Chapter 2

Mr. Bell's evil invention woke me early Saturday morning. Alright, it was about ten, but after the night before, that still constituted early in my book.

"Are you the shyster who was taking pictures at The Palace last night?"

Shyster?

"I'm Tommy Randahl, and, yes, I was working at The Pizza Palace last night. Can I help you?"

"Yeah. Are you the one who tried to talk my daughter into some pictures? She's been talking about nothing but the 'special' picture you did for her friend."

A special picture? I thought back to the "special" pictures I'd done and couldn't imagine that I'd mentioned the idea to any of the kids last night.

"Um, I'm sorry, but I'm a little confused. Who did I mention special pictures to?"

"My daughter and her friends, that's who."

"Excuse me, but who are you and who is your daughter?"

"Vince Wills is my name, Tanya is my daughter."

Tanya? "Oh, one of Sally's friends! I remember her and the other girls, but I don't recall mentioning anything about any special pictures."

"Well she sure did. Something about a bunch of pictures made into one."

"Oh, a collage. Tanya mentioned that she'd seen the one I'd done for Sally and asked if I could do one for her right then. Unfortunately, the equipment I had last night wasn't what I would normally use so I told her I couldn't do it right there."

"And how much do you charge for those special pictures?"

I was explaining my prices to him when Beth rolled over and cuddled up behind me, reaching around and doing her best to distract me.

I managed to finish stammering my prices and Vince sounded a little less combative. He said he'd talk to Tanya and maybe call back for an appointment. From the sound of things, I'd be getting a call later that day. I had a feeling the young girl had her father wrapped firmly around her little finger and he knew it but couldn't do anything about it.

"So, what was that all about?" my princess asked as she continued to distract me.

I told her about my conversation with Vince and got a chuckle out of Beth when I mentioned his comment about his daughter wanting a "special" portrait.

"I mean, we're talking about a bunch of tweeners. No way I'm doing a special for any of them. Luckily what she was talking about was a collage, but I thought my heart would stop there for a second!"

"Well, it's working fine now," Beth said as she slid down my body and enveloped me in the warm cave of her mouth.

Later that afternoon that evil Scotsman's insidious device roused me again from a peaceful slumber.

"Is this Tommy who does the great pictures?"

Now how was I supposed to answer that? I mean, it was flattering to be asked, but I was going to be in trouble no matter how I responded. If I answered "yes" I'd sound like an egotistical snob, and if I said "no" I'd be listening to a dial tone.

"Um, this is Tommy Randahl. Can I help you?"

"Tommy, this is Tanya, Sally's friend, you remember from last night? Dad said he talked to you and said you could do a picture for me like Sally's. You know, the one with all the pictures on the same picture?"

"Um, sure. We'll have to set up a time when we can come over. So your folks are okay with the idea?"

"Yeah, I asked my dad. My mom's not around anymore. But he said it would be okay."

"Is he there so we can set up a time?"

"Um, not right now, but he said I should call you and set it up and he'd be sure to be here."

I dithered a little about that. The idea of committing a parent to something on the word of their pre-teen child just seemed like an invitation to all sorts of problems. I finally let Tanya talk me into a session a week from Wednesday. I had a feeling I'd be spending a lot of time with my fingers crossed until her whole job was over.

Thursday afternoon found me cleaning up the garage and getting everything ready for winter. Putting the hoses and gardening stuff away and exchanging spades for snow shovels.

"Hey, Tommy, how's it going?"

I turned and saw our neighbor standing in the doorway.

"Not too bad, George. How about you?"

"Looks like you're almost ready for the snow to start flying. But, didn't you have a snow blower last winter?"

"Yeah, but Greg took it when he and Cindy moved out."

"That's a hell of a way to say goodbye," George huffed.

"Well, it was only fair. I mean it was his dad who brought it over in the first place."

"Oh, I didn't know that. Guess that means I shouldn't punch him next time he's over here, huh?"

