Chapter 6

It was late when he bundled Nathan and Aaron into the car. Thank goodness their curiosity regarding his new friend had been easily fended off. After being answered with 'hmmms' and 'huhs' a few times, the brothers talked quietly in the back seat. David paid them no mind; he was in his own world.

His talk with the friendly barkeep had taken quite some time. No matter what the outcome, he owed Mack Sullivan a life-debt for helping him work through his dilemma. 'Mack was correct, ' David thought as he drove, 'when he said that some things just can't be seen from the inside.'

As he pulled out of the park, his mind was churning with all the possibilities. He began to think of himself as a latter-day Poirot or Colombo. The potential paths of Abby's and his lives wove and crossed like rabbit spoor in the snow.

As he turned onto Abby's street he was struck by another important insight. 'I could easily spend so much time and effort trying to understand Abby, to stay one step ahead of her, that it could affect my own actions. That would poison the interactions and this whole exercise would be useless.

'No, better to act and react as honestly and naturally as possible, and stay one step behind. I'll gather evidence and make my judgment after the fact when I can consider what I've seen and heard.'

David brought his sons home about 4:30. Youthful exuberance preceded his entrance. Abby was again in her kitchen, pots and pans on the stove and a smile on her lips. She was finishing the obligatory kisses and hugs when he came in. She lifted her gaze and fixed her eyes on his. The smile she'd given her sons grew even larger.

"Hello, David. How was your day with the boys?"

Her voice was friendly, her demeanor open. This was a good sign. Another descent to tears would be difficult to bear.

Having an eight year old means, it would seem, never having to talk.

"We had a great time. I was fielding grounders and after dinner we played Frisbee. Dad made a really cool catch behind his back. Then Nathan and I played, and Dad was talking to this old guy."

David grabbed Aaron by the belt and collar while he was talking and lifted him. "How did you like my ventriloquism act?"

Abby addressed her younger son as he regained his feet, "It's disrespectful to speak instead of your father. That's what Laban did, and you know what kind of person he was.

"And don't say 'old guy'. You don't like 'little kid', do you? You can say 'older man'. Create good habits when you can and you won't embarrass yourself later."

"Sorry, Dad. Sorry, Mom."

"Go wash up, you two. Supper is in a half hour."

When the boys were out of earshot, David said, "I threw grounders to Aaron and after dinner we played Frisbee and I made the coooolest catch behind my back. Then I talked to this really, really, really ooooooold guy."

Abby giggled and threw her oven mitt at David. "You should wash up, too. Who's your new friend?"

He turned on the tap of the kitchen sink and began to wash. "His name is Mack Sullivan. He's lived over on the east side for over fifty years. He's a fount of information. We traded stories while the boys burned up dinner."

"I didn't get a chance to ask you about your breakfast meeting Friday. Do you want to talk about it in front of the kids or not?"

"Hmm. I think it's too tentative to discuss in front of them. I'll fill you in later."

Supper was a lively affair. Everyone was talking; sometimes at the same time. When serving, Abby made sure to start passing around the food with David. She also, he noted, often put her free hand on his shoulder, but nothing more intimate than that. He found he was enjoying the incidental contact, sometimes a little too much.

After supper David and Nathan cleaned up while Abby and Aaron played a game on the computer. Afterward, David and Abby looked over their shoulders while the boys played. Several times the adults bumped into each other. David was desperately trying to disguise his erection from his ex's sight and keep her hip from finding it.

"Stop kibitzing, Dad."

"I'm not kibitzing, Nathan. I'm tsitsing."

"What's tsitsing?"

Abby interrupted her elder son. "Please, please, don't ask."

David began to answer as Abby made as if she were pushing David out the door. "There are three types of people at a game, card games, board games, computer games, whatever: the players, the kibitzers, and the tsitsers."

Abby grabbed her ex's shoulders and looked him squarely in the eye. "Don't!"

David decided that cowardice was the better part of valor. "I'd tell you, Nathan, but then I'd have to kill you."

"You can't kill me, Dad."

"OK. I'd tell you, but then I'd have to kick you."

"Child Services would take you away." Nathan was laughing, enjoying the wordplay.

"I'd tell you, but then I'd have to kid you."

"You'll kid me anyway."

"Slow down. I'm having trouble remembering the alphabet. I'd tell you, but then I'd have to tickle you, " and tickled his son anyhow.

Nathan squirmed and squealed and tried to get away from his father's fingers. Aaron grabbed David's arms which allowed Nathan to briefly escape, only to find himself in his brother's place instead.

Abby wisely stepped back as her men roughhoused. After a few minutes she looked down at the scrum on the floor and loudly cleared her throat.

"I hate to interrupt Ticklemania 37, but some young men have school in the morning. Settle down and go get cleaned up."

At 8:00 David helped settle Aaron into bed, and a half-hour later Nathan gave goodnight hugs and went to his room to read until his bedtime.

"I was going to boil water for myself. Would you like some coffee?"

"That would be nice. Thanks. Let's sit in the kitchen."

