej to let him off the hook.

As a diversion he glances over at the spread just as the big guy finds him with a hearty handshake, “Hey dude, better dig in!”

So they catch up for a few minutes and sure enough Bart has of yet barely touched prized toy but hopes to once things slow down over winter.

Once the McDonnell sibs have moved on he and Deej grab paper plates, he makes a cold-cut Dagwood and she just gets some pasta salad and fruit. 

Today had been chill time while she and Sam ran around some after their walk and then some after they got back, during which he played some radio while Deej dozed off on his bed as she does. There seems to be a rager of a contest this weekend so he hails some on the noobie portion of 40 meters and makes a single contact. Alas, this speed is starting to feel like a well worn shoe and he’s more and more tempted to upgrade soon, possibly do a study sprint after Christmas.

Deej had been rather elusive after her time with Sam, actually, pretty much the classic vibe that convinced him to reach out to her in the first place. The twist was that she had arranged to sleep in Tim’s room tonight since they might get back late from the next county, so they basically swap sisters tonight. 

And then on the ride over she seemed in a dreamy state, he wore the brown leather shoes with jeans and she went with a knee-length denim skirt and flats with a cute top. Even still he finds her legs distracting when driving, like they’re beckoning his attention as a bratty move, as someone calling your name then turning away when you look at them.

And of course, she tops it off with that KMart parfum-de-whatever from back in the day. Doesn’t say much tonight, just takes his arm as they walk.

So now they find a couple chairs in the corner and dig in and just watch everyone. At one point between a cheese block and a grape, she pipes up, 

“Do you mind taking a little walk after we eat?”

Nick looks over and she has her eyes somewhere in the room then throws him a rather mischievous grin. “Umm, sure?”

She smiles and goes on consuming as he realizes he’d never really talked to her family besides Bart’s gang and Arden. He’s also torn whether to say hi to Edna although he could prolly get away with introducing Deej since there’s not going to be any context at this point.

But the ambiance is pretty contagious tonight, from what it sounds like the clan usually does their own thing on thanksgiving then they do a big feast on Saturday, and usually plan it around a game or another.

After throwing their plates away, Nick makes good and they greet Edna, she’s delighted to see them and bluffs her way through but Nick does his best to do the same and it feels nice.

As they sneak out toward the metal shop Deej pulls him behind some machinery and starts a once-over so thorough it’s nearly a twice-over.

After a bit she lets up, “Listen bucko…tonight’s been great, um…”

“Yaess?”

“So, if you take me to her cabin, we’ll find it unlocked.”

“Oh…”

“Yeap just a bunch of boxes except what gets left for whichever brats take it over next.”

“Ahh-”

She plants one on him, “Lead the way stud.”

So they meander through the back of the shop complex, out the door and turn toward the main gravel lane which is well-lit enough for this purpose. Once again she takes his arm and leans her head on his, runs her fingertip on his forearm, but this time, 

“So…I had to run papers to the health office this week and may have grabbed something from the counter while no one was looking.”

Nick pauses, “A school pen?”

“Uh, no…something for your pen.”

Then he remembered that they sometimes set out a bowl of, well, cock socks. “OH.”

“So if you don’t mind, I’m totally ready - you don’t have to finish in me, but…”

“Gotcha,” then seals it with a smooch. No pressure.

It really is a nice, clear starry night, but his head becomes much less clear as they approach the storied cabin off to their right. Although one thing is certain, whatever forces are at play here, this will certainly reset every single memory made here with the previous occupant.

The approach stones are just as he remembered, Nick practically starts counting them, and sure enough, not locked. They can see around some by the ambient light from the poles outside but just the same he carefully maneuvers to the kitchen and flips that on just long enough to get their bearings and once again reset his mindset from this being her space to that neatly stacked boxes, some appliances and, yes, the sofa.

As he makes his way back toward Deej it’s understood that sofa is calling and without a word they set their coats on the back, she undoes her skirt, slips it off to sit on and takes her place. 

