Chapter 21: Vitamin T

Tuesday October 25
I’d been afraid I would wake up and hurt from yesterday’s activity. While I could tell I’d pushed my limits some, it was more a good hurt, the kind you get from working out and not the sort from being injured. Today, for the first time, I felt like I would eventually be okay.

Duke heard me awaken and jumped on my bed for me to love him up. I must have found the right spot because he stretched out his neck and his back leg began to jerk back and forth like he was scratching himself. I’d wanted a similar experience with Brook last night, but her dad made her go home. He just didn’t understand young love. Or maybe he understood too well...

It’s incredible the difference a day made. Now all that was left to deal with was Babygate, as Tami called it. The big difference between Ashley and Scarlet versus Pam was that they were older and able to stand on their own, or so I hoped. I made a mental note to carve out some time for Pam. I didn’t want her to think I’d forgotten about her.

Duke and I got ready for our walk, and when we arrived downstairs, Brit and Precious met us by the door. Precious pushed by us and ran up the stairs.

“Good morning,” I said.

“I need your help. I think Precious wants to have her kittens here.”

I started to shake my head, but Brit stopped me.

“Just listen to me. My idiot brothers tormented Precious when she was a kitten, and consequently, I don’t believe she feels safe having hers around them. I found her in Duke’s crate, rearranging it. I suspect she’s starting to nest to get ready for having kittens.”

Duke wouldn’t be happy about that. I’d gotten him a dog bed and blanket that he’d worked to get exactly right for him to sleep. Little David had made the mistake of crawling into the crate once. Duke had come and tattled on him. It was almost as bad as when the boys would get into his toys. Duke had a big heart, but he had issues with sharing.

“I’m not sure I want Precious taking over my apartment.”

“If it weren’t for you, she wouldn’t be pregnant,” Brit accused.

“How is it my fault?” I asked.

“You let Halle’s cat get at her. You could have stopped this.”

Welp, the cat was out of the bag, so to speak. I’d not shared the fact that Bandit was the father. I guess it wasn’t that hard to figure out.

“Hang on. You seriously expected me to reach down and break that up? The best-case scenario would have been me losing a couple of fingers, if not my hand.”

Sometimes I earn my moniker. Brit had been fishing to see if I would fess up. Now she had me and knew it.

“Just consider her another mother who needs your help with her babies.”

“That was low,” I said, shaking my head. “If she has her kittens in my apartment, you have to take care of them.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’ll bring over everything she’ll need.”

I gathered my hound, and we went for our walk.

Mom informed me that I would not skip breakfast and make Brook’s mom feed me. Chuck drove today, so I had to explain what he missed yesterday. There weren’t any croissants at the Dawson household, but we did have a breakfast casserole that everyone liked. I’d survived this long without fancy breakfast sandwiches, and so was content with eating at home.

Brook had waited for us. I don’t think she thought her mom was ready to face me yet, now that we were back together. I suspected her mom secretly had the hots for me, but I’ve been wrong about that sort of thing in the past.

“You were too busy to even call me last night?” Brook teased when she got into the car.

Maybe I should check out her mom. I didn’t need this to start my day.

“Silly girl,” I said, then moved into her personal space.

“Just kiss me and make it all better,” she whispered.

I’m sure we each wanted to remind the other what we had together. It seemed like only a moment later when Chuck pulled to a stop in front of the school. I wanted to have him drive around the block a few times, but Brook found the door handle and about fell out of the car.

“Dork,” I observed as she clutched me to keep from sprawling on the pavement.

“Come on. I need to parade you past a few people so they understand who you belong to.”

“You need to tell Halle. I think she plans to fly in today.”

“Taken care of,” Brook said.

She pulled me out of the car and latched onto my arm. Then Dare ruined her plans as he bounded up.

“David took me to the airport and let me fly drones yesterday.”

Brook didn’t have the heart to tell him to get lost so she could re-stake her claim. We’d both tried to bring Dare out of his shell; she wasn’t about to shut him down. The two of them walked in front of me as he talked on and on about how I should buy one for him to thoroughly test out its capabilities.