As they spoke, Abby spooned instant coffee into two mugs and placed some tea biscuits on a plate.

She spoke first in a soft voice. "I want to apologize for getting hysterical on you last week. I'd rather not talk about it, but I will if you want to. You don't deserve to be treated like that. I don't think it'll happen again and I'm going to work very hard to make sure it doesn't."

"I won't push if you don't want to talk about it. Consider it in the past."

"Thank you, David."

She immediately brightened. "Now, tell me about your breakfast."

"I had two English muffins..."

"Did I tell you I found a wonderful new detergent for getting coffee stains out of pants?"

" ... and then I told Bob about why I was ... fired. You know, I accept it happened and that it wasn't a normal thing and all that, but I have trouble even saying the word. A shrink would love to get his couch under me."

Abby brought over the biscuits and laid a reassuring hand on David's for a few seconds before returning to the stove.

"Anyway, I'm surprised I have to tell you about this. I'd have thought you'd heard Bob over here. He exploded. That's the only word I can think of. Everybody was looking over at us. He couldn't believe that I was ... you know."

"I couldn't. Here, I put in one sugar for you."

His thank you was returned by warm smile.

"The upshot is that Bob thinks I should open my own studio."

"That's wonderful!"

"You think so?"

"Without question. Why should you work like a slave for somebody else? You deserve it. Who knows more than you about design and art around here? Are you going to do it?"

"I'm thinking very seriously about it, but I'm also going to put together a resume. I need to cover all my bases. I went to the library Friday to research the costs of what I'll need, a good workstation, what's current in software."

"Why did you go to the library? Use the computer here."

"I didn't think of it. You wouldn't mind?"

"Why would I mind, silly? I can give you a hand if you need it. What are you going to do about billing and that side of a business?"

"I guess I'll have to do it myself until I can afford help."

"What was my major in school, David?"

"You'd handle the business side?"

"Of course I would. You only have to ask. Whatever you want from me, it's yours."

Embarrassed by the double-entendre, both found their coffee the most interesting thing in the room. After several long moments, Abby asked, "How will you finance the studio?"

"Bob is going to front the money in return for five percent of the net."

"That's unbelievably generous. Two outstanding men are going into business together."

"Why do you say two?"

"Do you think he would risk tens of thousands of dollars on just anyone? No, David, you must have truly impressed him for him to make that offer. Congratulations. I hope this works out."

"Thanks again." He paused. "It's getting late and I still have cleaning up and laundry to do. Thanks again for supper, but I'd better get going."

He stood, and, as she moved her chair back from the table, he extended his hand to help her up. Together, they walked to the door.

"Will I see you tomorrow?"

"I'd be foolish to say no. While that hasn't stopped me in the past, yes, I'll be here."

Beside the door, she reached into the drawer of a small table.

"If you're going to be working here, you might as well take a copy of the key."

He hesitated for a moment before taking it and thanking her.

He stepped into the open doorway, turned around and took Abby's hands in his own.

"Thanks again for everything. I appreciate everything you're doing for me."

When he was halfway to the driveway, Abby called out to him, "You might as well save time and a few dollars and bring your dirty laundry with you tomorrow."

"Maybe just," he replied as he walked away

Deciding that cleaning would just have to wait for another time, David showered immediately upon arriving home. After brushing, flossing and all, he went straight to bed, but not to sleep. Lying still in the dark, he carefully reviewed the evening.

'What am I looking for? Mack and I agreed on four things. Honesty and openness, reliability and trustworthiness, interest, and fit.

'Was she honest tonight? Hard to judge that. I heard nothing I know was a lie. That's a tough one though. I'm looking for something that will rarely, if ever, happen. On the other hand, I don't think she's ever lied to me, before or after the divorce, and we've known each other for, wow, twenty-eight years. Love may be blind, but I have to give her the benefit of the doubt on honesty. I'm not going to obsess.

'Openness. I'll give her B+. She apologized for Thursday night, but wouldn't discuss it. Hmm, that was a good idea. Things are too touchy between us now. Soon enough, we'll be comfortable enough to discuss the divorce and then, perhaps, Thursday night will make sense. Or we won't, and it won't matter. Let that dog sleep for a while longer.

'Reliability and trust, too early to say. She promised a lot, so that sets the bar. If she meets it, she passes. If not, I'll have to decide then.

'Whoa. I could end up being a real schmuck here if I'm not careful. I can tell she's trying to make up to me. I could just pile things one atop the other until she got angry or just failed from having too much on her plate. That would be great if I was out for revenge, but a disaster otherwise. I have to be careful to be the real me.

'Interest. That's got to be an A+. She was broadcasting tonight. What a way to boost my ego. She's stated it clearly enough even for me to catch. Now let's see if she keeps it up. Of course, everyone has a bad day. Let's see what happens then, or the first time I screw up. That'll tell the story.

'Fit. No score for tonight. Honesty and reliability are long-term goals to check over time. Fit is shorter term, but I can't start to measure that until we stop being so touchy around each other. It's worse than a blind date. Of course, I never had one of those, but the stories I've heard. Yuck, enough to give me the willies.'

