Fun in the Sun

Chapter 7

“Sleeping bags.”

“Check.”

“Toiletries.”

“Check.”

“PJ’s.”

“Check.”

“Snacks.”

“Check,” Patrick said as he shoved the bag with chips and pretzels into the back of his Dad’s SUV. They were getting ready to go to Grandma Claire’s farm so he and Chet could sleep overnight in the treehouse.

“I think we have everything,” John said.

“What about pillows?” Patrick asked.

“My mother has pillows, but with all of us sleeping over there tonight maybe we should take a couple. There’s some old ones in the linen closet. Run and get them, Patrick, as well as the pillowcases from that set of sheets we don’t use on your bed anymore.”

“You mean the ones with the cowboys?” Patrick asked in horror.

“Yeah.”

“But those are for babies.”

“You used them until last year,” John reminded him with a chuckle.

“But not anymore,” Patrick protested.

“They’ll do just fine for sleeping on the floor.” Patrick shook his head. “If Chet makes a comment, tell him I made you use them.”

“Okaaay,” Patrick said with a groan. He ran into the house.

“Uncle John, are you going to check off what me and Ashley are taking?” Bree asked. She was standing beside the open back of the SUV and had been waiting patiently.

“Didn’t Bobby help you two pack?”

“Yes, but I thought we should do a check like you did with Patrick,” Bree explained.

“Okay,” John agreed. “Do you have your jammies?”

“Check.”

“Grey bunny?”

“Check.”

“Games to play with Grandma Claire?”

“Check.”

“Change of clothes?”

“Check.”

“Grandma Claire will be glad of that if your baking gets messy.”

“I’m not messy,” Bree protested. “My Daddy says I’m very neat.”

“You take after your Dada in that regard,” John observed. Bree nodded proudly. “Then I guess you have everything.”

“You didn’t ask me about toiletries,” Bree reminded him.

“Ah, yeah, do you have toiletries?”

“Check.”

“Does Ashley have the same as you?” John asked.

“Yes, I do,” Ashley said as she ran up to the car dragging one of Bree’s suitcases behind her.

John took the overnight cases from the girls and added them to the pile of equipment in the back of the SUV. Patrick returned with the pillows stuffed into the cowboy pillowcases. John added them to the pile.

“Where’s your dad?” John asked his son.

“He’s coming,” Patrick said. “He was packing a suitcase for you and him.”

“Hm,” John said. “You and Chet want to stay in the treehouse by yourselves, don’t you?” John asked.

“Yes, Dad,” Patrick replied with what sounded like an exasperated release of breath. “We’re not babies. We can stay by ourselves,” the boy declared.

“I didn’t say you couldn’t,” John said looking at his rather snippy son. Was this the beginning of the dreaded teenage years? His son was almost there.

 

*****
 

A short time later, John pulled the SUV into Claire’s driveway. As he stopped the vehicle near the house another car came up the drive.

“That must be Chet,” John said.

“Great!” Patrick said enthusiastically.

“Yippee,” Bree muttered sarcastically.

Ashley giggled as she undid her seatbelt. Bree gave her a look, and Patrick glared at both of them.

“Hello, Mr. Anderson,” Chet’s father called as he got out of his BMW.

“It’s John,” John reminded him. “And this is my husband, Bobby,” he introduced his spouse. “Bobby, this is Chet’s father, Mitchell Larkin.”

“Ah, nice to finally meet you,” Mitchell said to Bobby as they shook hands. “And it’s Mitch. I think you’ve been at work whenever I’ve dropped Chet off at your place. Chet is very excited about sleeping in the treehouse. Can I have a look?”

“Sure,” John said, “but I’d like to introduce you to my mother and her husband.” John could see them waiting patiently just inside the screen porch. “Mom, Steve, come on out here.”

