Chapter 9

"John!" Bobby called out from his car window over to his spouse. John, Gordon and their crew were adding the finishing touches to the cottage. The landscapers were done; all that was left was to install the picket fence. The stone fence posts were already in place. Bobby drove down the lane instead of walking. He brought a large cooler of bottled water and soda for the men. It was late June and very warm.

"Hey, Babe," John smiled and waved at Bobby. It took only a few long strides to get to Bobby's car. John stuck his head into the window to give Bobby a big wet kiss. Bobby laughed, blushed, then pushed John's face out of the window.

"Not in front of the men, John," Bobby groused good naturedly. John chuckled as he heard Gordon and the work crew simultaneously all say, "Awwww!" Bobby's blush deepened. John and Bobby brought the cooler of beverages to the men.

"This is so beautiful," Bobby gushed. "You guys did a fabulous job." Bobby sounded a bit too much like one of the intended occupants of the new cottage. "When does the furniture arrive?"

"Next Tuesday," John replied as he swiped his brow with a cold bottle of water.

"It's going to seem weird not having a Fourth of July shindig. We've hosted one for years now," Bobby commented.

"True. Danny deciding to throw one of his own really worked in our favor. Most of the gang will be there on Sunday. We can have a quiet one here on Monday, just us and the crew, of course."

The plan was to keep Emmett away from Edna's Treasures and Brian's private lane until the new cottage was complete. Drew had made several trips to the cottage on the sly, in order to get a feel for the place and order the furniture he felt sure Emmett would approve of. It would be Brian's job to lure Emmett up to the cottage when Drew gave him the word. Danny hosting his first family holiday barbecue was fortuitous. John and Brian decided to have a smaller get together for the 'country' relatives and for Gordon and company. The number one work crew of Anderson Construction hustled to get the cottage done in time so that Emmett and Drew could enjoy most of the summer there if they chose.

Soon break time was over. John, Gordon and their men got back to work. Bobby went back to Edna's Treasures.

*****

"Hey, thought I'd find you here," John said softly to Brian. Brian and Beau had gone for a long walk in the moonlight and wound up at the new cottage. John patted his chest and Beau rose up on his hind legs to greet John. Beau's paw had healed well.

"It's beautiful, John. He'll love it. I can almost hear the squealing. Even the garden is gorgeous." Brian laughed at himself.

"What?"

"Emmett isn't here yet and I'm beginning to sound like him already." Brian smirked then shook his head. John chuckled before embracing his brother.

"You did good, little brother. Emmett is going to love it up here."

"We did good. I just bought up the land, with your help, of course. It was your design, your crew's workmanship that made this ton of rocks into a home. And the garden, I think I'm jealous."

"You shouldn't be. You designed this garden and instructed the landscaper on what plants to use. The greenhouse is genius. Who knew that Brian Kinney had such a green thumb?"

"Not me, that's for sure. Emmett's been a good friend, and Drew has been an asset to Kinnetik. Drew has made Emmett so happy. They deserve this." The brothers remained quiet for a while. The night air was filled with the quiet sounds of crickets, distant frogs and the rustling of leaves. Brian inhaled deeply. "Smell that." John inhaled. "That's roses and lavender, also fresh mint. Listen, that's the bamboo we planted along the fence. It's a soothing sound."

"You did your homework."

Brian shrugged. "Drew asked for my opinion; I gave it. He's been a little concerned about Emmett lately. Drew is hoping that Emmett will take some time off to relax."

"Burning the candle at both ends?"

"More like burning the pastry dough. Emmett's been at this for a long time now. He needs to hire some good people. After Drew and Emmett celebrate their new home, I promised Drew to help him convince Emmett to hire reliable full time associates. I have a list of applicants. Emmett's getting too old to do this one man act."

"Don't let him hear you call him old."

"He's not old, not like you, big brother," Brian snarked. John snorted. "But he's a highly successful business owner. Apparently, doing the catering for Molly's wedding has brought Emmett closer to the elite. As a result, we have one exhausted fairy godmother. He spends so much time sending us Cinderellas to the ball that he forgets to take care of himself."

"Then we'll remind him. Come on, little bro, let's get back to the house before they send out a search party. I have more 'Get Smart' DVD's." John waggled his eyebrows.

"Got any 'Monty Python'?"

"And now for something completely different..."

"The Larch." The laughter of the brothers Kinney wafted through the air.

*****

"Patrick, come and play with me in the playhouse?" Bree asked batting her lashes at her cousin.

"No, that playhouse is dumb. I'm going outside to play with Beau," Patrick declared.

"Me too," Bree said as Patrick headed for the door.

"No, you can't come. You're just a dumb girl."

"No I not."

"Yes you are. All girls are dumb," Patrick stated as he and Beau went out the sun porch door. He slammed the door behind him.

