Chapter 7

It was the Friday before Thanksgiving and I was sitting in my studio photoshopping a couple of images for the catalog project when the doorbell rang. I opened the door and saw my brother and Gail standing there.

"Hi, guys! C'mon in."

As they walked past me I looked out to see who dropped them off, only to see a car I didn't recognize in the driveway.

"How'd you get over here?"

Kev lit up with a smile so bright I wished I'd had my shades with me. "I drove over in MY car!"

"Your car? How, I mean..." Then it hit me—my LITTLE brother turned sixteen just a week before and obviously wasted no time getting his license. I looked at the car in the driveway—a Honda hatchback that looked about fifteen years old. I thought back to my first beatermobile and had to say one thing for my parents—they were consistent.

Beth took Gail into the kitchen to "talk about fixing something to eat." Somehow I got the feeling the conversation would also include a few comments about Kev and me. Just so they didn't get on the subject of "fixing" us!

"You want to show me your ride?" I said, knowing that getting him to show off his new baby would be no problem.

"Tommy, I can't believe I've got my own car! I mean, I was so jealous of you when Mom and Dad bought you your car. It seemed like I'd never get my license and then to get the car, too!"

I was a little jealous myself. When I got my license it was almost six months before I got my own wheels. Maybe I'd bugged them so much before they finally broke down and bought my first beater that they decided to take the easy way out with Kev?

We walked out to the hatchback sitting in the driveway. Walking around it, I noticed it was in pretty good shape, without a lot of the rust most vehicles picked up from all the salt they put down on the roads every winter. The paint was in good shape and the tires looked brand new.

"So how does it run?"

"Just great!" he replied, getting in and starting it up—over-revving the engine the way some guys do.

"Kev, that's not a good idea. The engine will last a lot longer if you treat it right, and that means not punching the gas when you first start it. Give the oil a chance to start circulating first."

Looking like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, he shut it off, jumped out and popped the hood to distract me. The engine looked to be in good shape, no obvious oil leaks, and the battery seemed almost new. I pulled the dipstick and saw the oil was fresh. Looked like my brother had himself a set of wheels that would get him through the winter and probably through the rest of high school, at least. I slammed the hood and walked around to the driver's door to see what the upholstery was like. While I was there, I glanced at the odometer—89,000 miles? Must have belonged to that mythical little old lady who drove it only to church on Sundays. I also saw it was a stick, not an automatic.

"So how long did it take?" I asked.

"Take? Take what?"

"For Dad to show you how to drive a stick," I replied. I knew the high school's driver training course didn't cover manual transmissions anymore so it must have fallen to Dad to teach him the intricacies of synchronizing the clutch and stick.

"Oh, Jeez, Tommy. I thought I'd never get it figured out! Every time I'd try to shift there'd be this God-awful grinding! Finally, I got it, but I'll bet we were in that parking lot practicing for three hours!"

"Yeah, I remember that, too. Dad's a pretty good teacher, though, isn't he."

"Well, he's patient, anyway."

By that time I'd worked around to the back of the car. Opening the hatch, I saw a blanket and two sleeping bags.

"Not much of a survival kit, is it?" I asked Kev.

"Survival kit? Oh, you mean for winter? C'mon, Tommy, I'm not going to be driving in the country, just around town. What do I need a survival kit for?"

"Wise up, little brother. Having the right stuff with you can save your life, even in town. Remember when Beth's Jeep got forced off the road and she and Cindy were stuck? That was in town, but it still could have killed them. Can you guarantee that won't happen to you? Huh? Well?"

Kev looked embarrassed. "Um, well, okay, what should I have?"

"For starters, an ice scraper and snow brush, remember, it snows in town, too. Haven't you heard Dad grumble about the idiots driving with their windows covered in snow? Do you want to be one of them? Then grab an old backpack or gym bag and start filling it up—matches, a candle, some food packs, another blanket, gloves ... Oh, hell, just google 'winter survival kit' and you'll get all sorts of advice and ideas. Talk to Dad and see what he's got for their cars, just don't forget!"

I heard him mumble something under his breath.

"What was that?"

"Oh, I came over here thinking you'd be all excited that I had my own car and all you do is yell at me. You're not so smart you know. I know some things you don't!" he challenged.

Something he knows that I don't? I wondered what he was talking about.

"Kevin, I'm not yelling at you, just trying to make sure you can handle what's coming. Maybe I'm a little nuts on the subject after what happened to Beth, but some of this is just common sense, like making sure your phone is charged. Oh, and if you do end up off in a ditch somewhere, make sure you stay with the car! It's a hell of a lot easier to find a car than a person stumbling around in a blizzard."

"Listen to what he says, Kevin. I wish I had."