“Oh,” he blurts out as his eyes finally adjust to the fact that she’s going commando.

“Yeah, it’s one of those days and I’d have to wring ‘em out by now as it is.”

“Dayamm.”

She giggles as she undoes her top.

Nick’s knees get weak.

“Alright, come to mamma.”

He takes a step forward and she undoes his belt and so he joins in and awkwardly helps, then tries to fumble with her bra as she - clearly in charge here - gets his pen ready to write a new story. With that, she takes him in her mouth and works the magic she’d been known for in recent weeks, plus maybe some new moves that may or may not have to do with girl talk on girls nights.

Either way she keeps this going a minute or two while reaching for her purse and he hears the package tear, then she gently bites the end and suits up his little fireman.

“You ready?”

“You tell me.”

“Gimme gimme.”

So he hunkers down, moves his jeans down to his ankles and tries to find a position, then remembers this couch is on the low side and gets inspired, pulls her knees up over his shoulders as she makes the coupling arrangements, rubs it around, he can feel the warmth and she’s wet all over down there, smells wonderful mixed with that old perfume, and it’s almost too much.

Before he knows it he’s on track and gently eases in as she reacts, a mixture of familiar and new, and slowly starts the rhythm. She’s plenty deep and he’d never reach the end but she doesn’t seem to mind, and he gets the idea this really needs to get lively soon, and so he works it slightly faster, faster, then remembers his manners and works her fun button some with his thumb, but then, it seems more right to hold her hands. 

It’s about now that something sets in, he’s nowhere near ready, so we just press on, he reaches for the bra and just flips it up, seems the bold move she needed, so he adds some new moves, leans in to meet her mouth, bites her lip some, speeds up the rhythm, he strokes her neck and ears, 

“Don’t stop don’t stop oh Nicky…” then about ten seconds later, taking him by surprise she really lets out a hearty scream, maybe mixed with a fruity smelling burp and there may have been a puff down there, then she just slumps and he remembers he needs to keep her from sliding onto the floor.

Instinctively he scans the windows just to make sure no pervs are trying to look in, but it’s clear, once again quiet. So he decouples gently and gets her situated on her back, pulls his pants back up, then grabs a paper towel from the kitchen to at least dry her off some. Just as he’s trying to gingerly do that she snorts, 

“Sorry, “ then takes a deep breath, “Oh honey, did I black out?”

“Maybe a little.”

“Nicky there was nothing little about that, give me a minute.”

“We got all night babe.”

“Commere,” so she starts a long kiss that serves as a late foreplay of sorts, then as she regains her wits she fumbles for his fly, he assists, and before long that shroud comes off and she’s taking care of business while lying on her side and him still on his knees, which of course doesn’t take long but this time she keeps it inside her, probably wise since they’ll hopefully hang out some more.

While Nick recovers from that she freshens up in Noreen’s nearly-bare bathroom and seemingly has that perfume in her purse along with other surprises tonight.

So Nick also straightens up his look and doesn’t even think of previous escapades in this very bathroom, although he doesn’t care to peek into the bedroom.

Once back at the party Noreen locks eyes with his date and their secret is suddenly written all over her face, then naturally she pulls her expected shit, 

“Good boy!” with the same cadence as if congratulating a toddler on toilet training as she smacks his ass convincingly while walking past.

Deej clears her throat, “Howbout some cake now that we’ve had dessert?”

“And a beer.”

“Don’t mind if I do.”

So they raid the spread once again and sit near a group this time, hell, there’s worse ways to get tired on a weekend.

Nick finds jazz for the ride home and Deej dozes off despite her determination to keep him company, but once again, this is a reset of course - not a redemption, but just, well, sometimes a space just gets re-purposed, like a rail trail.

As they walk into his house around 11:30  he’d already offered her the shower first and she’s not washing her hair yet and promised to be quick, he’ll just catch the end of SNL in the mean time, but alas, on the counter, they behold the sound mixer that Sam must have sent with his folks.