"Patrick," Bree whimpered. She didn't know why Patrick didn't like her anymore. It seemed like everything she did lately was bad in Patrick's eyes. He said she couldn't catch a ball and couldn't draw a proper rainbow. It seemed like he didn't think she could do anything. And now he called her dumb. The first tears trailed down her cheeks. She turned to run to her fathers only to find her Uncle John standing behind her.

"What's the matter, little lady?" he asked gently, seeing the tears.

Bree gulped back more tears and managed to say, "Patrick."

"Was that him slamming the door just now?"

Bree nodded. "He said I'm dumb."

"He did what?" John asked. The look on his face told Bree that her uncle was not happy.

"He said I'm dumb, all girls are dumb. I not dumb."

"You certainly aren't, princess. How would you like me to take you over to the swing and push you way up high? Would you like that?"

"Yes," Bree said nodding her head.

"Okay, then let's wipe away these tears," John said grabbing a tissue and wiping Bree's face. He held it over her nose for her to blow. "Good girl."

"Take Muñequita too?" Bree asked picking up her dolly.

"Sure thing. Muñequita might like a ride on the swing too." John took Bree's hand and they went outside.

Patrick was over at one side of the yard throwing a stick for Beau to retrieve. He ran over when he saw his father and Bree come out of the house. "Hey, Dad," he said ignoring Bree. John kept walking towards the swing, his hand firmly holding onto Bree's. "Dad, where are you going?"

"I'm giving Bree a push on the swing," John said abruptly.

"Me too."

"'Fraid not, Sonny Boy. I promised Bree."

"But Dad…"

"Go play with Beau and I'll play with the dumb girls," John said making it clear that he was repeating Patrick's words back to him.

"Dad?"

"You heard me. Bree and I are playing on the swing."

Patrick watched his father lead Bree over to the swing and lift her and her doll into the seat. John made sure that Muñequita was firmly tucked in beside Bree so that she wouldn't fall. Soon John had Bree and Muñequita soaring high much to the delight of the little girl. Her squeals of glee filled the air. Patrick watched and listened until he couldn't stand it anymore. He ran over to his father.

"Dad?"

"What is it, Patrick?" John asked letting his annoyance with his son come through clearly in his voice.

Patrick looked at his father. He knew something was wrong. His father didn't use that tone with him often, but when he did, it usually meant that he was in big trouble. He hesitated and then decided to act like nothing was out of the ordinary. Maybe the problem would go away. "Um, I wondered if you you'd push me on the swing … when you're done with Bree."

"Since you ask so nicely," John replied. "I think that can be arranged."

Patrick smiled. Everything seemed to be all right. His father's voice sounded normal that time. He waited patiently as John continued to push Bree and make her squeal. After a few minutes John stopped pushing the swing and gradually the arc of its rise descended.

"Did you have fun, Bree?" John asked.

"Yes, Unca John." She smiled sweetly as he lifted her from the seat of the swing and set her on the ground. He made sure Muñequita made it safely into her arms.

"Run inside and get a drink from your father, princess," John instructed.

Bree reached up and tugged at John's arm until he bent down so she could kiss him. "'Kay, Unca John., thank you." She gave Patrick a Kinney death glare before running into the sun porch.

Patrick was already sitting on the swing by the time John sent Bree off to the house. John turned to face his son.

"Ready, Dad," Patrick said innocently.

"We have something to talk about before I push you on the swing," John replied very seriously.

"We do?" Patrick asked with a frown.

"Why did you call Bree dumb?"

"I didn't…"

"Don't lie, Patrick. That will only make things worse. Why did you say that?"

"Because girls are dumb," Patrick declared.

"And when did you decide that?"

"All the boys at school think girls are dumb."

"Does that make it so?" John asked, appalled at what his son was saying to him.

"But … that's what they say. It must be true, and I don't want to hang around dumb girls."

"I'm going to tell you something very important, son," John said solemnly. "I want you to listen very carefully. Can you do that?"

"Yes, Dad."

"There will be a lot of people in this world who will try to tell you what you should think or feel about a lot of things. They don't always know what's right or true. You have to decide those things for yourself, and not let the crowd mentality influence you."

Patrick frowned. "I'm not sure what you mean, Dad."

"You love Bree, don't you?"

"Sure. I guess."

"Did you want to hurt her?"

"Gee, no, I didn't want to hurt her. It's just that she follows me around all the time and tries to do everything I do. She's not very good at most of it. She's a pest."

"You did hurt her, Patrick. She was crying when I found her in the sun porch."

"Oh?" Patrick said, the light beginning to dawn. "Sorry."

"It's Bree that you need to say sorry to."

"Okay, I will. I didn't mean…"

"You may not have meant to hurt her, but you did. Sometimes you need to think about how your words will affect someone, before you say them."

"Okay, Dad," Patrick agreed. He was sorry for hurting his cousin, but that didn't make her any less of a pest. Girls were dumb.