Dare had done his homework and said that it had a lot of different applications. He explained how my mom’s real estate business might do videos of properties and suggested that it would be useful for my security. Truthfully, it impressed me the way he was building his arguments. He unknowingly constructed a case I could present to Caryn so she wouldn’t take my head off if I bought one. Dare said he would volunteer to take the class and then would fly it for me.

I guess Dare assumed Brook was in charge in our relationship and that if he convinced her, I would fall into line. I hated to tell him that only worked for married couples. Most single guys hadn’t been fully trained yet.

Dare and I arrived late for Chemistry because Zoe stopped me in the hall between classes and seemed upset.

“I’m afraid I might have to go back to being homeschooled. Mr. Dutton embarrassed me when he handed back our pop quizzes from yesterday.”

I gave her a curious look, and she handed me the quiz. The test had twenty multiple-choice questions with A/B/C/D options. After that, it had five slots where you wrote in your answer. At the top, I saw that she’d only scored ten out of twenty-five.

“He embarrassed you because you hadn’t studied?” I asked.

She blushed and pointed at the bottom.

“I didn’t know the answers,” she explained.

In slots twenty-one through twenty-five, she’d written ‘Jesus,’ and to the side, it said, ‘Jesus is always the answer.’ That made me smirk. Underneath it, Mr. Dutton wrote, ‘Jesus didn’t save you this time... ‘ Zoe did not find my reaction to his response amusing.

“It’s not funny. What am I going to do?”

It took me a few minutes to talk her down, but once she realized he hadn’t singled her out, she relaxed a bit. I told her what he’d done when Alan skipped his class. It even shocked me when Alan hadn’t been there. Alan had forgotten to tell us that he had a doctor’s appointment. The next day we walked in, and on the whiteboard was a missing person poster with Alan’s picture on it. I reassured her that he just had a warped sense of humor.

“Darius; David,” Mr. Dutton intoned as we made our way to our desks.

“We had to deal with a crisis. Everything is okay now,” I assured him.

“Do you have any cash on you?” he asked me.

I pulled out my money clip and showed him. I kept my larger bills on the outside and the smaller ones in the middle. Mr. Dutton took my cash, extracted a hundred-dollar bill, and handed the rest back.

“Thanks, I need this for demonstration purposes,” he explained and then turned to the class as he held up the bill. “Today we are going to be doing an experiment. When enough heat is applied, this will burn. Who can tell me what happens, chemically?”

I had an uneasy suspicion that Mr. Dutton might actually set my money on fire. The rest of the class seemed to suspect that as well but didn’t appear as concerned as I was. He pointed at me to answer.

“Burning is a chemical process by which two atoms or molecules combine with each other, releasing energy in the form of heat. Usually one of the two molecules is oxygen or something else chemically similar called an oxidizer,” I answered, using our textbook’s definition.

Learning my lines for movies had taught me that I could also memorize textbook sections if I applied myself.

“Very good. Money is composed of 25 percent linen and 75 percent cotton. If I put a flame to it, we would expect that it would catch fire. What if I got it wet? Do you think it would burn, then?” Mr. Dutton asked.

The class seemed divided. We watched as he dunked my hundred-dollar bill into a bowl of liquid and then pulled it out wet. I rose halfway out of my chair when Mr. Dutton pulled a lighter out of his pocket and put the flame under my money. When the bill literally burst into flames, the class erupted. I couldn’t believe that he’d torched a hundred dollars. Had I known what he would do, I would have given him a one.

Then, as if by magic, the flames vanished, and my money appeared unscathed. We all looked on in stunned silence.

“I want you all to take the next fifteen minutes to try to figure out what just happened. Write it down, and we will count this as a quiz.”

We all sat there in shock, and slowly our brains tried to wrap themselves around what we’d witnessed. I glanced over at Dare, and he’d already written his answer down. The little shit covered it up as if I would steal it from him.

When Mr. Dutton had collected the papers, he read a few aloud. Half the class claimed to be convinced he was some kind of magician or warlock and just outed himself. The other half guessed he’d used some type of accelerant that didn’t burn hot enough to catch the money on fire. Mr. Dutton clued us in that he’d soaked the bill in ethanol. I loved it when teachers got creative. It made learning fun.