Our heroes look at each other like little kids on Christmas.

Rail Trail

July 1990

Nick is about 100 yards into a repurposed railroad alignment, freshly paved into a multi-use trail. He really wants to bring his bike up this way at some point, but today is for hoofing it.

About four hours ago was the graveside service for Paps, to be followed by a dinner at their church. Mixed in with all the handshakes, condolences, mostly unfamiliar faces and a few well-dressed females he caught wind of this new trail and arranged to take the wagon and check it out as soon as he could change into summer garb.

The sign says there are 9.3 paved miles to the next town, but as the asphalt stretches into a yet unseen point before him it seems he could keep going indefinitely.

It’s not just the things he wishes he’d thought to ask about the war, about radio, about life…it’s not just the feeling that they got the short end of the stick since Paps was only 71, and it’s not just wondering if he’d lived longer had he given up the pipe sooner, or hadn’t smoked hard in the service. 

Hell, Nick has no idea what it is.

Actually, yeah, the timing couldn’t be worse. Why is July a crazy month more often than not?

It’s hot today but with a kissing breeze, and the sun should fall behind the trail’s shade wall for the most part. Should have worn a hat and borrowed some shades for this, but no one’s paying him to think today.

Classes at EIT start in a few weeks, so he’ll just keep cranking all the hours he can stand for Bain and help out with tuition.

It’s become very tempting to find a way to loop Deej into all this, but its even doubtful she’ll be around for the fair this year since she’ll start moving soon, at least that’s how he heard it.

Tim’s about to head back to base, and Irene is not too keen on the prospect of him getting deployed to the middle east. Naturally Ned stays true to form in assuring that “they’d need a good use for him before that would ever happen.”

Of course, Paps could not have been prouder to have a grandson enlist, “You know the drill, give ‘em hell and have a round with the boys on me,” he’d say with a gleam in his eye as he slipped Tim a twenty on several occasions.

Nick sighs. How is it every other year involves some earth-shaking change - actually, there’s the ones you expect and then right along are some you never saw coming…

What he really doesn’t want to come to terms with is a strange...what do you call it? A far-fetched suspicion, just a sense of a hint, that Deej might want to be closer. How is that even possible?

This trail is marked every half mile with silvery spray paint on the asphalt, although the sign at the parking lot hints there will be improvements and upkeep as they receive donations, along with an address to submit said donations.

At any rate he’s now just at a mile and starts wondering how that translates to the campus trail or, well, howbout city blocks? Seems his mom had mentioned 14 blocks to a mile, or, well that’s close enough on a summer day. Thankfully years of cycling has drilled home the need to save enough energy for the trip back so…maybe three out and back, depending on scenery.

Speaking of scenery, so far there’s been three impressive coeds float by on skates, or maybe those inline kind; two leggy gals from the opposite direction and one just passed him politely, not tall but nice tan and solid muscle tone. But alas, Nick doesn’t share much common vernacular with these types so they just fade into the horizon. 

This reminds him of junior high track when some girls wore t-shirts that completely shrouded their shorts, making for an illusion that Nick, Vance and some others referred to as “inspiration.”

Now he can’t remember if he’d ever mentioned this concept of inspiration to Paps.

Ahh Paps, you wonderful crusty old fart. Now THAT is something Nick would relay to his face just to start a shit-slinging war, and the older they got the nastier and funner it became.

So now what?

Usually Sundays are the time to ponder that, but this is a special sabbath of sorts.

Paps had been expected to be around another year or two at least, and this just plain sucks. He even got away when that particular word slipped out in front of Gramma June; Tim had stared at him expecting hell to break loose but all their elders just tacitly sighed or nodded.

Nick had learned he’d be taking most of the radio gear and stuff, after the club guys had a chance to solemnly dismantle the station, which sadly had been collecting dust more than anything in recent months. He’d sensed a slight conspiracy brewing to have him take on the radio heritage at some point, so maybe he could try morse code before classes start.