I just laughed. A lot of kids my age didn't want to have anything to do with old people but I found any conversation with my eighty-plus-year-old neighbor was going to be a learning experience, along with being an enjoyable way to kill some time.

"You looking for a replacement?" George asked.

"Yeah. I guess I got spoiled the last couple of years."

'Well, if you don't mind a used machine, there's a guy just a couple of blocks from here that rebuilds snow blowers and lawnmowers and sells them. Want me to give him a call and see what he's got?"

"Is that the guy who always has a few machines at the end of his driveway? I remember driving past his place. Does he do good work?"

"Yeah, stop by and see what he's got."

When George finally decided he'd wasted enough of my time, despite any protestation on my part, and meandered off across the alley, I made a mental note to stop by his friend's place and see what he had. I didn't want to spend a lot of cash, but at the same time I didn't want to face winter without something to help move the snow. There was no way I wanted to shovel our whole driveway by myself, but suggesting to my brother that a little help would be nice once the white stuff started flying would be met by a large helping of brotherly scorn. It was funny, because as much as I'd detested shoveling and yard work when I was at home, I found it was almost enjoyable when I was doing it at my own place ... and pace. Since Kevin was our tenant, I guess I could understand his reluctance to help out, but it was still a little frustrating. Especially when I could remember Dad giving me the "wait until it's your own place" speech more than once.

It was always maddening to find out your parents were right.

Again.

I was just finishing up my cleaning when Beth waltzed out, phone stuck to her ear.

"Val and Brad invited us over for dinner tomorrow, can we make it?" she asked.

"Sure!" It had been a while since we had seen our friends and an evening together sounded good.

"Tommy said we're clear tomorrow, so we'll see you then!" my lady said into her phone as she turned and wandered back into the house.

Friday morning I woke up to an interesting aroma. I wandered out to the kitchen and saw a beautiful sight—my princess—wearing only one of my shirts—bending over to pull something out of the oven. I sidled up behind her and almost got a cake in the face.

"Damn it, Tommy! Don't do that when I've got something hot in my hands!"

"Sorry! I was just wondering what the great smell was, and then I saw you bending over, and ... well... , " I ran down.

"What you almost did was scare me enough to have the cake for tonight all over the floor," Beth grumbled as she set the cake on a cooling rack. Once the cake was safe, she backed up until she bumped into me.

"Oops! Sorry!" she said as she gyrated her perfect derriere against me. I may not be the brightest guy, but some times...

"So you're done baking?" I asked as I reached around to cradle her perfect little breasts in my hands.

"Yeah. Now it's time to cook!" she said as she grabbed my hand and dragged me into the bedroom to meet my fate.

"Hi guys! Come on in!" Brad was grinning from ear to ear as he stood in the doorway. "Ooh, goodies!" he said when he saw the cake.

"Hey, you two," Val said as she came out of the kitchen. "Everything is ready to go. All we—or rather you guys— have to do is pop the steaks on the grill.

"Beth, can you give me a hand?" she asked my lady.

"Sure. We'll just leave those two to their own devices."

"That's my cue," Brad mumbled. "Come on, Tommy. You can lend me some moral support."

Once we had the steaks on the coals and cold drinks in our hands we sat back and watched our dinner sizzle. I looked at Brad as he sat sprawled on a lawn chair, tossing a tennis ball from hand to hand, and thought back to the previous year when we saw him on his back in a hospital bed on his wedding day, his leg in traction, all thanks to a truck driver who was later convicted of drunk driving. Brad had been out of school for almost three weeks and when he came back he was on crutches for what seemed like forever. Obviously he was back in shape now.

"Tommy, can you keep a secret?"

"I think so. What's up?"

"I'm going to be a daddy!" he said, a grin wreathing his face.

"Great! Who's the lucky girl?" I kidded my friend.

I should have remembered he was armed. The tennis ball got me in the right ear just as our lovely ladies walked up just in time to catch the bombardment.