At football practice, I split time with Trent at quarterback. Coach Mason was happy with how I threw the ball, so he sent me in early. He planned to start Trent and only use me as an emergency backup. His goal today was simply to confirm that yesterday wasn’t a fluke and I could still make the plays.

The plan for after-school fun was to go to the airport again. Tomorrow I had my Japanese tutoring. Brook came along because she needed more flight time. I wasn’t at all shocked when Dare met us in the parking lot.

“I called my mom, and she said I could go with you tonight.”

“I bet she did,” I said under my breath so that only Brook heard as we walked up to the SUV.

Cassidy came out of the Lincoln Field House freshly showered. She’d run the football team through an abbreviated version of sixty minutes of hell.

“Where were you?” she asked.

“The training staff wanted to check me over.”

She mumbled something about me being a wimp and then smiled at Brook.

“Glad to see you two back together.”

“He couldn’t live without me,” Brook shared.

I got into the back row of the SUV and frowned when Dare joined me. Brook and Cassidy found that amusing. I instructed Chuck to swing by my restaurant. Mary Dole had made a to-go food order for us to take to class. It took both Chuck and Cassidy to haul it all out. As soon as they put it in the back, my mouth watered from the smell of the fried chicken.

Mary had made enough for a small army, so I had Roy invite his whole staff to eat. I figured it was a partial payment for him allowing Dare to fly his drones. They’d invited some people out who were interested in the drone class so they could get an opportunity to fly a drone before they signed up. More than anything, I expect it was a marketing strategy to sell them a drone. I imagined Roy expected I would end up buying one, so I didn’t feel too bad about letting Dare loose on his staff.

Today in flight school, we learned about planning and navigation. The flight planning process was detailed and required plotting our expected course on a chart. Roy then had us calculate airspeed and magnetic heading for each leg of the trip. This led to computing estimated fuel usage and flight time. We had to learn to do it by hand so that we understood the math behind it all. Once we had the concepts down, he directed us to download an app to both our phones and tablets. I expected that today, and maybe on the test, would be the last time I planned a flight by hand.

After class, Cassidy ran off to find Brook. Brook had sent us a text saying that she had just landed and was helping to tie down the plane they’d used today. Roy and I grabbed some leftover chicken and then walked over to one of the hangars where Roy’s staff demonstrated the drones. We found Dare in an animated conversation with an older gentleman who looked like he might be a model. He appeared to be in his fifties and my height, with blond hair and blue eyes.

“As I said, there are technologies currently available that can easily be used to improve on this model. For example, cars have collision-avoidance sensors and software. If you took that a step further, you might program a drone to either make a stable platform for video or detect sniper fire and avoid it.”

“Why are the propellers in a fixed position?” Dare asked. “Wouldn’t it make more sense to allow them to tilt and work independently?”

The man saw me come up, and he smiled.

“I know who you are. I’m a big fan,” he said, shaking my hand. “I’m Hunter.”

“Do you plan to take the class?” I asked.

“I’m not sure. I happened to be in the area and stopped by to check it out and met Darius. I think he has a real future in this. You should encourage him and buy him a drone.”

I looked over at Dare who was busy landing the drone to put it up for the night.

“It has gotten him out of his shell. Usually, he’s shy.”

“Well, I did what I wanted tonight. I’m sure we’ll meet again,” Hunter told me, shook my hand and then turned to say goodbye to Dare.

Roy edged up.

“You ready to buy one?”

“Yeah. I’m sure Dare knows which one I need.”

Brook and Cassidy found us. I told Brook I’d agreed to buy a drone and let her break it to Dare. I now knew how the Grinch felt at the end of How the Grinch Stole Christmas when his heart grew three sizes. Making someone that happy makes you feel good about life. I even let him take it home so he could show it to his mom. I would bet that he wouldn’t sleep tonight.

Wednesday October 26
Tonight, I had my Japanese language class with Hana Yamamura. She’d helped me learn my lines and acted as our interpreter when we traveled to Japan over the summer. Last spring she’d made us traditional Japanese dishes before our sessions to prepare us for the cuisine. I’d made her a deal that I would cook this time so we could do the training at my place.