We both spun around. The girls had walked up, unnoticed. No doubt attracted by all my "yelling" as Kevin put it.

"Beth, did you really think you were going to die out there?" Gail asked.

"Yeah, I did, and let me tell you, there's not much worse than thinking you're going to buy it over a stupid stunt like I pulled. I was so glad I had that space blanket with me and I can't even tell you why I grabbed it."

Gail looked at my brother. I could only imagine the conversation they were going to have.

"Anyway," my lady said, "we've got lunch inside if the two of you wanna-be mechanics are done out here."

Who was I to argue with such a sensible idea? Kev closed the hatch and we adjourned to the kitchen and the food.

Sitting around the kitchen table the conversation eventually came around to Kev's car, and what they could do with it, and in it, and on it.

"So," my lady asked, "have you driven out to the farm yet?"

From their expressions, we saw the answer was obvious, even when they started tap-dancing around how they didn't want to trespass.

"Am I going to have to check that blanket in the back of your new ride for crusty spots?" Gail's face answered that question.

"Hey, guys, don't worry about it! It's there, might as well put it to good use," Beth said with an ear-to-ear grin. Strangely, that didn't seem to relieve them very much.

"By the way, I saw a couple of sleeping bags in the back of your car. You might want to just leave them there for the winter, or do you have more current plans for them?"

"Um," Kevin glanced between Beth and me. "Um, I-we were wondering if we could maybe stay over here tonight?"

"Sure," my lady replied. "Any special reason?"

"Well," Gail looked at us. "Kevin promised to take me to that bookstore where he got that copy of The Wizard of OZ he gave me, but he doesn't know where it is, and can't even remember the name." The look she gave him was entirely too familiar—a combination of frustration and affection.

"You mean the Uncles. Well if you're going to stay tonight, why don't we plan on going over there tomorrow?"

"Tommy, you don't have to do that!" my brother protested. "You can just show me where it is on a map. Um, do you have a city map?"

"Kev, don't you even have a map?" His expression was answer enough. "Then add a map to the list of stuff for your car. Unless you're planning on putting a GPS unit into it?"

"Um, maybe some day. Right now I'm just trying to keep the gas tank full."

"Pick up a map."

We decided to spend the afternoon giving Gail and my brother a quick tour of where we spent most of our days. Beth led the way as we walked around the University campus and I gave them a quick tour of the Art Institute. By the time we were done, all four of us were in the mood for food again.

"I've got just the place!" Beth exclaimed. "Do you like Oriental food?"

Kevin and Gail looked at each other. "Um ... you mean like chow mein?" Kev asked.

"Well, something like that," my lady answered.

"Sure, sounds good," they answered.

"Great! There's a little place just off campus. You'll love it!"

We were looking at the menus when Gail snickered, "Poo Poo? Um, they don't mean that, do they?"

"Of course. It's considered a delicacy in some parts of the world," I replied with as straight a face as I could manage.

I should have remembered the elbow.

"Tommy, cut it out!

"Don't worry, Kev," my lady reassured him. "It's just an appetizer platter—egg rolls, chicken wings, things like that."

"Why did they call it THAT?" Gail wanted to know.

"Just a difference in languages, I guess. Most places spell it 'Pupu.' My dad says it originally started in Hawaii. So it's probably an Hawaiian word," Beth answered. "Let's order a couple and see what we get."

Despite their trepidation over the name, the pair had no problem once the trays of food arrived. Beth and I managed to grab a couple of things off one of the platters before the locusts devoured the rest. When the platters were empty I counted my fingers just to make sure I hadn't lost any in the flurry.

By the time we finished eating and got back to the duplex, everybody was ready to call it a night. The kids rolled out their sleeping bags and I exercised great restraint in not reminding them that the bags could be zipped together.

Once we were in bed, Beth rolled over to face me. "Tommy, you really read Kevin the riot act today about being prepared for winter."

"Yeah, I guess I did. I just don't want to have to go through with him what I did with you."

My lady had the grace to look a little embarrassed as I pulled her close.

The next morning the four of us grabbed a quick breakfast and loaded into Kev's car. I was going to offer to drive, but figured he'd have a better chance of remembering where the place was if he drove. Besides, I figured he'd want a chance to show off his new ride.

I had always thought my lady was the world's biggest bibliophile, but I might have to revise my opinion. When we walked into the two bookstores, I swear Gail had an orgasm. An hour later, we finally escaped, each with a bag of goodies. I was a little surprised to see Kevin was almost as avid a book buyer as Gail—I remembered Mom and Dad constantly battling to get him to read. Apparently Gail's love of reading was rubbing off.

"Tommy, who are Uncle Edgar and Uncle Hugo?" Gail asked, referring to the stores' names.