After introductions were made, John took the boys and their gear along with Chet’s father over to the treehouse. They each took some of the supplies and climbed the ladders up to the treehouse. Mitchell was amazed at what he found inside the structure. He really enjoyed seeing it, and he felt much better about leaving his son to sleep there overnight.

While they were still looking around the treehouse, Steve arrived at the base of the tree. He called up to them, “Hey guys, lower the basket. Claire sent some dust rags and cleaning products.”

“That’s my mother,” John laughed as he went out on the balcony to lower the basket and bring up the cleaning supplies.

“Claire said nobody’s slept in there for quite a while, so you better give it a good cleaning,” Steve told him.

“I’m surprised she didn’t climb up and clean it herself.”

“She thought about it,” Steve admitted, “but I think her days of climbing up there are over. Mine too.”

“Yeah,” John agreed reluctantly. He didn’t like to think of his mother getting old, but she was. Just like Joan. “Tell Mom we’ll make a good job of it,” he said. That would be the thing that would make his mother happiest.

 

*****
 

While the boys were getting settled in, Bobby and the girls went into the big farmhouse kitchen. Claire sent Steve out to the treehouse with the cleaning supplies she had arranged. Bobby took the little suitcases upstairs to the bedrooms, while Claire and the girls sat down to discuss what they might bake.

“Pie,” Bree said decisively.

“I thought you might like to make cookies,” Claire said.

“Nope, pie,” Bree stated. “I know how to make cookies. I want to make pie.”

“Is that all right with you, Ashley?” Claire asked.

Ashley nodded. “I don’t know if I can make pie, but I can try.”

“That’s very good,” Claire said with a smile. “I’m sure we can make a delicious couple of pies. The boys will be blown away.”

“That’s good, Grandma Claire,” Bree said happily.

“Then let’s get to work. I have a roast in the oven for dinner, so if we start the pie now, we can put it in when the roast is done. It can cook while we eat dinner, and then we can have dessert on the screen porch when it cools. Does that sound like a plan?”

Both girls nodded enthusiastically, before they donned aprons and started the process of making a pie.

When Bobby came downstairs the girls were carefully peeling apples while Claire was rolling out her crust.

“It’s very important that you don’t handle the crust too much,” Claire was saying. “That makes it tough, and we want it to be light and flaky.”

“When can we make crust?” Bree asked.

“It’s called dough until it’s cooked,” Claire advised. “Dough can be rather tricky, so maybe next time or the time after. There’s a lot to learn about making pies.”

“You’re the best teacher, Grandma Claire,” Ashley said with a cheery smile as she finished peeling one apple.

“Would you like me to core them as the girls finish peeling?” Bobby asked.

“Unless you’d rather go help clean the treehouse,” Claire said with a wicked grin.

“Coring sounds good to me,” Bobby said, sitting down at the kitchen table.

Claire laughed. “I thought it might.”

“What’s coring, Uncle Bobby?” Bree asked.

“I’ll show you.” Bobby proceeded to quarter Ashley’s peeled apple. Then he cut off the ends that still had some skin and made a couple of cuts to pop out the seeds and the tough innards of the apple. “Should I slice as well?”

“Please, but cut them thin,” Claire advised. She handed him a big bowl and he began to thinly slice the quarters of apple into the bowl. The girls watched, making mental notes of all that was involved in making the apples ready for the pie.

“What kind of apples are these?” Bree asked as she finished peeling her apple and handed it to Bobby.

“These are Cortlands. They’re a bit tart to suit me, but we can adjust the sugar. My favorite ones for pies are Northern Spies, but they aren’t picked until after the first frost,” Claire explained.

“So we have to wait for those?” Bree asked.

“Yes, but they make the best pies.”

“Can I come and make a pie when you have Northern Spies?”

“You certainly may,” Claire affirmed with a smile.

“Me too?” Ashley piped up.

“You too.”

Ashley smiled happily. “I bet my mommy would like to learn to make pies too.”

“You ask her, Ashley, and if she wants to some, we can have a pie making day,” Claire said.

