KIDZ

Chapter 2

“Patrick?”

“What?” Patrick asked as he hurled another baseball at the target his fathers had erected for him in the backyard of the cottage.

Bree watched the ball hit almost in the center of the circle painted on the board. “You’re doing good.”

“Thanks,” Patrick said with a smile as he retrieved the baseball when it bounced back in his direction. “What do you want?”

Bree frowned. She could tell by the tone of voice that Patrick didn’t really want to be interrupted. Bree watched him plant his feet, wind up and throw the ball again. This one was clearly outside the circle on the target.

“Too bad,” she commiserated.

“You’re distracting me.”

“Sowwy,” Bree said in her baby voice. She didn’t like it when Patrick was mad at her.

Patrick heaved a sigh and turned to face his cousin and friend. “What’s wrong, Bree?” Patrick asked as he saw the hurt look on her face.

“It’s okay,” Bree said quickly. “I didn’t mean to bother you.” She turned and headed back to the sun porch.

“Bree, wait,” Patrick said. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Bree turned around and stared into Patrick’s eyes. He really did look like he wanted her to tell him. “I wanted you to help me.”

“Help you? Help you do what?”

Bree looked around. She knew her fathers were around somewhere but she wasn’t sure where. “Come into the Wendy house.”

Patrick followed her into the playhouse. They sat down on the cushions on the floor. Beau joined them as soon as they got settled. The big dog laid across the entranceway keeping his charges safe. He looked at them with liquid brown eyes.

“What’s up, Bree?” Patrick asked.

“I want to get a job.”

Patrick tried not to laugh, but a chuckle escaped.

“It’s not funny!” Bree said adamantly.

“But you’re too young,” Patrick protested.

“Am not.”

“Bree, you know you are.”

“But everybody else gets to have a summer job – Gus and JR and Curtis and Candy. They all work with their parents. That’s what I want to do too.”

“What kind of work could you do for your fathers?”

“Um … I don’t know, but I could do something. Candy said she’s going to be a gofer. I could be a gofer.”

“You don’t even know what a gofer is,” Patrick informed her.

“Do so!”

“Okay, what’s a gofer?”

“You go get stuff like coffee and sandwiches and … other stuff.”

“You can’t even reach the coffee pot,” Patrick said with a laugh.

“You’re mean!”

“I’m sorry, Bree, but that’s the truth. Your dads don’t let you carry coffee around the cottage.”

“They would … if I wanted to.”

“You have to be fourteen to get a real job,” Patrick stated.

“I’ll be fourteen … soon.”

“Not for quite a while. I’m not even fourteen yet.”

“Will you ask your dad to get my dad to let me have a job?” Bree asked.

“My dad won’t do that. You’re too young.”

“Will you stop saying that!?”

“The truth hurts, doesn’t it?”

“I don’t like you anymore!” Bree declared. She stood up and stomped her little foot in frustration. “I’m not talking to you ever again.”

Beau raised his head and let out a little woof. He didn’t like it when his humans weren’t happy, and something was obviously very wrong.

“Get out of the way, Beau!” Bree commanded as she marched out of the Wendy house scattering Beau from her path.

“Bree, wait!” Patrick called as he made to follow her.

Bree never let on that she heard him. She marched into the sun porch slamming the door behind her.

“What happened, Beau?” Patrick asked the big dog as he leaned down and dug his fingers into the long soft fur around Beau’s neck. Beau reached up and licked his face. “You’re no wiser about this than I am.” Beau gave a woof of agreement.

A little while later, John found Patrick sitting on the swing he had made for JR. Patrick wasn’t swinging. He was merely sitting there staring off into space.

“You okay, Patrick?” John asked.

“Bree hates me.”

“What?”

“She’s really mad at me, and she said she doesn’t like me anymore.”

“What caused that?” John began to push his son on the swing thinking that might make it easier for Patrick to talk if he didn’t have to look at his father.

“Stop, Dad,” Patrick commanded. “I’m not a baby.”

John stopped pushing the swing and Patrick put his foot down bringing the swing to a halt.

“I know you’re not a baby, son.”

“Sorry, Dad, but Bree’s really upset.”

“What about?”

“She wants to get a job because Gus and JR and Candy, and everybody has a job. She wants to be just like them.”

“But they’re almost ten years older than she is.”

“I know that,” Patrick stated. “I tried to tell her she was too young, but she doesn’t care. She wanted me to get you to talk Uncle Brian or Uncle Justin into giving her a job.”

“Is that right?”