"Edgar Allan Poe and Hugo Gernsback."

"I know who Poe is, so I guess a mystery bookstore named for him would make sense, but who is Gernsback?

"He was a writer and publisher in the early part of the Twentieth Century and started the first science fiction magazine, so what else would you name a store devoted to science fictions books? He got involved in radio and early television, too."

Gail just nodded

Since book shopping was such hard work, I was informed by my brother that food was in order. I directed him to a restaurant we'd tried before. I had an ulterior motive—the place was about a mile down one of the busiest streets in the area and I wanted to see how well Kev could navigate through traffic. He turned out to be a better driver than I suspect I'd been when the ink was still wet on my license.

Kev and Gail left shortly after we got back home and Beth and I spent the rest of Saturday afternoon cleaning the apartment. What fun.

The following Thursday was Thanksgiving and the whole gang— Beth and me, my parents and brother along with Gail and her mother—were going to be celebrating at Chuck and Bev's this year. My lady was bringing two of her pumpkin pies so our place smelled like heaven Wednesday night. It took dire threats on her part to make sure both pies made it untouched through the night. Beth's pumpkin pies were something special.

When we got to Beth's parents' house my folks were already there and Kev pulled up just as we were walking up the driveway. I hid a little smirk when I saw him jump out of the car and run around to open the doors for Gail and her mom. That earned me a gentle nudge in the ribs.

"Quit smirking. Just because he learned it from you."

How does she do that?

Beth and Mrs. Hanson immediately joined the two moms in the kitchen. I wandered out to the sun room where Chuck and my dad were talking computers and software. Chuck had just added a couple of new CNC machines and the two of them were deep into a discussion on numeric control stuff. When I heard them mention "G code" several times I almost interrupted. I mean, a G spot, sure, but G code?

I gently cleared my throat.

"Oh, hi, Tommy!" Chuck said. "Help yourself to the goodies." I looked over at the table and saw it was piled with crackers, cheese, a bowl full of punch, and all the other pre-feast eats.

"I could never figure out why we'd need all this stuff when we're going to be sitting down to a huge meal in a few minutes. I made the mistake of asking once and just got 'the look' from Bev," he added.

By that time, Kev had joined us and quickly loaded a plate.

"You remember when you could eat like that?" my dad asked Chuck.

"Oh, yeah. I'm not quite that senile yet," he chuckled.

"Okay, everybody, it's time to eat!" Bev said from the doorway a few minutes later. "Kev, put down that plate and come to the table!"

I glanced at Chuck and got a grin in return. It didn't have to make sense, it just was.

"So how is your special project coming, Tommy?" Chuck asked after we'd finished the feast Bev had prepared.

"Pretty good. I never realized how much work goes into catalog-type photography. It's been quite an education, which is the point, I guess."

"Are you learning anything useful?"

"Oh, yeah, I've picked up a lot of new lighting techniques already," I said, thinking back to all the time I'd spent on that one sculpture. We talked about school for a while with Beth getting as much of a grilling as I did. Kev and Gail sat there looking relieved that someone else was on the hot seat for a change. The funny thing was, the questions didn't have the same edge I remembered from when I was in high school. Was that a change in my perspective, or was everybody just treating me more as an adult?

Eventually, Bev got up. "Well, I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm dying to try some of Beth's pies. Any takers?" Silly question.

Monday it was back to school, and the thought of getting back to work on the project made getting through Accounting almost bearable. I knew understanding finances was a necessity for running a business but I thought Jeanie had the right idea—hire a relative whose idea of fun was making up Excel spreadsheets all day long.

"Well, gang, we're almost done with our part of the catalog," Mr. Nordstrom announced when we were all in the studio. "We've got only a few more items and then the GA folks can take over." The kids in the Graphic Arts program would be doing the layout of the book itself. I'd have liked to help on that part of the project just to get a feel for what went into the layout and publication side of things, but life was complicated enough with classes and keeping up with my growing list of clients. I was amazed at how much business I was getting from referrals. Looked like keeping people happy was good for business. Not to mention my sideline with my tripod adapters. That reminded me to stop in and see Joe at the photo shop to ask if it was time to order another batch.

Things rolled along just fine until the week before Christmas and Winter Break. Beth had volunteered to have everybody over for Christmas Eve dinner, and her fidget level was reaching max even though everyone was helping out with something. My mom was bringing the au gratin potatoes, Gail volunteered the deserts, Bev, the salads, and she and Chuck were providing the ham—all we had to do was fix it. Well, that and supply the relishes and all the pre-meal goodies.

The bomb dropped Saturday morning.

"Tommy, it's your turn to do the shopping. I've got a list on the fridge."