63: It Takes a Village

By Labor Day weekend, we were all pretty much in the groove of school and ready for a day off and the big celebration. Not only that, but I was looking forward to several visits from parents and dreading one. The triplets were hosting their parents this weekend. I had absolutely no idea what to expect. But first, there was John.

"Are you sure this is okay, Brian?" John asked as we toured the new development. He'd asked the same question every weekend this summer. We walked around the trenches for septic systems and water lines. Flags stuck up where the electric and telephone lines would be buried. There was so much infrastructure that had to be completed before construction could begin.

"You know, John, I have no idea how we got to this point in our relationship. When I first met you, I was scared to death. I just wanted to take your little girl to a party. Now ... I truly feel you are like a second father to me," I said. "I couldn't be happier that you are moving down here."

"Well, the feeling is mutual. It might surprise you, but when I met you, I was scared of you, too," he said thoughtfully. The first three lots that would be developed would include a new home for John and Bea. Marshall and Martha would have the first one. Dinita Kimes was planning to move into the third house. Hers was a little more isolated than the first two and was tucked up against the back of our property. Her lifestyle required a little more privacy and access to what had been termed 'the nudist ranch.'

"How could I scare you?" I laughed.

"I looked at you and saw the boy that would take my little girl away from me," he said, shaking his head. "I wanted to chase you away. I wanted to build a wall around our property so you couldn't get to her. You were a threat to everything I had and everything I believed."

"I guess we both had to do some growing, didn't we."

"Yes. But Brian, when I eventually realized that you and Josh would be my sons and that Mary would be another daughter ... That changed everything. Moving here ... It's not that I want to keep my daughter under my wing. It's that I want to be closer to my children ... and my grandchildren." We walked out to the road and past the front of the ranch. "Do you know how to calculate the value of a cornfield this size in yield and land value?" he asked. "I think I want to buy it if the clan is amenable. That would enable us to extend the perimeter of the community."

"You can do that? I mean, just buy a farm?" I asked. Wow! We'd maxed out our borrowing power to develop the village infrastructure. Of course, the investment in infrastructure was added into the cost of each unit and there was a moderate tax on the ranch as well since we'd be upgrading our power and water sources. The frame for the new water tower was the major expense. That tank would end up costing us close to two hundred grand. But we couldn't just sink a dozen wells all over the property and expect that we wouldn't have conflicts or drain the aquifer. The water tower was not all that high as it was being built on the highest point of the land we had available. Still, the well that would fill it was nearly two hundred feet deep.

"Well, I've been thinking that I'm not ready to give up my little hobby. Don't you think the town of Corazón, Indiana needs an airstrip?" He grinned at me. Well, hell, yeah.

"You know," I said, "I can't imagine it at the moment. Maybe if I could get a look at it from the sky I could see what you mean."

"Son, let's go flying," he said.

We went into the little office at the Monroe County Airport and John put in his request. He picked up a little book from the person behind the counter and handed it to me.

"You should start keeping a log of your time in the air," he said. What? I looked through the little book. It looked almost like the mileage book my dad kept in his car. "Now let's do the walk around on the aircraft and you can read my checklist for me."

And that, to my surprise, started my first flying lesson in John's yellow Piper Cub.

I got so caught up in the flying and talking to John that I almost forgot my purpose in photographing our community. Jennifer had provided the camera and two rolls of color film. When we finished our survey, John gave me instructions on landing and we called in our approach. I watched the runway approach as John told me what was happening. It's weird to have the driver behind you! I was surprised when he told me to log two hours in my log book and he signed off on the level of instruction. When we went back into the airport office, he bought a student instruction book and told me that I needed to read it before I went up again.

"So, is there enough room in that field to put in a landing strip?" I asked. "I did look at the markings as we were coming in and BMG has a 3500-foot runway. That's more than half a mile and it's just barely half a mile from the road to the tree line in that field," I said. Of course, I was rattling back information that John had given me as we were flying, but he was pleased that I'd paid attention.

"BMG is a commercial, publicly owned airport. We landed on their short runway. You noticed the intersecting one as we came past it. It's 6,500 feet long. You flew from there in the University's plane this spring. I've brought the plane we were flying down in less than 500 feet. The airstrip I have in Mishawaka is only 1,000 feet. I'm not talking about a commercial airport, but a grass strip. We'd have plenty of room for a 1400-foot runway and that would accommodate almost any STOL aircraft," he said.