“Yep, but when I told her she was too young to have a job, she said she didn’t like me anymore and that she was never talking to me again.”

“And that has you upset?”

“Well, yeah, I don’t like it when she’s mad at me.”

“I’ll talk to Brian and Justin about it.”

“Just … don’t make it worse, Dad,” Patrick pleaded.

“I’ll try not to.”

 

*****
 

“Briana, come out here,” Brian called down the hall to Bree’s room. His daughter had been holed up in there for quite a while.

“Yes, Dada,” Bree said meekly as she arrived at the kitchen. She noted that her Uncle John was already sitting at the kitchen table along with her other father. Brian was standing in the doorway waiting for her to arrive.

“Sit down, young lady,” Brian said. “I believe we have a few things to straighten out.”

“Yes, Dada,” Bree said meekly. This looked real bad. She had a feeling she was in big trouble. She sat on the empty chair, and Brian sat next to her.

“Did you tell Patrick you hated him?”

“Oh no, Dada! I just said I didn’t like him no more,” Bree said earnestly.

“And what would be the difference between those two statements?” Brian asked.

Bree frowned. One sounded a lot worse than the other. She was sure she hadn’t said that she hated Patrick. “I don’t hate Patrick,” she stated aloud.

“Well that’s good,” Brian said.

“It’s not good to hate anyone, Bree. And you shouldn’t tell Patrick that you don’t like him. He’s your cousin and your friend,” Justin stated.

“I know, Daddy, but he made me mad.”

“Because he wouldn’t try to get me to talk your fathers into giving you a job,” John supplied.

Bree nodded sending her ponytail bobbing up and down. “I want a job like Gus and JR and everybody.”

“You’re not as old as they are,” Justin said reasonably.

“I can work,” Bree told them. “I’m strong.”

“We know you are, sweetheart,” Justin agreed. “But children your age are supposed to play and have fun. Jobs are for later.”

“I don’t want to play and have fun. I don’t want to stay here all by myself while everybody else goes to Pittsburgh and has all the fun.”

“You’re never all by yourself,” Brian said. “And I doubt the others are having half as much fun as you think they are.”

“I want to get a job and be … independent.”

“Is that right?”

“Yes, Dada.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“I don’t like you either!” Bree said angrily.

“Go to your room!” Brian ordered. Bree stood up to leave. “And you better come out of that room with a new and improved attitude, young lady!”

Bree stomped down the hall and slammed her bedroom door behind her.

“Well … that went well,” Brian said to the other two.

John and Justin merely shook their heads. Apparently telling Bree that she was too young to have a job wasn’t working quite the way they had hoped.

 

*****
 

"Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned / Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned," Brian mumbled to himself as he stared out of the sun porch windows toward the gardens. His gardens were his last peaceful refuge.

“Isn’t that Shakespeare?” John asked as he sidled close to his brother.

“No, a different William, William Congreve, from the play The Mourning Bride,” Brian responded matter-of-factly.

“And you know this because?” The stomping of little feet and the slamming of Bree’s bedroom door was John’s answer. “Ah,” was all that John said.

“So what do you intend to do?” John asked after a while, handing Brian a cold beer. They were joined at the windows by Justin and Bobby who brought the beers. Patrick stood next to Bobby with a bottle of root beer in his hand. “School is almost done.”

“She goes to day camp for two weeks with Ashley after the fourth,” Justin reminded them.

“That gives you about a two week reprieve,” Bobby interjected. “After that she’s going to want a final decision. Can’t you compromise?” Bobby asked.

“Compromise is a process of give and take,” Brian began after taking a long pull at his beer. “The only giving I see is on my part, me, giving into a nine year old so that she can work at Kinnetik. That’s not compromise, that’s capitulation. Besides, aren’t there something like child labor laws? I came close to bending those laws when I agreed to Gus interning at Kinnetik. He was still in high school.”

“So, you own the company. It’s only natural for your son to take an interest in the business and follow in his father’s footsteps,” John stated logically.

“Yeah, Uncle Bri,” Patrick spoke up. “I’m spending the summer with my dad. He’s going to let me trail him on jobs and stuff,” Patrick said proudly.

Brian turned to stare at his nephew for a moment then his eyes searched the grey-blue ones of his brother-in-law. Bobby smiled; Brian’s eyebrow went up. Bobby nodded reassuringly to Brian’s unspoken question. Bobby was okay with the fact that his son had little interest in law but would most likely follow his father in the construction business. But Patrick was developing a mean curve ball. Bobby was satisfied that his son took after him when it came to baseball.