This summer had been mostly work and the usual screwing around, although it feels weird, hell, maybe it’s best to get all the weirdness out of the way.

At this speed and vantage point, and even more so than from the bike, ordinary objects are highly intriguing, like an old silo, the kind that in early childhood he’d hope in vain was a moon rocket. There’s an impressive red-brick “I” house on an approaching hill, looks to be kept up and has a grain tower feeding several silver silos, not that Nick actually knows the terminology just used to describe it all.

His feet start to feel the distance at the second mile mark but he’s good to keep going. There have been a couple of serious cyclists whiz past on equipment that makes his old Schwinn seem like a toy. At first there were a couple of families with dogs on leash but they seem to stop a lot and may not even make it out this far. 

If he was expecting an epiphany out here it has yet to manifest, but one thing is clear, this expedition was the right idea.

Black Friday

Friday November 27, 1992

Once again Sam is over for their weekly huddle, proving once again that life with Deej is never short of surprises. They’re a package deal; Deej is the stable element, they are more solid than ever, which leaves Sam as the random vector. Not that Deej herself has stopped throwing him off now and then, but this pint-sized blond is all over the place.

“How come I’ve never met Brenda? She seems to be for adults only.”

Nick looks up from his fretboard, something he’s been trying not to watch - to little avail - while playing. “I’m sure you will, she’s a nice gal.”

Sam grins and adds sauce, “So she’s hot for Vance?”

“I think they have a chance.”

Naturally she picks up on the rhyme, does a mock laugh and slaps her elbow, “Knee slapper.”

“You’re a dipshit.”

“So what’s she like?”

“Well, she’s definitely a future mom, pretty down to earth and fun - more so than I’d thought.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, not like us at all.”

This gets a wry grin. “At least I got to meet Noreen.” 

“Definitely.” Stopping by on her way out of town, almost a week ago, yes, these two blonds from another planet met up and Irene snapped a picture of the three of them, one for the books. Of course, the two hit it off instantly and it was a crazy twist to say the least.

By now they’ve pretty much finished their set, the plan is to sneak in a practice session this weekend. Nick barely notices her hop up and head down the hall, and he’s due for a pee so sets his guitar down to do that.

Thanksgiving had been uneventful but it’s never going to be the same up at Gramma June’s when they (almost) all pile in, seems to get harder every year but they press on. They also stopped in on the other gramma at the rest home and surprise her along with Steve and Debbie, along with the questionable hug that he tries not to enjoy. At one point he leans into Ned, 

“You and mom are too young to deal with this shit.”

“Nicky, you’re alllllright.”

Today started out with morning coffee with Nancy’s parents, who would be Ed and Gladys Beasley - basically an older version of Nancy and Dean, to the point where Nick had to fight the urge to grin, especially with three generations of gals seeming to watch him like a hawk. Then he and Ned each chilled out in their own space while Irene and the three generations plus an April hit the drag and caught a movie and such. They had even asked Bev Dawson but she needed to rest up after hosting yesterday.

After Nick picks up his guitar to work through some rough spots, Sam comes back in and pushes the door shut, then he looks up to find her in a robe and holding a pad of paper. 

“Here,” and hands him the pad, “grab a pencil.”

For some reason his neck hairs start to tingle. “Okayyy….”

The next time he looks over, she has dropped the robe and just sits there wistfully. “Draw me.”

Nick shuts his eyes in near exasperation and draws a breath.

And then she drops, the clincher, which echoes from a certain parsonage bathroom way back when, “Please.”

So he opens the notebook and sees there are already two versions, one signed DeeJay and another from April. “Ohhh, so it’s my turn.”

She just clears her throat.

Nick manages to make eye contact, “Are you sure?”

“Go. I’m cold, in case you couldn’t tell.”

He almost issues a vain threat but can’t muster it, she’s in charge. Right on cue, some part of his mind will make an unfortunate association between his pencil’s mostly-intact eraser and her nascent nubs that - by her account - indicate a chill, not that he’s going to look close enough to validate it.