“That would be great!” Ashley replied.

“How are those apples coming?” Claire asked.

“It’s a lot of apples, Grandma Claire,” Bree advised her.

“I know, but we’re making three pies.”

“We are?”

“Yes, so we’ll need a lot of apples,” Claire told her. “My dough is ready so I’m going to roll it out and put the bottoms in the pie plates.”

“Just the bottoms?” Bree asked.

“It would be hard to fill the pie with apples if the top was already on,” Claire chuckled.

“Oh yeah,” Bree said blushing.

“That’s okay, Bree,” Bobby said. “I had to learn how to slice apples properly. I would have just chopped them up, but Claire likes them evenly sliced and sliced very thin.”

“And I hope that’s just what you’re doing,” Claire told him.

“Yes, ma’am.” Bobby winked at Bree who giggled.

The pie making went along smoothly until the boys and their fathers returned from the treehouse. They were carrying the cleaning equipment which John proceeded to put away in the cupboard where his mother always kept it.

“I hope that treehouse is shipshape for the boys,” Claire said.

“We all did a fine job,” John assured her.

“It’s quite a treehouse,” Mitchell stated.

“Yes it is,” Claire agreed. “I remember when Brian first wanted to build that thing. He had no experience building anything.”

“But we all worked together and it turned out just fine,” Bobby tossed in.

“Better than fine,” Mitchell said. “Well, I better get going.”

“Would you like to stay for dinner?” Claire asked. “I’m about to take the roast out of the oven and put in the pies.”

“Are those apple pies?” Mitchell asked looking with longing at the pies that Claire was laying the top crust on. “They look wonderful.”

“They sure are apple – homemade apple pie. So, why don’t you join us?”

“Let me make a phone call and I’ll let you know,” Mitchell said heading to the screen porch as he pulled out his cell phone.

“He has to check with my mom,” Chet stated with a sour look on his face.

“It’s always good to let people know where you are,” John averred. Chet made no comment.

“John, would you lift the roast out of the oven and let it rest on the back of the stove,” Claire requested. “Once we crimp the edges of the pies, they’re ready for the oven.”

“What’s crimp?” Ashley asked.

“You squeeze the edges to seal them together,” Bree informed her friend. She had watched her Grandma Claire make lots of pies and had asked that same question.

“Why don’t you and Ashley each take a pie and I’ll show you how to crimp the edges,” Claire said.

The girls watched as Claire rippled the edges of the pie shell with her fingers. They tried to follow suit, but were a lot less successful at it than the older lady.

“Excellent!” Claire said as Bree and Ashley each worked their way around the pie.

“Theirs don’t look as good as yours,” Patrick observed, earning a death glare from Bree.

“The girls are doing just fine for their first time,” Claire corrected her grandson. “I dare say you and Chet couldn’t do as well.”

Bree beamed at her grandmother, and Patrick looked sheepish. He hadn’t expected his grandmother to take the girls’ side.

Mitchell returned from the screen porch. “I’d love to stay for dinner if the offer is still on the table.”

“Most assuredly,” Claire said. She placed the pies in the oven. “Now, we do twenty minutes at 425 degrees and then we turn it down for the next forty minutes.

“Why?” Bree asked.

“So it will cook,” Chet piped up, and he and Patrick snickered.

Claire gave them both a look. “The high heat at the beginning sets the crust so that we don’t get soggy bottoms on the pies,” she explained. “I’m always glad when you girls ask questions. It will help you learn more than just blindly following instructions.”

Bree gave Patrick a triumphant look as she listened to Claire’s explanation. “Do you want me and Ashley to set the table?” she asked.

“That would be lovely. Dinner should be ready in about half an hour.”

The girls went to collect the cutlery and dishes they would need.

“How be us menfolk have a game of horseshoes?” John asked.

“I’ve never played horseshoes,” Mitch admitted.

