They Say It's Your Birthday
Chapter 9
“Kinney,” Brian said after he pressed the button on the bluetooth stuck in his
ear.
“Hey, kiddo!” came the loud response.
“Howdy, Maw!” Brian drawled then pulled over to the side of the road. He had
almost made it out of the Pitts before getting Debbie’s call.
“Where are you?”
“On my way home, why?”
“Can you come by the house? And do not say it,” Debbie attempted to ward off
Brian’s patented response.
He snorted. “Would I do that to you?”
“Yes. Now get your skinny butt over here. I have something for you.”
“Okay, Maw,” Brian sighed as he turned the Corvette around. A few minutes later
he entered Debbie’s house.
“Nothing changes around here, does it?” Brian mumbled as he picked up a small
porcelain clown that was happy on an end table. It was one of many that
decorated the house that appeared to have gotten stuck in the 70's.
“Hiya, honey!” Debbie came out of the kitchen to give Brian a loud kiss to his
cheek. “How are you doing?” she asked as she searched his face.
“Peachy,” he snarked.
Debbie gave Brian’s cheek a little smack then wagged a finger at him. “Don’t get
smart with me,” she warned. “I heard you’ve been spending a lot of time here
lately,” Debbie said as she went back into the kitchen to pack up a tray of
lasagna for Brian and his family.
“I do work here,” he snapped as he searched her refrigerator for
something cold to drink.
“But you work a lot from home too.”
“Sometimes I need to go to the office,” Brian stated the obvious. “I’m not the
only one. Justin’s been spending a lot of time at the gallery lately.”
“I know. He stops by to say hello; unlike someone else I know,” Debbie scowled.
Brian immediately looked contrite. “Here, take this home with you.” Debbie had
securely wrapped the tray then placed it into a box to make it easier for Brian
to carry it.
“Thank you, Deb,” he said sincerely, giving her the puppy dog eyes. He then
leaned down to kiss her.
“I love you, kiddo,” she said.
“Love you too, Maw.” Brian smiled at the woman who, for years, was the only
mother he knew.
“Stay safe and give my Sunshine a kiss. And of course, you give your little
princess a big kiss from me too.”
“I will. Uh, Deb, you called me over here just to give me lasagna?” Brian asked.
A wave of concern struck him. “Is everything okay?”
“I’m fine, sweetheart, and so is Carl. I miss you and Sunshine. Sometimes I can
close my eyes and almost imagine you all here on a Sunday night, laughing and
joking around. I miss it.” Brian gave the portly woman a big hug.
“I miss it too, sometimes,” he admitted in a whisper. “And then there are other
times when I’m inundated with all of you on the lane,” Brian scowled in mock
anger. Debbie laughed as she squeezed his cheeks.
“You know you love it.” She kissed his cheek again then plopped the box in his
hands. “Drive safely,” she said as she ushered him to the door.
“Oh, one more thing. A messenger dropped this off late last night. I don’t think
it’s very important because they would have sent it to Kinnetik,” she said as
Deb placed a thin envelope on top of the lasagna. “See ya, kiddo!” Debbie said
as she shut the door behind a slightly shocked Brian.
He sighed as he managed to get himself and the lasagna into the Corvette. He
gingerly picked up the envelope.
“This is becoming annoying,” he murmured as he tore it open and removed a bunch
of papers. “Recipes?”
Some low fat recipes to help you keep in tiptop shape. Always looking out for you as you age gracefully! |
“I don’t know whether to be grateful or insulted,” Brian said to himself as he
sifted though the recipes. They all looked appealing. “Hmm.” He shrugged his
shoulders, thinking he might just give them a try. He then started up the car to
head for home.
*****
“Hey,” Brian said as he entered the cottage and saw Justin working away at
something in the kitchen. “When did you get home?”
“A little while ago. We finished early at the gallery so I came home. “I thought
you’d be here.”
“I took a little side trip.”
“To Debbie’s.”
“How did you know?”
“The fragrant scent of Debbie’s world famous lasagna wafted into the kitchen
just ahead of you. I imagine that’s what is in the box you’re carrying.”
“Good deduction, Sherlock,” Brian said as he sat the box containing the lasagna
on the counter.
“I have my skills,” Justin replied with a grin.
“You certainly do,” Brian agreed as he stepped behind the counter and nuzzled
Justin’s neck. “Have we got time?”
With a radiant smile on his face Justin shook his head. “The bus will be coming
up the lane momentarily.”
“Fuck!”
“It’s all right, old man. I’ll make it up to you later.”
“What did you call me?”
“Old man.”
“And why that … now?” Brian asked with a frown.
“Um, what do you mean? I call you that every once in a while.”
“I know, but why now?”
“I don’t know,” Justin said. He wondered what had Brian’s knickers in a knot.
“Is something wrong?”
“No,” Brian said slowly, “not really.”
“What does that mean?”
“It’s fine. I…”
“Brian, tell me what’s going on.”
Just then the buzzer for the gate at the end of the lane went off. Brian walked
over and pressed it to let the bus in. That effectively ended the discussion as
they both walked out to meet the kids when they got off the bus.