"Hey, you two, quit fooling around and give us a hand," Valery grumbled as she struggled with a platter full of plates, bowls, and eating utensils.

"Brad, do you have to keep playing around with that damned ball?" she grumbled.

"Sorry. Just force of habit," he said as he took the tray from her after he retrieved the ball from under the picnic table.

"Ever since the accident, he's been constantly playing with that damned thing. Claims it's therapy," Val told us.

"Well, it is," Brad replied, defensively. "The therapist said strengthening my hands would make using the crutches easier."

"So why are you still playing with it? I mean, you haven't needed crutches for months!"

"I don't know. Just a habit I got into, I guess."

"Well, cut it out!

"You'd think he could find something better to squeeze," she added under her breath. That got a lewd chuckle from my lady.

The rest of the evening was great. We devoured the steaks, salads and everything else Val had prepared and finished up with Beth's cake. Stuffed, we all settled in to watch the sun setting through the trees. By the time the sun was gone we were chased inside by the mosquitoes, and spent another hour yakking away. You'd think we hadn't seen each other for years.

Eventually, we made our way home, still feeling full from dinner.

"Can you believe Val's having a baby?" Beth asked as we got ready for bed.

"Yeah, I can. She always struck me as a motherly type, even when she was chasing me. I think she's going to make a good mother and Brad will be right there with her. Boy or girl, that's going to be one lucky kid."

"One thing for certain, they're going to have some interesting stories to tell the little one," my lover said as I cuddled up behind her.

Sunday we were at my folks' house for our usual family dinner. Chuck and his mother had arrived back in town the previous night and this was the first time we'd all been together since our trip to Ohio for Chuck's dad's funeral.

Dinner was almost over when Marty started the inquisition.

"So, young lady, what's this foolishness about you spending the Winter in Antarctica?"

Beth looked at her grandmother.

"That's right. I have the opportunity to spend Winter quarter working at the research station at McMurdo Sound."

Marty looked at her son. "And you are going to allow her to do this?"

"Certainly. As a matter of fact I encouraged her to accept the offer," Chuck answered. "It'll be a great learning experience for her."

It was interesting watching her expression at Chuck's answer. It was obvious she'd expected her son to agree with her.

"But, but ... I mean what can the weather be like down there in the wintertime?"

"Marty, remember the seasons are reversed south of the equator—December, January, and February are Summer down there," I said, trying to ease her qualms.

"But, still, it has to be freezing!"

"No worse than late Fall or early Spring around here," Beth defended her plan.

"That can't be! I've seen articles that mention forty or fifty below temperatures at the pole!"

"That's true, but McMurdo isn't that near the pole. It's on the coast and the ocean helps temper the climate."

"Well, it still sounds like madness to me, but if you are determined to go, I hope you bring plenty of warm clothes."

Beth and I exchanged grins as we thought back to our shopping trip to get her stuff for the trip.

"I've got the latest in survival gear," my princess answered. "I'll be more than adequately equipped for any weather that I'm likely to encounter."

"Well, I still think you're foolhardy for even considering it. I just don't want to lose my granddaughter when I've only begun to know you. But you're an adult now and have to learn from your own mistakes, I guess."

Wednesday evening Beth and I loaded up the Jeep and drove to the Wills' house for Tanya's portrait session. Vince met us at the door.

"So you're a photographer, huh?" he challenged.

"Yes, sir. I hope we've arrived at a good time. Tanya said tonight would work well."

"Yeah. Sometimes I think she knows my schedule even better than I do. Come on in. Can I help you with anything?"

"I think Beth and I have everything we'll need, but thanks for the offer. Oh, maybe you could grab those white umbrellas?"

"Sure," he said. "Are these props, or what?"

"No, I use them to reflect the lights. It helps soften the shadows."

"Oh. Did you have those on Friday?"

"Yeah, but just one of them. Janine suggested keeping things simple, so I just went with a one-light setup."

"So why have so many tonight?"

"Well, it gives me more control of shadows and gives me a lot more choices of poses."