"I like the idea. I'll bet as many of our people would like to learn to fly as want to ride horses," I said. "The biggest problem I see is that there might be County restrictions on the development of agricultural land for what would be seen as a commercial purpose. We had to answer a lot of questions when we subdivided. We didn't have as much problem with the ranch because we were maintaining the twenty acres of agricultural land as garden and pasture and the ten acres of woodland. Taking a ten acre chunk out of the Jacobs' place was a different matter. We need to have Rex check it out for you."

"You're a good man, Brian. Let's drop your film off to be processed on the way back."

That was fine with me. I wasn't sure I wanted to hurry back and meet the triplets' parents.

I was happy to see my parents were at the house. Moral support! I didn't see any Kentucky license plates in the parking area.

"Did you take pictures of us while you were flying around?" Jennifer squealed as Courtney bounced beside her. "We waved."

"Um ... I don't know. I wasn't paying attention to which people were in the picture."

"Just like I said," Courtney jumped in. "He was only interested in taking pictures of Lexi and Samantha sunbathing nude on the deck."

"They weren't!" I said. I was horrified. Had John seen them? Everyone laughed.

"Of course they weren't, silly," Rose said, giving me a kiss. "We were all waving, though."

"Hi, Mom, Dad, Anna. Don't mind me. I'm just uh ... surrounded by crazy."

"Well, you won't mind knowing, then, that we're moving down here, too," Anna said. I moaned.

"Just not yet," Dad added. "We are reserving one of the lots, though, and have commissioned Rachel to design us a retirement home."

"But you're too young to retire," I said.

"That's for sure," Dad agreed. "But it's an investment for the future. If we don't get in on the ground floor, the prices will be too high for us to afford when we retire. Isn't that what the broker said, honey?" Mom nodded vigorously.

"Besides, we need a place to stay when we come down to visit our grandchildren," Mom said. "Where are you hiding my grandson?"

"Say 'I'm right here, Grandma'," Rhonda said as she bounced Matthew around and handed him off to Mom.

"And where's his mommy?" Anna asked. "We want to hug her, too." She was already hugging Rhonda and Rhonda was returning the gesture with vigor.

"She just drifted off to sleep after she fed Matthew," Rhonda said. "He sucks the energy right out her boobs. She always naps after he eats."

"And the baby doesn't sleep?"

"Sometimes. He was just too excited to see his grandmas."

A very nervous Dani slipped her hand in mine. I turned and kissed her chin. It was easier to reach than her nose.

"I think they're here," she whispered. It must have been twin sense, or triplet sense. About five seconds later we heard voices on the deck and the door opened.

"We can't just barge in the back door," a woman said. "What will they think of us?"

"If you went to the front door you'd have to stand there for an hour while they try to find the key to open it. Everyone uses this door, Mam," Debbie said.

"Where's my baby girl?" a big voice said as they came through the door.

"Pap!" Dani yelled as she rushed to him and hugged him. Wow! He was a mountain. He even dwarfed the triplets. But his wife! She was no taller than Rose. You could sure see where the girls got their good looks. "Come with us. We'll meet everyone in the family room."

"None of the family greets us at the door?" he boomed.

"I greeted you at the door!" Dani protested. "I'm family. And besides, what do you think this is behind me?" In fact, Rose and I were right behind Danielle since she'd dragged me halfway to the door when she ran to her father. Rhonda, Samantha, Whitney, Jennifer, and Courtney were right behind us. Then there was Nicki, Liz, Elaine, Donna, Sora, Cassie, Mary, and Angela. Of course, my parents, Josh, Tim, and the Clintons were standing right behind them. Doreen came downstairs and took Matthew from Mom.

"Lordy! They've got a big clan!" Mr. Wood said. "Now who is the boy who wants to marry my daughters?" What?

"Ida swan!" Mrs. Wood said. "I can't take you anywhere, Bart. Now hush and let the girls introduce us. They'll think we were raised hillbillies."

"I was," he answered.

"Mother! Father! Be quiet and let Danielle introduce you to her family," Dolly commanded.

