Chapter 18

Monday, October 1, 2001

The next morning had a serious dose of deja vu for Dave. Decades before, he'd gotten up and around in the morning, and then walked the three blocks to the same elementary school. Most of the time, after he'd gotten out of kindergarten, he'd done it alone, both going to and from school, since his mother's schedule out at General and the school schedule didn't match up very well. Now, he'd be walking to school again, from just across the street -- but with Tyler and Cameron. How much things had changed -- and how much they'd stayed the same...

Dave had called Cindy Stein, the principal, almost a week before to let her know Tyler and Cameron would be coming. Cindy had been nothing but helpful, but asked a favor of Dave: "Can we enroll the boys today or tomorrow by fax or something? If we can have them enrolled by the official count date of Friday it'll mean $13,000 in state aid to us." There had been a little extra messing around, but Dave figured it had been worth it, for the sake of good will if nothing else. But it meant this morning there was little paperwork to do, nothing that made a clear-cut transition in his own mind.

He walked the boys to school, introduced them to Mrs. Stein, who took them to meet their teacher, a bright, smiley woman named Mrs. Wisner. They spent a minute or two of small talk; the boys seemed shy, but Dave figured it would be best if he got out of there, so gave them a hug and left. As he walked up the hall with Cindy, she commented, "Your boys seem interested in getting to school."

"I think so," Dave agreed. "They hadn't really had time to get settled in their old school, so I don't think the transition is a big deal for them. Everything else, though ... well, I'm kind of worried."

"Losing their mother?" Cindy asked quietly.

"Yeah," Dave sighed. "All in all, they've taken it well, better than I have. I keep waiting for them to recognize reality and blow up."

"You may be lucky," Cindy told him. "The reality may be slow to set in, and it may never hit them all that hard. Still, I made sure that Roberta, their teacher, knows what happened and what the conditions are. We had a psychologist, one the intermediate school district contracts with, come in one day late last week to give us some idea of how to deal with this. Have the boys had any counseling?"

"Not officially, but a friend is a clinical psychologist and has worked with them quite a bit. It seemed to help. Kids aren't her field, but she said at that level it doesn't matter."

"Well, we'll keep a close eye on things," Cindy promised. "I'll make it a point to ask Roberta about them frequently, and maybe observe myself a little. If there's any problems, you want us to contact you, right?"

"Absolutely, and I'm going to be available virtually all the time, except when I'm out of town. My mother will be available when that happens. I'm expecting to be gone two or three days every month or so, but I'll definitely be around for the next several weeks. I just hope we have the boys settled in and comfortable with being here before it happens."

"We'll do our best," Cindy promised, and asked him to confirm she had the correct phone numbers. There was a little updating since she didn't have the landline number at the house -- Dave hadn't known it the last time he'd talked to her -- but with that done, there seemed to be little left to do. All of a sudden, he was standing outside the schoolhouse door, with no idea of what to do next.

There were things that needed to be done, of course -- but considerably less than if Emily and Liz had not done so much to get things set up for him. He really wasn't quite mentally ready to tie into the finishing bits of Dithyran's Probe, which he'd been unable to finish last week with everything else going on, and he 'd hardly even thought about Swordsman of Atlantis, his next major project, although it looked comparatively clean at first glance. He realized getting down to work and concentrating on them were going to be his best escape, but he wanted to be ready to start, first.

One thing crossed his mind as needed doing today: groceries. While Emily or Liz or someone had left a few basic supplies in the kitchen, there really wasn't much there for real meals. It was a bit of a problem -- the grocery store was only a few blocks away, but it would be a long walk with an armload of groceries, since he had no car.

On the other hand, it didn't need to be a real problem, either. It was only a short walk downtown, about five blocks, and it was a nice morning for a walk. A few minutes later he stepped into the Spee-D-Mart, to find Emily behind the counter. "Did the boys get to school all right?" she asked.

"Oh, yes, I took them," he replied, looking around the store. It seemed much the same as it had been the last time he'd been in Bradford -- coolers along one side of the room and in back, several racks of snack foods and a few staples, a coffeepot near the counter. Oh, wait, there was something new -- a cappuccino machine next to the coffee pot. That had to be a big deal for this place. "They've got Mrs. Wisner for a teacher," he added.

"Good, they'll like her," Emily told him. "Both Kayla and JJ had her; they just loved her to death."

Dave got a cup of coffee and a doughnut and relaxed -- he hadn't bothered to make coffee at home, and for that matter, wasn't sure he even had any. He and Emily talked things around for a couple minutes before Dave got down to the real reason why he came. "Is there any place around I can rent a car?" he asked. "I need to go get some groceries and do some other running. I thought I might as well work out where I'm going to rent a car when I have to drive to New York."