“Brian, remember that campaign that was started years ago, Take Your Daughter to Work Day?” Justin asked. Brian shook his head. “It was designed to get young girls interested in the workplace and to show them the benefits of getting an education. It was eventually expanded to include boys. This is no different,” Justin stated.

“And if I did agree to this, I still see no compromise on Bree’s part. She’s been stomping and pouting around here for days now. I won’t tolerate that behavior at Kinnetik. Besides, most of what I do is pretty boring. I sit and stare at a computer screen all day reviewing contracts and campaigns.”

“But Molly doesn’t do that or Ted or Cynthia,” Justin added.

“And who says Bree must stay there all day,” Bobby said. “Aren’t you working on a new show?” Bobby asked Justin who nodded.

“Didn’t I overhear Lindsay say at the barbecue that Charles Higgins was planning to be in town?” John asked.

“Yes, we’re trying to decide which paintings to send to London,” Justin replied with a sigh. “Sidney wants to stick to my classical pieces while Charles wants more of my abstracts.”

“Let Bree hang out at Kinnetik in the morning then after lunch she goes to the gallery,” Patrick stated with a shrug to his broadening shoulders. At almost twelve, Patrick was already taller than his red-headed father. He’d be reaching “Kinney” height soon.

“Out of the mouths of babes,” John murmured with a proud grin, knocking his shoulder into his son’s.

“I’m still not hearing a compromise,” Brian grumbled.

“Brian, don’t you have rules of conduct at Kinnetik. I seem to recall Cynthia sending Gus a whole packet of papers for him to study before he even set foot at Kinnetik,” Justin said with a sly smile. “What’s good for the gander…”

“Is good for the goose,” Brian finished Justin’s thought. “She is only nine, Sunshine,” he said with frown. Brian wouldn’t do anything that could possibly sadden his daughter, not even when she was acting like a spoiled brat.

“Bri, you said it yourself, Briana is an exceptional young lady. She is very smart; she can handle it,” John said knowingly. Patrick nodded in agreement.

“I’ll help her, Uncle Bri. There’s nothing in those rules that says she can’t get help reading them, is there?”

“No, Lil Red, there’s no reason why you can’t help. But are we, I mean me… am I giving in to her just to keep the peace?” Brian asked sadly.

“Brian, I think she’s earned the right to try,” Bobby said gently. “Both she and Patrick have done very well at school,” said with a father’s pride. “She’s shown an interest in what you do and we all know how much she loves to paint and draw like her daddy. Yes, she’s young but why fight genetics and nurture? Bree takes after her dads just like Patrick does,” Bobby stated with a sunny smile for his son. Patrick looped his arm around his father’s waist.

Brian finished off his beer as he stared off out into his garden. He turned to study the faces of the men that made up his family. Coming to a decision, Brian handed Justin his empty bottle then turned to go up the spiral stairs that led to his office.

“Justin, would you send Bree up?” Brian asked as the king prepared to handle his princess from his throne.

“Sure, Bri,” Justin called after him then walked into their side of the cottage to get Bree.

“Think they’ll be all right?” Bobby asked as John herded his men toward their side of the conjoined cottages.

“They’ll be fine,” John stated with confidence. “As much as we tease Brian about Bree having him twisted around her little finger, I have no doubt that Brian will say and do the right things.”

“I hope so,” Bobby said as Patrick nodded in agreement. “Having Briana Victoria Kinney-Taylor upset is one thing; having Brian Kinney upset is a whole ‘nother story.”

Three heads nodded as they walked into their cottage.

 

*****
 

“Dada?” a little voice called out as Bree rounded the steps up to her father’s office.

“In here, Briana,” Brian answered somewhat formally. Brian smirked as he heard Bree sigh. It was the same sigh his employees made when they knew they were about to be chewed up and spit out by one Brian fucking Kinney. Brian felt his confidence bolster up a notch.

“Hi, Dada, Daddy said you wanted to talk to me,” Bree said as she entered the inner sanctum.

“Have a seat,” Brian pointed to a chair near his desk. Bree knew this was going to be a serious conversation when her Dada didn’t offer his lap for her to sit in. Bree hopped up into the chair.

“I’d like to discuss your recent behavior…”

“Dada…” Whatever Bree had wanted to say was cut off by Brian’s raised hand.

“Briana, you’ve been stomping and grumbling around this house for weeks, now it’s my turn to speak,” Brian said sternly with a no nonsense arch of his brow.