"Brian and Rose," Dani squeaked. "If you haven't figured it out yet, these are my father and mother, Bart and Sylvia Wood. Mother and Father," she said speaking a little more distinctly—perhaps to emphasize that she was not as backwoodsy as her parents. "Please let me introduce you to my Patrón and love of my life, Brian Frost, and to my Matrón, Rose Davis. If you can be civil to them, I'll introduce you to the rest of my casa." Dani stepped to my side and put her arm protectively around my waist.

"I'm so pleased to meet you, Patrón. Matrón," Mrs. Woods said. She suddenly had very little accent. "Please forgive the lumbering oaf behind me. If his family hadn't raised chickens, I'm sure he'd never have learned to walk." She could barely contain her smile as she reached for Rose's and my hands. The rest of the casa held it together for almost five seconds before they all burst out laughing.

"Please, Mrs. Wood, it's Brian and Rose. Welcome to our home," I said.

"It will be much easier to introduce you all if we actually do retreat to the family room," Rose added.

"I never did get used to being Mrs. Wood," she said. "Please call me Sylvia, or join the family and call us Mam and Pap."

"I'm the Pap part of that," the big man said. "I've heard nothing from my daughters for nine months now that didn't sing the praises of Brian Frost. I somehow expected you to be bigger than me," he said, holding out his meaty paw for me to shake. If he wanted to crush me, it would have been easy, but it was just a good firm handshake.

"Welcome to Casa del Fuego," I said. "Please come in and let us introduce the rest of the family." I didn't distinguish people by saying cónyuge or compañera. We were all wearing our house gis. Mom, Dad, Anna, John, and Bea, even had white gis with gray belts. Doreen edged up to me and handed me my son. I about choked when I saw that he was wearing a little white gi with a blue belt. So cute!

It took a while to get everyone introduced and Elaine had once again organized afternoon snacks, iced tea, and lemonade. I relinquished the big chair to Bart.

"Did they tell you I was coming?" he said. "This is the first time I've ever been invited into a home that actually had a chair big enough for me."

"That's Brian's chair," Dani said. "But there are usually one or two other of us in it with him."

"Now about your intentions, young man," Bart said. Dani gasped and buried her face against my shoulder. "I understand you and Danielle have something special going on, but I have a fine still that I'll give you..."

"Pappy! Not the still!" Dolly and Debbie both said at once.

"You do love me!" Dani said, straightening up. "You'd give Brian your still instead of letting him have me?"

"Um ... Well ... Uh ... I was actually going to offer him the still if he'd take all three of you."

It was a good thing we'd tested that chair out with a lot of people. All three girls attacked their father and wrestled with him in the chair. I was laughing when Sylvia came and planted herself in my lap.

"I know a good thing when I see it," she said loudly. The four wrestlers looked over at us and saw Sylvia on me. The girls jumped up immediately and Bart started to struggle forward. I stood, carrying Sylvia with me and went to Bart before he could get out of the chair.

"Excuse me, sir," I said. "I think you dropped this." I set Sylvia in his lap and the two started laughing. These folks did like to have a good time. I turned and scooped Dani up in my arms and returned to my seat with her on my lap. I planted a kiss on her with considerably more intensity than I planned. Her arms wrapped around my neck and she returned the kiss with enthusiasm.

"Oh, my god!" Debbie yelled. "They never do that!" I pulled away from Dani and looked into her eyes. That girl can smile with her whole body. We both blushed.

"So you have a still," I said conversationally as I caught my breath. "Is it back in the hills? Louisville seems a little crowded to be safe from the revenuers." Bart laughed.

"Well, you are right about that. It's down in Bardstown. In fact, I brought a bottle with me and thought we could all share a snort if you'd like." He reached down beside him and brought out a paper bag. He pulled out a very professionally labeled bottle. Dolly brought me the bottle. I looked at it.

"This doesn't really look like moonshine," I said. Not that I'd know moonshine, but I'd heard it usually came in a Mason jar.

"Who said anything about moonshine?" Bart asked, surprised. "That is the finest, smoothest, 21-year-old Kentucky bourbon that's ever been distilled."

"But that's not a still. That's a distillery," I said. I was passing the bottle around. Dad whistled.

"Indeed. One of the best of Bardstown. I put one barrel aside when these three were born. Warned everyone that they were not to touch it. Sealed it with red wax. A month ago, I cracked that old oak barrel and siphoned off 201 bottles of 'Triple Crown Aged Kentucky Bourbon' in honor of the twenty-first birthday of my daughters."