Both Cassidy and Brook joined me most times. Last spring it was because they’d both planned to travel with me to Japan. For Cassidy, it was more of a refresher course because she’d lived there while her dad was stationed at Okinawa, Japan. Cassidy had asked that we visit the Marine air base while we were there. It turned out to be one of the highlights of our trip.

While we were on set, Hana had fallen for one of the other actors, Jiro Yamashita. She’d decided to stay in Japan over the summer to get to know him better, then come back to finish her college education. Hana had agreed to fill the same role for me this time, in part because Jiro had a role in the J-drama I was shooting over Christmas.

I was busy making dinner—spaghetti and meatballs, salad, and garlic bread—when the back door opened and Mac and Kyle tried to come in, pushing a stroller. I hurried over to help them get it through the door.

“Mama Peggy said to help,” Mac said seriously.

I saw she had Angie’s van and it was packed with car seats. The poor girl had picked up ours and Greg’s horde. What would she do if Ashley moved here with Dawson and Allen? We might have to get a school bus.

I scooped Coby out of his stroller and told him hello. I found a high chair, strapped him in, and then trotted out to help Peggy. Kyle and Mac had released Duke, and they were all romping in the backyard. Nate was throwing a fit because he remained imprisoned in his car seat while Peggy was tied up tending to Little David and Carol.

“Can you get him?”

“Hello, Big Boy. How’s my favorite nephew?” I asked Nate.

He held up his arms, and I began to free him. Someone needed a nap. Peggy handed me Little David, and I took the two of them into the house. Coby, the little monkey, had started to climb out of his high chair.

“Hang on!” I yelled before he flipped over the top and landed on his head.

I blocked Coby from crawling out and was glad Peggy had a free hand when she came in.

“That’s his new trick. He can also climb out of his bed and playpen. I dread to see what trouble he gets into when he can walk.”

Visions of him scaling the baby gate at the top of my stairs raced through my brain.

“How did you get stuck picking them all up?” I asked.

“Angie and Greg have tests this week, so I said I’d watch them,” she explained.

Then Peggy told me about Lucas, the guy who tried to break into our home-office computer.

“Fritz called me and told me they’ve identified Lucas. He’s a Ukrainian citizen whose real name is Mark Lukashenko. He’s here illegally, and Interpol has an active warrant out for him. Lukashenko is a suspect in several cases of confidence schemes and identity theft. Fritz said that they plan to deport him.”

I hadn’t expected that. My dad and uncle sometimes debated the issue of illegals, and at times their discussion got heated. I didn’t have a dog in the fight, so I left them to it. If pushed, it’s my opinion that if Mark was a criminal with warrants out in other countries, we should cooperate and send him to face justice. Other than that, no way would I touch the issue.

Brook and Cassidy came in the back door to the chaos of all the little ones gone wild. I didn’t blame Brook when she stiffened at the sight. Mac and Kyle were chasing Duke, while Nate had a handful of Duke’s dog food (which I suspected would be in his mouth next). Little David was testing out his walking abilities, and Coby was in the process of climbing out of his high chair again. Meanwhile, Carol had decided she wasn’t happy and wanted to test out her lung capacity. Dear God! What had I gotten myself into?

“I totally understand if you want out of all this. Right this minute, I want out, too,” I said to Brook to address her concerns.

She took a deep breath, then walked over to Nate and fought him to have him give up his dog food. Cassidy bent down, and Little David came to her. His last few steps suddenly sped up, and he stumbled. Thankfully, she caught him. Peggy put Cheerios on Coby’s tray to distract him, and I picked up Carol. Tonight, my superhero ability didn’t seem to be working.

I was never so happy to see my mom walk through the back door. She had Scarlet with her, and I handed Carol off to her mom. Dad and Uncle John came in next, followed shortly after by Hana. Now that we had the little monsters outnumbered, we were at last able to get them settled down.

Dad motioned for me to follow him to the office. I knew something was up when he closed the door.

“The test results are back,” he said as he handed me an envelope.

The DNA test results had finally arrived. I didn’t stop to consider what it meant, I simply opened it. The letter said that, in fact, I was the father of all three of Ashley and Scarlet’s munchkins.