*****
The following day Justin was off to the gallery once again. Brian decided to
stay home and work on his flowerbeds. He thought maybe if he stayed away from
Pittsburgh and the people who were his supposed friends, he wouldn’t get any
more reminders about how old he would soon be.
With the house empty, Brian put on his gardening duds and headed to the
backyard. He surveyed the gardens which to all intents and purposes were
absolutely beautiful. He studied the clumps of tulips which had already bloomed.
He was going to trim the heads off, but he hesitated. He didn’t think they had
been as spectacular this year as they had the last. Quickly calculating how long
the tulips had been in the ground, Brian made a quick decision.
He walked through the house, grabbed his keys and jumped into the Corvette. A
short drive later he pulled into the garden center. Entering the building, he
walked through to the back, giving the girl at the counter a cursory nod. He
wasn’t sure he remembered her name, so he didn’t say anything.
“Hey,” he said as he looked into Todd’s office in the back. Todd was on his
computer.
“Well, well, well, what brings you here, Mr. Kinney?” Todd asked with a smile.
“Haven’t seen much of you lately, so I came to see if you had absconded with my
investment in this place.”
“The vacation in Cabo San Lucas was good, but I decided to come back and rip you
off for a little more money.”
Brian chuckled and shook his head. “How are things going … really?”
“Just fine. The center is making a good profit. We’ve had a spectacular spring
so far.”
“That’s good … and Gerry?”
A large smile spread across Todd’s face. “He’s better than fine.”
“I take that to mean, you two are at it hot and heavy.”
“But of course!” Todd responded with an attempt at a French accent.
“You’re pathetic.”
“And you’re almost fifty.”
“Hey!”
“Well, you are.”
“Who told you that?”
“Numerous members of that cwazy wittle family of yours,” Todd said with a grin.
“Riiight, the big mouths.”
“That would be the ones.”
“What do you know about tulips?” Brian said changing the subject.
“Just about everything,” Todd responded.
“A tad overconfident, aren’t we?”
“Mm, Gerry says I’m just confident enough.”
Brian glared at his obstreperous business partner. “I didn’t get such wonderful
blooms off my tulips this year,” Brian said by way of explanation of his
presence at the garden center.
“How long have they been in the ground?”
“That’s what I was thinking,” Brian said. “Maybe it’s time to change them.”
“After about ten years they start a downward trend.”
“They’re too old,” Brian supplied.
“I guess you could say that. They’ll continue to bloom, but they don’t keep
getting bigger and spreading.”
“Whereas, humans get bigger and do continue to spread.”
Todd frowned. “Brian, are we still talking about tulips?”
“I … yeah, you’re right. I should dig up the tulips and replace them. Have you
got some nice new colors of tulips? But I want them hardy too. They need to last
at least another ten years.”
“The All Things Happy Garden and Lawn Center has everything to meet your
gardening needs. Follow me, sir. I’m sure we can find exactly what you’re
looking for.”
Brian had to grin as he followed Todd out into the showroom and over to the
tulip section. He listened to Todd’s recommendations about the various varieties
of tulips, gradually narrowing his choices until he had three types that he
liked the color of. He made sure to choose ones that Todd had labeled as hardy
varieties. He hated the fancy hybrid ones that bloomed once spectacularly and
then were worthless after that. He wanted ones that were in it for the long
haul.
“Okay,” Brian said, “I know the ones I’m going to take. Thanks for your help,
Todd.”
“Not a problem,” Todd replied. “I love talking flowers and discussing what will
work best for the people planting them. You made my day.”
“Happy to oblige,” Brian said as he gathered up his packages of tulip bulbs.
“Now, I also need something to fill the holes where the old tulips were until
these babies grow up a bit.”
“I have just the thing,” Todd said confidently as he led Brian to another
section of the flower area.
Soon everything was loaded into the back of the Corvette. Brian was paying for
his purchases when Todd came out of his office.
“I almost forgot. This came for you this morning,” Todd said handing Brian a
small shopping bag.
“What is it?”
“I don’t know. I don’t go snooping into bags with your name on them.”
“Why would a delivery come here? I’m hardly ever here.”
“Hey, don’t kill the messenger. I’m merely passing this on to you.”
Brian had a feeling he knew what would be in the bag – another un-gift.
Reluctantly he took the bag from Todd. “I don’t suppose you know who sent this?”
Todd shook his head. “Some delivery guy brought it. That’s all I know.”
“Figures.”
“Brian, is something up?”
“No, it’s fine. Thanks,” Brian said as he finished paying for his flowers. He
took the shopping bag and walked out to his car.
Once he was seated inside the Corvette he opened the bag and peered inside. It
was a bottle of something. Brian lifted it from the bag. It was a jar of extra
hot salsa. He couldn’t help but chuckle. This was a new twist. He reached back
into the bag for the card he knew would be there. Pulling it out, he read:
Wouldn’t want you to think you were old and decrepit. You’re still extra hot and spicy just like the contents of this jar. Looking out for you as you age to perfection. |
This was suddenly getting rather interesting. Brian started the car and headed
for home.