“Then it’s time you learned. Call us when you’re ready for dinner,” John told his mother as the men all headed out through the screen porch.

“Just like men to go off and play some game while us women do the work,” Claire said.

“Yeah, boys are dumb,” Bree agreed. She and Ashley continued to set the table.

“I didn’t say they were dumb, just … different,” Claire said choosing that word carefully. She had felt some of the tension between Bree and Patrick and she didn’t much like it.

“How come Patrick doesn’t like me anymore?” Bree said forlornly. “I didn’t do nuthin’.”

“I’m sure you didn’t,” Claire said reassuringly. “Patrick is getting to an age where his interests are changing. He’s growing up.”

“So am I,” Bree stated.

“Yes,” Claire said with a chuckle. After the table was set and the potatoes and vegetables almost cooked Claire said to the girls, “Go call the menfolk for dinner.”

 

*****
 

“That was a fabulous meal, Mrs. McNally,” Mitch said as he cleaned his plate. Everyone around the table nodded in agreement.

“Mother has always been a great cook,” John said with a warm smile to the woman who had raised him.

“Thank you both, but I cook plain and simple,” Claire replied.

“And delicious,” Mitch added. Mitch looked at his son and gave a little jerk of his head.

“Thanks for dinner,” Chet said in response. “It was good.”

“Thanks, Chet, I hope you enjoyed it. I hope you can stay for pie,” Claire said. “The girls and I had fun making them and they smelled delicious when I took them out of the oven. They should be cooled off in a little while.”

“I’d love to,” Mitch said. Chet didn’t look too pleased that his father was staying.

 

*****
 

As the sun began to set, and after everyone had enjoyed the delicious apple pies, John took the boys out to the treehouse to get them settled for the night. He made sure they had water and snacks and some cards and games. He left a battery powered lantern so they would have light.

Chet and Patrick played some cards and then a board game, but soon they snuggled down in their sleeping bags getting ready to sleep.

“This Bree is your cousin, right?” Chet asked.

“Yeah.”

“She seems more like your sister.”

“Well, she’s my cousin,” Patrick said with a frown.

“She’s bossy.”

“Yeah, I guess she can be.”

“I don’t like her very much.”

“She’s okay,” Patrick said.

“Where are her parents?”

“They’re in Florida on vacation.”

“When are they coming back?”

“I’m not sure. Soon, I think.”

“Then maybe she’ll leave us alone,” Chet griped.

“What do you mean?”

“Everything we do, she has to do it too.”

“She’s not up here with us,” Patrick said.

“Thank God! But she’s here at the farm. It would be nice to do things without her being around.”

“Bree and I have spent a lot of time together,” Patrick tried to explain.

“Too much time. She’s a baby.”

“No, she’s just … younger.”

“Let’s try to leave her at home if we do something together. Okay?” Chet asked.

“I guess so,” Patrick said uncertainly. He knew his dads wouldn’t like that, and neither would Bree. He turned off the lantern and snuggled down into his sleeping bag.

 

*****
 

“You think the boys will be all right out there by themselves?” Bobby asked as he and John climbed into bed.

“They’re not children,” John said in his best imitation of his son. “I have been duly informed of this fact by our son.”

“He is almost a teenager.”

“I know. It’s bloody scary.”

“Let’s not think about it tonight,” Bobby said. “Make love to me, John.”

John smiled and turned out the light. He was happy to oblige.

 

*****
 

“Do you think Patrick and Chet are having fun?” Ashley asked as they lay in the big bed in the guestroom.

“I hope not,” Bree replied sleepily.

“That’s mean.”

“They’ve been mean to me.”

“Maybe they’ll get scared if animals start howling.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Bree said hopefully. Anything that would upset the boys would be appreciated.

“Do you think there are animals out there?” Ashley asked fearfully.

“No,” Bree replied. “I don’t think we’ll be that lucky. Night, Ashley.”

“Night, Bree.”
 

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