“Ms. Dixon talked to her family law specialist,” Dad continued. “He said that you should voluntarily set up an informal monthly payment system to support your children. In the future, it can be used as a pattern and sign of good faith if either girl decides to take you to court for child support.”

“How much should I pay them?” I asked.

“Ms. Dixon told me that the national average, according to the Census Bureau as of 2010, was $430 per month.”

“That doesn’t sound like it’s nearly enough,” I pondered.

“I agree. Ms. Dixon’s firm has a calculator, and based on your monthly income...”

“Hang on. I have a monthly income?” I asked.

“What do you think Caryn has been depositing into your bank account each month?” Dad asked.

“My allowance?”

“For tax purposes, it’s your income,” Dad explained.

“So she can’t complain about how I spend it?” I asked for clarification.

“Would you rather I have your mom monitor your spending?”

“I guess we got off track,” I said and quickly diverted the conversation back to how much child support I should be paying.

“Ms. Dixon said that for an individual child you would be expected to pay $884 per month. The calculation is less per child if you do it based on three, but she said that we should start here. Ms. Dixon said that in your case, she would recommend you give them each a lump sum payment equal to eight and nine months of missed support payments to date. Then pay $1,000 per month to Scarlet and $1,500 to Ashley,” Dad explained.

The twins had been born early, in February. Carol was a March baby.

“What do you recommend I should do?” I asked.

“I would give them a larger upfront payment, then pay them what Ms. Dixon suggested monthly, and hope for the best.”

“Sounds good. I bet Mom will stop nagging me about providing her with grandkids now.”

Dad got serious.

“I wouldn’t bring that up if I were you.”

Sometimes it was better to listen to your elders.

I came out, found Scarlet and Carol, and brought them into the office.

“Hang on while I get Ashley on the phone. I got back the DNA results,” I said.

I handed her the envelope because she clearly didn’t want to wait to know.

“I thought you’d forgotten about me,” Ashley complained by way of answering the phone.

“I have you on speaker phone with Scarlet,” I warned her.

“Yes!” Scarlet exclaimed when she read the letter. “David just got the DNA results back, and he is the father of all our children.”

“Was there ever any doubt?” Ashley asked.

“I was pretty sure,” Scarlet answered.

“Slut,” Ashley called her friend.

“Okay, before this gets interesting, let’s talk about it. Now that we know for sure the kids are mine, we can move forward with confidence,” I said.

I told them what I planned to do as far as child support.

“I wish I’d told you sooner. I could have moved out,” Ashley shared.

“I hope you know this is only temporary. Once I get my trust, I won’t need this,” Scarlet told me.

“For now, I can afford it. Once I’m a poor college kid, we can renegotiate the payments,” I said half-seriously.

“All I know is, I appreciate the help. I’m tired of going hat in hand to beg money from my dad just so I can buy diapers,” Ashley said.

“Do you need me to wire you funds?” I asked, worried her parents weren’t supporting her.

“No. My dad just likes lording it over me. If it weren’t for the boys, I would have moved out long ago.”

“You need to get your butt up here. I miss you,” Scarlet said.

“I’ll be up in a month.”

“Do you want to be roommates? There’s a four-bedroom unit in the building I’m in. David’s mom said that she can get my lease switched to that unit since I haven’t moved in yet.”

“It would be like old times in the sorority,” Ashley said.

“Should I switch units?”

“Yeah, let’s do it. I’d be more at ease, knowing you were there for me.”

I told them both I looked forward to them being near so I could get to know them and the kids. I left them to plan how they wanted to decorate the condo, now that they had money.

“We need to make this short,” I told Hana. “I recorded the Cubs game. They moved it up because of weather concerns, and I want to watch it before someone tells me who won.”

Last night they’d lost to the Cleveland Indians 6–0, so they wanted to win tonight. That way when they came back to Chicago for the next three games, the Cubs would have a chance to win the series at home if they swept.

Hana had broken my script down into sections and had written my lines phonetically to help me learn them. I surprised her when I recited them almost correctly on the first try. The lure of watching the Beloved Cubs play ball provided ample motivation for me.