"Boy, not in town, for sure," Emily shook her head. "There might be someone in Hawthorne, but I doubt it. The nearest place I know of for sure is the airport in Kalamazoo. Dave, if you're going to be living here, you need a car or something."

"I don't know," he shrugged. "Emily, I've never owned a car. Even when I lived here before, I borrowed Mom's, rode with friends, or did without. It just wasn't practical for me to own a car in New York. The parking is terrible, and what you can find is very expensive; the traffic is terrible, and you can get there quicker on the subway or something. The few times I needed a car, like for road trips back here, I rented one."

"You sure can't do it here," Emily shook her head. "We have no public transportation, except when the county senior citizen bus comes to town in the morning and afternoon."

"But Emily," Dave protested. "I don't know a thing about cars. I mean, I know how to drive, but not well, since I never did it much. I don't know a thing about buying cars, or what needs to be done to them, or anything like that."

"Jesus," Emily shook her head. "I can't believe a Bradford guy could get into his thirties and still be a virgin about cars."

"There it is," Dave sighed. "Like I said, I have never had the need for one."

"All right," Emily said with an audible note of exasperation. "Kevin has to work late tonight, but I'll see what else I can do." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a wad of keys, taking one from the ring. "Here's the key to my minivan so you can go get groceries or whatever. You'll have to walk over to get it; I'm here by myself till noon, and I don't have a spare helmet, so I couldn't take you on the bike anyway. Don't be in too big a rush about a car; I won't need the van for a couple days while the weather is nice. Have to get the seat time on the Harley, you know. It won't be long and it'll be too cold."

Dave took a sip of his coffee and did his best to change the topic. It was embarrassing, at the least, to admit being such a neophyte about cars. Hell, Emily knew more about them than he did. So did a lot of other women he could name, including Shae. It felt as his manhood were somehow being assaulted. After all, guys were supposed to know about cars, not women...

After a while he finished his coffee, threw his cup in the trash, said "Later" to Emily, and started off walking toward her house. The streets and houses were familiar, although there were some subtle differences in what he recalled from when he last lived in Bradford. Here someone had added a garage; there someone had made a major change in the color a house had been painted. Kevin and Emily's house -- well, it hadn't been their house then; it had belonged to the family of some kid a year or two ahead of him. He could make out the face in his mind's eye but couldn't have come up with the name if his life had depended on it.

Dave had never driven a minivan, but it proved to not be any big deal despite the slightly different seating position and viewpoint. He headed to the grocery store, got a cart, and started filling it. It was sort of random shopping, impulse buying, since he hadn't made any plans about meals and wasn't sure what he had in the house anyway.

There were a couple other minor errands to deal with, and he was back at the house putting the groceries away by noon. He had just finished up when there was a knock on the door. He opened the door, to find a tall, older bearded man, wearing a loose shirt and a kilt. Not what you'd expect to find in Bradford, he thought -- and then his memory filled the gap: this was Jason MacRae, Vicky's husband! He remembered Jason -- he was about as hard to forget as Shae, in his own way. He was a character from the word go: he was very much into Scottish cultural activities, and had been even back when Dave and Vicky were in high school. Jason was quite a bit older, he remembered someone saying, and in fact had retired from General. He, Vicky, and Emily's husband Kevin ran a custom and collectible knife shop, he remembered being told. Jason's knives were real art if you were into that sort of thing. "Why, Jason!" Dave smiled. "Good to see you again."

"Aye, good ta see ya, too," Jason replied in a broad Scottish accent. Dave remembered Emily or someone saying he could turn the accent on and off like a faucet, and it was really pretty fake. But, it helped sell knives; it made them more exotic, or something. "Yon Emily said ye were needin' some help wi' buyin' a car."

"Yeah," Dave sighed. "I'm afraid I don't know jack shit about cars."

"That's why she sent me," Jason smiled, dropping the accent. "I have a reputation for being able to haggle pretty good, and I've dealt with a few car dealers over the years."

In a few minutes the two of them were in Jason's pickup truck, heading out to the dealer. In times Dave could remember, Bradford had had two dealerships, Ford and Chevy. The Ford dealership went belly up back while Dave was in high school, and now only the Chevy dealer was left, the last survivor of what had once been half a dozen car dealerships in town. "We can head into Hawthorne if we don't find anything we like," Jason explained. "But my experience is it's usually a pretty good idea to just deal with Pat. He's pretty honest for a car dealer, anyway, and since you and I are from Bradford he's not even going to think about pulling anything shady or we could start rumors. Besides, he's going to know your story, and he'll be sympathetic. Do you have any idea of what you're looking for?"