*****
Best laid plans of mice, men and queers often go awry. Or something like that.
As Brian was varooming his way back home in the Corvette, his Bluetooth chimed
in his ear.
“Kinney.”
“It’s Scott,” the head man of Part Deux announced himself. From the tone of
Scott’s voice, Brian knew his date with tulips would have to wait.
“I’m not going to like this, am I?”
“Not really. Are you able to swing by the office? We seem to be in the midst of
a standoff.”
“Standoff?”
“As in admen versus artists. We need an objective opinion.”
“You do recall I am an adman.”
“Yes, but you’re married to an artist.” Brian sighed with resignation as he
pulled off to the side of the road.
“Let me make some phone calls first then I’ll be there in about an hour.”
“Good. I think I can forestall the bloodshed until then,” Scott snarked
dramatically as he hung up.
By the time the Corvette rumbled onto the lane following Brian’s visit to Part
Deux, it was well after four. Brian had several hours of daylight left to do his
planting but he decided to unload his car and stow his new bulbs and annuals in
the greenhouse just in case he couldn’t get to them. He gave the plants a good
watering before sauntering up to the cottages.
“Hey, dog!” Brian greeted Beau who was making his rounds of the lane. The big
dog bounded up to his ‘man’ then slowed and waited. Brian patted his chest as he
often saw John do. Beau slowly rose on his hind legs, resting his front paws on
Brian’s chest. Nearly nose to wet shiny nose with the big dog, Brian grabbed
Beau’s ears to give them a good scratch. Beau smiled in his doggie way with his
tongue lolling out. Beau was one valued member of the family.
“All right on the lane?” Brian asked. Beau responded with a little bark as he
lowered himself then bounded off to finish his rounds.
“Later,” Brian said to the dog’s retreating back, shaking his head with a smile.
Brian entered the cottage finding it relatively quiet. He walked into the sun
porch to see who was home. He noted that Justin was in full artist mode,
preparing canvases for his next masterpiece. Patrick was quietly doing his
homework at one of the small wicker tables. Brian went to sit down next to his
nephew.
“Where is everyone?” he asked softly trying not to disturb Justin. Although he
knew when Justin was in full artist mode, not much could draw away his
attention.
“My dads are still working, but they said they’d be home in time to make
dinner,” Patrick said as he struggled with his math homework. Brian peered over
the boy’s shoulder then offered some assistance.
“Ooohh,” Patrick said with a grateful smile then continued with his pencil.
“Where’s Bree?” Brian asked with a little concern. She usually did her homework
right along with Patrick.
Patrick pointed toward the garden.
“Did she finish her homework already?” Patrick shrugged, trying to avoid looking
at the Dora the Explorer backpack on the floor.
“Uh huh,” Brian muttered as he ruffled the boy’s fiery red hair. “No problem.
You just concentrate on your homework and make sure your uncle doesn’t bury
himself under canvases and sketchpads,” Brian kidded.
He and Patrick looked up at Justin who was surrounded by several easels, each
sporting a pad or canvas. The hazel eyed men exchanged knowing looks then Brian
went out into the garden in search of his daughter.
“Hey,” Brian said when he found Bree. She was sitting on one of the
strategically placed benches in the garden, a soccer ball under her feet. She
had a pre-occupied, faraway look on her face.
“Hi, Dada,” she greeted her father.
“Did you finish your homework, Squirt?”
“No, Dada,” she said guiltily. There was an unspoken rule that had developed for
the kids after school; snack and homework, then playtime.
“What’s wrong?” Brian sat next to his daughter and took her little hand in his.
“Your birthday’s soon, isn’t it,” she said as more of a statement rather than a
question.
“Yes, it is.”
“Why don’t you want a party? Uncle John says this is a sig-nif-i-cant birthday,”
Bree said, carefully enunciating her words. This was no time for baby talk.
“I’m not comfortable with birthday parties,” Brian answered honestly.
“But you made me great parties!”
“Because they were for you. I don’t like parties for me.”
“But why?”
“Because I prefer celebrating an accomplishment rather than the fact that I’ve
lived for another year. Some birthdays aren’t very happy ones,” he said sadly
remembering the worst birthday of his life.
Bree appeared to take it all in and then come to a conclusion. “If I make a
party for you and bake a cake, will you come?” she asked seriously, searching
her father’s eyes.
“Yes,” Brian said. He could never hurt his daughter by refusing such a request.
“Your brother will be home for the summer soon; can we wait until then?”
“Oh yes, Dada!” Bree said as she jumped up onto the bench and threw her arms
around Brian’s neck. He hugged his daughter closely.
“Homework,” Brian said after a few minutes.
“I don’t have much; I started it at recess,” Bree explained.
“Then in that case…” Brian snatched up his daughter in one arm then began to
kick the soccer ball toward open ground. Once they were far enough from the
house and anything breakable, he put Bree down for an impromptu game.
For the next hour Bree and Brian ran circles around each other and scored
numerous goals. The crowd (Beau) roared appropriately.
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