“Alright.”

“Dude there’s nothing here you haven’t seen better of, just…draw, you pansy.”

Well, when she’s right she’s right. For a split second he tries to take refuge in knowing Deej can deal with her for this, but then, this is actually a privilege, albeit, a pretty damn uncomfortable one. 

So he glances up at her face and tries to do the rest from peripheral vision, starting with her hair, eyes brighter than usual tonight. This is definitely a rite of passage for their working relationship as collaborators and surrogate siblings.

The arms and torso are easy, but…yeah he’s generous with her bosoms and makes the U’s beneath the dots, but he has to try not to cringe at her well-defined ribcage, evidently from that condition early on, and she has splotchy pigment on her torso, poor thing. He has to pause a second to recall how expertly toned her sister is, but now is not the time; Deej can help redeem this soon, he hopes.

But one aspect he simply must ignore is the wee bit of patch peeking out even as she keeps her knees squeezed together (whew) - he struggles not to notice it’s a tad darker than her top mop, geez louise. But then, well, she does have fair pins and, hmm, pretty nice thighs like her sister, actually, so he gets to be honest here. She’s one of those gals with the peach fuzz on her legs, which we’ll just ignore for now, since, in the back of his mind, she’ll morph into punk-chick of sorts if she stays with music, the kind that wears skirts and tights to make a statement, and so yeah some decent muscle tone is just the ticket.

“Alright,” as he’s signing it with his initials, slightly concerned to put his name on it should it fall into questioning hands.

“Well, bring it over.” 

He doesn’t bother argue, just keeps facing away, takes a seat next to her and hands it over and stares the other way.

She says nothing, so after what seems like an hour he meets her eyes, never so joyful, then she pulls him in for a two-beat smooch.

Then she closes the book, sniffs some tears, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome dear. Now will you put that goddamn robe back on?”

Sam doubles over laughing then covers up, “Alright I’ll go change, can we watch something?”

It’s become customary to stretch out on the bed for silly TV, usually with her on her belly, head toward the foot of the bed and falling asleep halfway through. He’d been meaning to suggest Atari but she’s always tired by now.

“Yeah that can be arranged, dork.”

She giggles again and scampers off.

Nick locks the door and calls big sis for good measure, and as usual she has the phone handy.

“Hello?”

“Well, it seems I’ve joined the club…”

“Ummm…”

“Her drawing pad.”

“Wait….<shuffling>...”no way, she asked you to draw…”

“Full monty.”

All he hears is muffled laughter.

“We’re gonna watch TV, just thought you should know.”

“Okay, sorry - hmmm <cough cough> are we still on tomorrow?”

“Ready if you are.”

“Mmmmhmmm…go watch TV, us gals are watching crime and Grampa’s dozing off.”

“Enjoy your crime, love you.”

She whispers, “Love you, nite.”

Sweet Squeeze

Tuesday

Right on cue, Nick sits in Brenda’s chair in mid-morning and is increasingly convinced she’ll be mostly self-supported, at least for the near future, by lunchtime.

Yesterday he split between worlds and will do the same today, one way or another. 

For now, Miss Brenda sits next to him as the defrag runs, now that a bad file had been weeded out and corrected, evidently due to a power hiccup. It turns out she works for Walt Bowers Insurance, who represents a variety of insurers and annuity providers. So it’s a nice setup in a small brick building with the fancier molding decor and Walt’s office in the rear, next to another office for an accounting-type, who’s not in at the moment.

“So you can set it up so I just type something to do this, cleanup…thingy?”

“Yeap, once a week or so should be plenty, before lunch maybe.”

“Oh cool.” Brenda had already expressed her perceived inadequacy with computers several times by now.

Nick is still casing the joint. “So, Word Perfect and, any thing else?”

“That’s usually where I live, my predecessor was…well, older, and so she used that typewriter over there.”