“Yes, Dada,” Bree said, resigned to her fate.

“Briana, you can not work at Kinnetik,” Brian stated succinctly. Bree opened her mouth to protest but Brian interrupted her. “Let me finish.” Bree shut her mouth. “There are laws that must be followed. Laws that protect the rights of children and are designed to prevent the exploitation of children. Do you understand what that means?”

Bree nodded. Between her history lessons and current events discussions at school, Bree had an idea what her father was talking about.

“Kinnetik can’t hire you just like we couldn’t hire Gus until he reached a certain age. And even then he couldn’t work longer than a certain amount of hours. If he did then Kinnetik would have been in violation of those child labor laws. If Kinnetik doesn’t follow the rules, we won’t be allowed to hire interns in the future.”

Brian paused to allow that bit of information to sink in.

“But I really want to work there,” Bree said in a tiny voice and looking down. She suddenly found the tops of her sneakers fascinating.

“Bree, I had a chat with Cynthia and some of the top people at Kinnetik. We’ve agreed to allow you to volunteer at Kinnetik after you’ve completed day camp. We will set up a schedule which may include putting in some time at the ‘school.’ Uncle Ted knows how smart you are in math so he plans to have you work on a couple of projects with him. Aunt Molly has a few things in mind for you as well. Then after lunch your Daddy will take you to the gallery. He and Uncle Sidney will have things for you to do there.”

Bree suddenly beamed a brilliant smile so like her father. Brian worked hard at controlling his emotions when he saw that smile.

“Now, I have some important papers from Cynthia for you to read. Take this pad and pencil so if you have any questions you can write them down and we can discuss it. We’re all prepared to help you with this assignment, even Patrick said he’d help so don’t be afraid to ask any of us. Okay?”

“Yes, Dada,” Bree said as her eyes grew wide when her father handed her a tall stack of papers along with the pad and pencil. “Do I have to read it all today?”

“No, you have plenty of time. Just have them all read before you start at Kinnetik.”

“Oh, okay,” Bree said visibly relieved. Bree stood up preparing to go back downstairs, although she wasn’t sure how she was going to get down the stairs with all those papers. Brian smiled to himself as he handed Bree a small lavender tote bag that was just the right size to hold all of her papers including the pad.

“Thank you, Dada,” she said with a bright smile.

“You’re welcome, Squirt,” Brian smiled back. Bree relaxed, she was the “Squirt” again. All was right in her world once again.

“Dada, what does a volunteer wear?” Bree asked with her eyebrows knitted together.

Brian resisted chuckling. “Well, most of my employees wear business attire,” Brian answered. Bree frowned. “Do you remember what Cynthia wears?” Bree nodded.

“Do I hafta wear a suit?” Miss Cynthia always looked pretty but her suits looked hot and it was summertime, Bree thought to herself.

“No, Cynthia and her assistant like to wear suits. So does Aunt Molly because she goes to a lot of meetings. Daddy and I will go through your wardrobe to find the right dresses and things. Okay?”

“Oh, yes, Dada!” Bree exclaimed as she launched herself into her Dada’s arms. “I love you, Dada,” Bree said as she peppered Brian’s face with kisses.

“Love you too, Squirt,” Brian said when his throat began to work again. “I love you so much,” he whispered. “All right, go, take your papers and start reading. You may think you have a long time before you start ‘work’ but you’ll be surprised how fast the time will go,” Brian said as he gently pushed Bree back then helped her steady the tote bag across her body so she could walk down the stairs.

“Okay, Dada!” Bree said with one last kiss for her father before she straightened her spine, standing as tall and proud as she could make her petite body before she walked down the stairs. When her little feet hit the slate of the sun porch floor, she called out for her best friend in the whole world.

“PAATWWICK!” Bree called out. The men of Edna’s Treasures snickered softly to themselves as a red-headed tornado ran out into the sun porch.

“What is it, Bree?” Patrick asked, having a good idea what Bree wanted. Bree held out the tote bag.

“Can you help me?” Bree asked, using her most coy expression. Patrick arched one red eyebrow. “Pleeeeezzz?” Bree amended her plea.

“Sure.”

“Yay!” Bree jumped up and down then gave Patrick a hug and a kiss. Patrick automatically swiped at the moist spot on his cheek before settling them both at one of the wicker tables in the porch.

Brian from his balcony, Justin from the doorway at his end of the cottage and John and Bobby from their doorway all sported the same satisfied grins.

Peace had returned to Edna’s Treasures.

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