He smiled to himself as he rolled onto his side, pulling his blanket snugly about himself. As he drifted off to sleep he thought, 'All in all, a very successful start.'

David got up exceptionally early the next morning. He didn't want to skip his workout just to make the meeting with Paul and Jack. He enjoyed the burn and the extra energy it seemed to give him, but didn't enjoy some of the other patrons. That morning he had to tell two women bluntly that he was there to workout, not to look for dates.

He entered Paul's office backwards, pushing the door open with his butt, because he was holding his hands over his ears. Both Paul and his father were already waiting, and viewed David with open curiosity.

"What is that God-awful screeching?"

"What screeching?" asked Jack.

Paul walked over and threw a switch on the wall beside the door.

"You couldn't hear it? It's not so bad in here, but outside, my teeth were on edge."

"You could hear that? You're not supposed to able to," queried Paul.

"What do mean, I shouldn't have been able to?"

"I had a problem with some high school kids hanging around. It was upsetting my older patients, so I put in a system that plays a tone only younger people can hear. It's supposed to be turned on only during the afternoon when school is out. How come you can hear that?"

David exchanged a quick glance with Jack and changed the subject.

"I can't answer that. Let me bring you up to date on what's happened with me."

David had only given them a broad outline of his situation and Bob McCarthy's offer. Now that he needed their experience and advice, he filled in more details and sketched out the proposal before asking for their thoughts.

"He's putting up all the cash, he's giving you all his business and he's promoting you to others. For all that he's taking only five percent of the net? Dad, what do you think?"

"I would say that if you're sure you can trust him, take the deal."

"That's what I would say too. Are you prepared for all the other things you need to do to be in business for yourself?"

"That's the second part of my dilemma. I'm a good commercial artist, but I might stink as a businessman. I don't want to fail and take someone else's money down with me. Abby said she would take care of the office work, the billing and everything."

Paul and Jack exchanged a glance.

"Does she know what she's doing?"

"It's what she studied in college, even if she hasn't used it in quite a while. Plus I'm meeting with someone at the Small Business Administration tomorrow."

"You'll need a lawyer and an accountant, that's for sure. We'll give you some recommendations. Talk to the SBA guy. They're real pros. I'd say take the deal and get as much help as you can. Keep us up to date so we can see if you're heading for the rocks. Anything else, Paul?"

"Nothing I can think of, Dad. Congratulations, David. It sounds like you're on your way up."

"Thanks, guys."

On the way to Abby's house, David stopped at an art supply store. He chose the various pencils, charcoals, and paper that he'd loved as a boy and hadn't touched in years. He still had his easel and some other equipment, so the trip to the register wasn't too painful. Leaving the store, he stowed them on the floor of the back seat.

About 9:30 Abby answered David's knock her on door.

"Good morning. No key?"

"Good morning to you, too. I have the key, but I'm not comfortable using it yet when I know you're home. I looked for my red suit to go with the bag of goodies over my shoulder, but it went missing."

Eying the laundry bag he was carrying, Abby effected a truly wretched Chico imitation, "There ain't no sanity clause here."

"I'm beginning to think there ain't no sanity at all around here. I decided to take you up on your laundry offer."

Walking through the kitchen to the basement door, he spotted a laughing June and greeted her with a Roman salute.

"We who are about to bleach, salute you. I descend to the bowels of the earth to do battle with ring around the collar. Wish me luck."

As he walked away, he heard June tell Abby, "That is not the David I remember."

With the first load in the washer, David moved to the computer to start his resume.

As he passed back through the kitchen, Abby said, "Don't mind us. We'll just stay here and continue with our vicious gossip."

Without stopping either his feet or to think, David replied, "I think your gossip flows rather freely."

June looked stumped, but Abby answered, "I said vicious, not viscous."

"Oh, that would explain it."

Now that David was in the next room, the women pitched their voices lower.

"What was that all about?"

A huge smile was spread across Abby's face and she looked as though she needed ballast to stay on her chair.

"He's really back! I told you there wasn't a pun he didn't like. I feel ten years younger. He doesn't memorize puns; he mints them on the fly. It keeps me on my toes, trying to figure out what he means, and I love it. If you find you want to say, 'I don't understand' to David, realize that you may regret it. Some of his jokes are truly horrendous. And I wouldn't have it any other way."

David was having considerable problems working up his resume. For all intents and purposes, this was the first time he had ever written one. He checked several websites for advice and sample formats, and was struggling with his version. He tried to remember dates and responsibilities, tried to remember the best examples of his work. It was tough going.

'I have to be aggressive and sell myself, but it's just not natural for me. Once I get this set, I'm going to update it every month so I don't have to go through this agony again.'

Around 11:00 Abby brought him a cup of coffee.

"Thanks. I need this."

"Do sandwiches for dinner around 12:30 sound okay?"

"You don't have to do this."

"I know. I want to, so just suffer."