Off on a corner shelf was probably a workhorse tank IBM Selectric beneath a cover. Nick can’t resist, 

“I’ll have to check that out.”

“Be our guest, I hate the <lowers voice> damn thing.”

Nick wonders why she lowered her voice since no one else is in earshot, but who knows, but picks it up, 

“Is this thing any better?”

“Actually I’m thankful, and I feel better about it now. How did you learn all this stuff?”

Nick pauses, “Let’s just say curiosity kills the cat.”

“Ohh kay?”

“Well, it kills at lot of time at least.”

“You’re funny. So have you talked to Vance lately?”

“Not since the golf day I think.”

“Oh yeah, I forget you guys don’t talk a lot.”

He grins, “Well you gals usually do that for us.”

She taps his arm, “Hey now.”

The phone rings and she takes some notes. Nick realizes he’d never seen her in pants, always in a knee-length skirt, which suits her well, very confident long-limbed packaging. After she hangs up she continues,

“Do you see that Curt very often?”

Nick pauses to muse at her phrasing. “Not really, haven’t run into him at campus but then I’m not there so much these days.”

“Well, the girls gave me a hard time for staring at him that night but I just couldn’t believe…that cocky, but I wanted…well, April seemed to need some answers and…”

Nick doesn’t want to weight in, just a knowing, “Mmmmmmhmmm.”

She pauses so he looks over and she’s studying him.

After a few eternal seconds he prods, “Yes?”

“Well - I don’t mean to be a gossip, but…I don’t know, I’m rambling.”

“You’re fine.”

“Nick - do you think I have a chance with Vance? Oh God that was lame -”

He cuts her off, “If he knows what’s good for him then yes you have a chance.”

Silence.

He looks over and she seems pleased. “Thank you, Nick, I believe you mean it.”

“Alright look…he had a shitty time growing up, that cramped apartment, he deserves a good chance.”

She pulls her chair closer. 

“A chance at what?”

Nick has to think. “Well, assuming you guys want the same thing…”

After a few breaths, “We’ve talked.”

Right then the defrag wraps up but he tries to stay on topic. After drawing a deep breath, “Well, good. That’s great, actually, and, all we really talked about was stupid shit, but…now that…well, seems he used to bring that up now and then, about marriage and kids, and I prollably changed the subject.”

“Prollably, huh? But that’s good to know.”

Nick acknowledges the defrag and exits it, then runs the defrag help command to see about building her a batch file.

“You seem to know all the secrets of this thing, I’m years behind.”

For once, Nick was ready, “Well, that phone call you just took, you wouldn't want to hear me do that, you’re so graceful.”

“Thanks, I try. Oh before I forget, how much do you need for this visit?”

Crap. Nick hadn’t really worked out a rate, but to base things on his salary at the school, which evens out around $12.50 an hour. At this point he was into a second hour and needed padding for the batch file, so,

“Is twenty-five ok?”

“Oh I’m sure it is, Walt’s in so we can get you a check.”

“Poifect.”

She giggles. 

Evidently the hope is to share a calendar among all office machines at some point, but Nick doesn’t propose anything yet, too much going on for the moment anyhow. Also at the moment, this feels really…well, cozy, they’re really hitting it off with a common sense of purpose.

But then, almost on cue, someone walks in as Nick is studying the screen and before he can look up, Brenda greets the visitor, 

“Mister Ted, got some juicy payroll for us?”

“Right here.” Nick recognizes the voice but keeps on typing, actually, he starts a dummy text file and types junk commands in it as his chest and ears start to warm up. He continues as she reaches behind him for an envelope or such.

“Well thank you sir.”

“Alrighty-dighty, see you in two weeks.”

After Ted leaves, Nick looks over at her with a wry grin.

She chuckles. “Umm, do you know him by chance?”

Nick sighs, then, “I think I, well, had to run him off a while back, he kind of interrupted a date.”

She laughs into her hands. “Hmmm…well I doubt he has many dates of his own to get interrupted.”