“I think I’ll give you a pass and let you watch the game,” Hana suggested, becoming my best tutor ever.

I didn’t wait to hear the final verdict as I grabbed the remote and turned the game on. It seemed I had some issue recording because the Cubs already had a 1–0 lead with their ace, Jake Arrieta, on the mound. We settled in and enjoyed the game. I was happy when the Cubbies won 5–1 and tied the series.

I’d approached both the governor and Bill Carl about getting a block of tickets for Sunday’s game at Wrigley Field in Chicago. Mr. Carl was one of the owners of the Cubs whom I had previously met at a political fundraiser. Both Tami and Greg had been harassing me about a status update. Even Uncle John had caught wind of a possible guys’ outing.

Friday October 28
I’d recorded the latest episode of the documentary and gotten a chance to watch it before going to bed last night. This one focused on how we handled academics. Ms. Jaroslav talked about how the school made tutors available for football players and how we’d organized study groups for classes that both athletes and ordinary students alike participated in. I’d heard that last semester it had been reported the athletes’ grades had improved on average. What I didn’t know was that all the participants’ grades were better.

She’d also disclosed that the standardized test scores had improved as well. Most people considered that an important indicator, one that reflected well on the school as a whole, not solely on athletes. My mom had mentioned that she used stats like that to help people decide to move here.

The documentary also showed that Ms. Jaroslav checked each athlete’s progress to make sure that if they wanted to, they would qualify for college. With the new NCAA rules, it was harder to get in than it had been in the past. My friend Damion had needed something like this earlier in his high school career. If a student began to fall behind, their parents were brought in, and a plan was worked out. Involving the parents was usually sufficient to get most of the faltering students straightened out.

Another segment highlighted the work that went into finding scholarships and grants to help pay for college or trade schools. There was a lot of money available that went unused each year. I can only imagine Ms. Jaroslav thought she would receive a commission, given how hard she worked to identify and then match up the funds with worthy students.

I was waiting in the car to pick up Brook for school when my phone rang. It was Caryn.

“Bill Carl’s people just called. They have a suite available for Sunday’s game if we want it.”

“We want it,” I blurted.

“Don’t you want the details?” she asked.

I might have to fire her.

“Sure, but call them back first and take it.”

“I already paid for it.”

I let out a long sigh. Then I did a fist pump. We were going to a Cubs’ World Series game!

“So, do you want to know the details now?” Caryn asked.

“Yes, please,” I said in my best little boy voice.

“The suite holds fifteen people. I’m sure you’ll want Megan and me to go since we arrange awesome things like this for you,” Caryn said, making her pitch for two seats.

“Fine.”

“Do you know who you want to add to the list?”

“My parents, Greg and I guess Angie, my uncle...” I said and paused as I thought.

“What about Brook?”

“Yep. I should also invite her parents since they took me to a Cardinals game.”

“What about Phil?”

“Yeah, and I better invite Peggy, and I almost forgot about Tami.”

“That’s thirteen. Who are the last two?”

“Did you forget me? I count fourteen,” I said.

“You won’t be in the suite because Mr. Carl has arranged for you to be a batboy for the game.”

This is how Dare felt when he was told I would buy a drone. I’m sure I made Caryn’s day with my antics.

“I would suggest you take your grandma,” Caryn suggested, and I agreed. “That leaves one slot.”

I thought about Tim and Wolf, but if I took one, I would have to take the other, and I only had one slot. Then I ran through all my friends and stopped at Pam.

“Let’s ask Pam.”

“You got it, Boss. I’ll make all the arrangements.”

When we pulled up to Brook’s, Chuck was already on his phone to Fritz, volunteering to work security for Sunday. I sent Caryn a text to tell her that we needed two more tickets for drivers/security.

Our last conference game was against St. Joe. They were the largest school in our conference, and they’d been both good and bad this year. I surmised they might be a major challenge for us if they decided to have one of their better games. It was Senior Night for them, so I expected a good game.

On the bus ride to St. Joe, Tim and Wolf cornered me.

“What are you doing Sunday? Want to come over and watch the game?” Tim asked.