"Why do you think Bree follows you around all the time, Patrick?" John asked.

"She's a pest."

John shook his head. Obviously he wasn't getting through to his son. "She follows you around because she looks up to you, Son. She tries to do everything that you do because she wants to be just like you."

"But she's a girl."

"So?"

"She can't be just like me, if she's a girl," Patrick stated.

"Do you like to do things with Gus?" John asked.

"Yeah, Gus is great. He's a boy."

"He's also ten years older than you."

Patrick frowned. "Yeah?"

"You're older than Bree. She looks up to you, like you look up to Gus."

"But…"

"There is no but. Bree counts on you to teach her things. Why do you think she does everything you do? She wants to be with you and learn from you, Son. You hurt her feelings today."

"But sometimes I don't like her hanging around. She's not very good at catching a ball."

John sighed. "She's also two years younger than you. Two years ago, you weren't very good at throwing or catching a ball."

"I wasn't?" Patrick asked in surprise. It seemed like he had always known how to throw a ball and catch it, not like Bree who only caught it about half the times.

"And do you remember who helped you learn to catch and throw?"

"You and Poppa."

"And Gus."

"Yeah."

"Well, I'd like to see you help Bree instead of criticize her all the time. Do you think you can do that?"

"I guess so," Patrick replied. "But do I have to help her all the time?"

"Of course not," John smiled. "But I don't want you telling her that she can't ever play with you either."

"Okay, Dad."

"Bree will be starting at your school before you know it, and you will need to look out for her."

"I will?"

"If you're the good kid I know you are, you will," John said with a smile at his son.

Patrick smiled back. "I can do that."

"I know you can."

"Sorry, Dad."

"Don't forget to tell Bree that."

"I won't."

"Now, how about that swing?"

*****

"Bree?" Patrick came into Briana's room to apologize or at least to find out if the girl was still speaking to him. After their altercation, Bree spent the remainder of the day avoiding her cousin and supposed best friend. It was the hardest thing she had ever done so far in her short life. She loved Patrick in spite of the hurt she felt. He was her hero. Bree looked up to him just like she looked up to Unca John and Unca Bobby. But now she was feeling weird about Patrick. If Briana was older she would have recognized the emotion as betrayal.

"Yeah," Bree replied coolly.

"I'm sorry," Patrick said apologetically. Bree remained silent. Somehow, sorry just wasn't enough.

"Can I stay here and play with you?" Bree wanted to say yes, but the word wouldn't come out so she said nothing. Bree's hands were occupied with her grey bunny.

"Maybe we can go to the playhouse later?" Patrick asked hopefully. Bree shrugged then turned away. Patrick had never been rejected like this before. He stood with his mouth gaping open wide then he felt tears beginning to well up. He quietly slipped out of Bree's room then walked back to his side of Edna's Treasures.

The adults were relaxing in the sun porch. John and Justin filled in their partners about what had transpired earlier between Bree and Patrick. They all watched as a very dejected Patrick walked past then disappeared into his side of the house. Both children had been very quiet during dinner, not sitting near each other or looking at each other. The adults were not quite sure how to help.

"I feel so helpless," Bobby said sadly.

"We should find a way of bringing them together," Justin said confidently.

"WE should let them work it out for themselves," Brian said softly. John said nothing but inwardly he agreed with Brian.

"But Brian..." Justin started to protest.

"No, Sunshine, this is something they need to settle on their own without interference."

"How can you say that? They're babies; they don't know what's good for them."

"You're right, they don't and neither do we. What I do know is that interference and misunderstanding nearly drove us apart, permanently."

Justin was becoming angry, not understanding Brian's reluctance to step in and force the children to come to an understanding. "Brian, you are so wrong," Justin spat as Brian pulled his hesitant lover onto his lap.

"Then sue me," Brian snarked before he changed his tone. "Justin, give them time to work it out. If we're still in the middle of the big freeze by lunchtime tomorrow then we'll step in. But for now, leave them be."

"Brian, it hurts seeing them angry at each other."

"I know that, Jus. And sooner or later they'll experience more hurt and we won't always be there to help. Just until lunch, please, for me."

"Okay, just until lunch and not a second more," Justin acquiesced. "I need to paint," he announced as he removed himself from Brian's comfortable lap. He stomped to the studio side of the porch, adjusted the lights, put a canvas on an easel and began to prepare it.

Bobby was just as frustrated as Justin at the awkward turn of events. He pushed himself off his seat and went outside to the back of his end of the house. Along with the swing that John had put up, there was a pitching net. Bobby had dozens of baseballs that he kept in buckets. When he felt the need to vent, he'd grab his old baseball glove, a bucket of balls and start throwing.

"Was I wrong?" Brian asked John as he watched Justin slap gobs of paint angrily onto his canvas then slice into it with a palette knife. John shook his head then motioned for his brother to follow him outside. Beau trotted along behind them as they walked on the path toward the stream.