Nick just shakes his head and lets it float. 

“I think he recognized you, usually he sticks around.”

“You’re welcome.”

She laughs some more. “Want any more coffee?”

“Better not, it’ll make me nervous about Ted returning.”

“OHHHH my.”

Just before getting up to leave, Nick realizes that Brenda has stayed out of his field of vision most of the time, and that she tends to keep her chair a few inches behind his for whatever reason, not that she has any reason to be self conscious. She’s every bit as attractive as the other gals in their circle, actually similar height to Noreen with a nice build, straight sandy blond, greenish blue eyes, and usually wears a skirt and always well presented. But unlike what he’s used to, Brenda is simply not one bit nerdy about anything, confidently outgoing when the situation calls for it, like when she had April break the ice for this visit. But she’s got the traditional female sensibilities, actually, more like his mother, and for that matter, most mothers, and for that reason now life makes a bit more sense.

* * * * *

Nick wound up at the campus for the afternoon to tie up some ends, then came home to a quick shower before Deej got there for a stolen nap and to help with some leftovers.

After they moseyed upstairs she wants to check out a new curiosity he’d wired up in recent days: a compact, entry-level Uniden mobile CB with origins he can’t recall, but seems he’d grabbed it at a yard sale in recent years thinking it would be fun in the Cordoba then let it get buried, or actually, thought too hard about mobile antenna options and left it to future inspiration.

As it turns out that inspiration came in the form of rigging it to the antenna tuner to use the dipole array and see what happens. As he understands it there’s few specific laws on antennas (other than free-standing height) as long as the radio itself is FCC type-accepted (i.e. certified) and you don’t exceed the few allowed watts (i.e. four or five, depending on how measured…).

Leave it to Deej to find amusement in this, she hadn’t heard CB in years since her grandpa had one and wanted to hear truckers from the highway.

Nick kept warning, “Nineteen is usually all butts and elbows but we’ll see what we get.”

Actually, the road channel wasn’t terribly busy, but right away there’s a female voice, “Sweet Squeeze, channel 17.”

Deej is sitting there in her work outfit, one of endless combinations that never cease to amaze Nick as her wardrobe doesn’t seem that big, yet she shoots him a puzzled look, which hits him within a daze of her full-day of sweet musk.

Nick has a hunch, “She’s prollably at the truck stop…”

Her eyes dance for a second, then go really wide as she draws a breath, just as the radio pipes up, 

“Sweet Squeeze, gimme a hollar on 17”

Deej grabs the mic, “Hey fellas I hear Sweet Squeeze has a vein-er! So if ya really want a good time call Muffin Top on 21.”

Nick’s ears glow hot as the sun as she releases the mic and turns unimaginably red, shaking with silent laughter.

“Danielle!“ is all he can muster, just as Sweet Squeeze starts in,

“Honey I don’t know WHO the hell you are but I bet you can’t even sit on a bar stool yours is so loose…”

Nick peers at her in disbelief, “A VEIN-er?” 

Deej starts to fan herself and can’t seem to take full breaths. Nick gets up to crack a window.

Sweet Squeeze presses on, “Yeah you BETTER stay quiet - BITCH! Don’t let even me find you around….”

Unsure what else to do, Nick flips the dial up to 21, where it’s thankfully quiet. But alas, as if on autopilot, he grabs the mic,

“How boutcha there Muffin Top you sound pretty damn sexy,” in the dumbest drawl he can muster.

Not to be outdone, Deej pulls it together and grabs the mic, “Howout you come ‘round behind the Hideway and find out for yourself stud?”

At this point neither one of them can stay on a chair and slide onto the floor, heaving with guffaws, as we say.

Once they both start to calm down just a tad, the radio pipes up, a male voice, “Where’d ya go there Muffin Top, you sound like plenty a woman to go around there a-commown?”

Eventually she pleads Nick to help her to the bathroom before it’s too late. Given the circumstances he forgoes the urge to offer an eraser as a cork.