Oh, I wanted to hit him. My fingers twitched. If he’d been a man, I would have.
But James moved fast. He snatched Jimmy up by the collar of his sweatshirt. lifted his toes off the floor, and gave him a shake. “Apologize. Now!”
“No!”
“Apologize to your aunt and do it quickly.” Well, there was some of Robert Coxwell in James. He gave Jimmy a look that must have curdled the kid’s blood.
But Jimmy lifted his chin, matching tit for tat. “Will you fix it?”
James smiled a cold courtroom smile. “You are not in a position to plea bargain.”
“Fix it and I’ll apologize.”
“I’m not going to negotiate with you.” Something in that steely gaze made the kid realize he was losing, and he changed his tactics.
“You have to fix it, Dad!” Begging. It was worth a shot.
“If not in the way you expect me to.”
Jimmy’s expression turned wary. “What does that mean?”
“Apologize.”
“I’m sorry,” Jimmy said without a shred of sorrow in his voice.
James shook his head and gave Jimmy a shake, too. “Try again. You’re going to learn right now that you will never call any woman by that name, and that you will never insult your aunt again. Once more, with feeling.”
Jimmy took a breath to argue, but James interrupted whatever he might have said. “I strongly advise you to not push me any further, Mr. Jimmy Coxwell. Perhaps it would be timely to remind you - who did you call the night your mom left? Who did you call when you were afraid? Who dropped everything and took care of you?” He gave the boy a smaller shake, a chiding one. “You owe your aunt better than this and you know it. Don’t blame the person who caught you for your own crime.”
Jimmy blinked. The fight went out of his posture and he flicked a rebellious look at me. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.
James put him on his feet. “Again. Clearly.”
Jimmy looked up at me, his expression finally contrite. “I’m sorry, Auntie Maralys.”
“I guess now you are,” I said.
Before anyone could get too cozy, James put a hand on Jimmy’s back and guided him to the door. En route, he plucked the toy from my hand. He was all business. “Now, we’ve got something to do. Get your coat, please.”
“Where are we going?” Jimmy asked, but he did what he was told.
“You’re the one who wanted it fixed.”
“Where are we going?”
“To wherever you got this.” The kid might have argued, but James gave him a death glare. “Time to learn how to fix things properly.”
“But…”
“No buts. Move it!” There was a pounding on the front door and James opened the door as he shrugged into his coat. He paid for the pizza, then passed it off to me. “Mind waiting for us?” His gaze flicked tellingly to Johnny.
“No, I’m starving. And I need to talk to you anyway. As much fun as this is, I didn’t come ‘round for the show.” I nudged Johnny and went for the light comment. “You guys had better hurry or we’ll eat it all, right Johnny?”
They marched out the door, determined dad and the rebel who had lost his cause, then Johnny and I headed back to the kitchen. I found plates and pop and glasses and paper towels, made him scrub his hands, then we settled down for a feast. Things were quiet, but I was thinking about James’ defense of his own choice of career.
I looked up to find Johnny staring at me, his eyes full of questions. He looked remarkably like a small version of his father. He chewed and swallowed, then tilted his head. “Are you really boinking my dad?”
I bit back a smile. “Do you even know what that means?”
He shook his head, blessedly mystified. “Is it like kissing?” He made a face that expressed his view of that.
“Kind of.”
“Gross! Why do you do it?”
“Well, people have sex - which is what you really call it - when they really like each other.”
His head tilted as he considered me. “Do you really like my dad? Even after that big fight?”
And because there was nobody else around to hear it, I made my confession. It wasn’t even that painful. “Yes. I really do like your dad.”
“Do you wish you hadn’t had that fight?”
“Well, fights are no fun, but your dad’s right. I’m kind of getting used to having you guys around.”
He smiled a smile that could light the city. “I like you too, Auntie Maralys.” Then he gave me a puzzled look. “Am I going to have to boink some girl one day, just because I like her?”
“No.” I laughed at his evident relief. “You should do it with someone who you like a lot, like your partner or your wife. You’ll know her when you meet her.” Leaving out the details and benefits of serial monogamy for the moment, I leaned across the table to snag another slice of pizza. “Trust me, one day you’ll meet a girl and when you think about kissing her, it won’t gross you out.”
Johnny rolled his eyes and used the tone all kids save for the particular stupidities of adults. “I don’t think so, Auntie Maralys.”
* * *
Jimmy and James came back, both quieter and less angry. James went into the living room and came back with a sheet of ledger paper. To my surprise, Jimmy still had the toy.
I understood when James wrote a hefty sum in the debit column of the ledger sheet, then put Jimmy’s name at the top and put the paper on the fridge door.
“You’re going to work this off, just like we agreed,” he said firmly. “In the real world, we save our money to buy things we want. You’ve done it backwards but you’re still going to pay for your toy.”
Jimmy looked up. “How?”
“By doing chores.”
His eyes lit. “I’ll take the garbage out for $100.”
“Fat chance. This is a good opportunity to learn the value of money. You’ll take the garbage out for twenty-five cents and you’ll only do it once a day, after dinner.”
Jimmy rolled his eyes and sat back, not that displeased with his circumstances that he could stop himself from running a hand over the toy. “It’ll take forever.”
“Pretty much,” James acknowledged. “I’ll type up a list tomorrow of chores, including what they’re worth and when they need to be done.” He scored a couple of slices of the chilly pizza and popped them on to plates, sliding one after the other into the microwave. He gave one to Jimmy, then sat down and bit into his own. I got them each a pop.
“Is this what Grandfather did when you wanted something?” Johnny asked.
“No,” James said. “He went with a flat fee allowance. We got a quarter a week each and had to do anything we were asked. If we bought anything that cost more than $5, we had to ask for his permission first.”
“I’m guessing he was a pushover,” I said. James smiled at me across the table. My dad was not a lot of fun when I was a kid, but he couldn’t touch the senior Coxwell for being a control freak. The kids missed the import of this exchange.
“What about me?” Johnny demanded. “I want one too.”
Ah, the spoils of crime were tempting.
James looked at his younger son. “You’re right.” He got another sheet of paper and put Johnny’s name on it, putting it on the fridge beside the first one. It had no opening debit. “You can buy whatever you want with what you earn.”
“Cool!”
“That’s not fair!” Jimmy argued.
“It’s more than fair,” James retorted. “You’re very lucky that the storeowner didn’t want to press charges. He didn’t have to be so understanding.”
“I’m going to do every job first,” Johnny said, sticking out his tongue at his brother. “And by the time you’ve paid for yours, I’ll have enough money to buy a new one and you’ll have to start over again.”
“Fine! Then I won’t let you play with this one!”
“I think -” James said firmly “- you could negotiate an agreement here, among yours
elves.”
“I’ll rent it to you,” Jimmy suggested.
“Kid’s born to be a lawyer,” I muttered.
James fixed his attention on Jimmy, as if he hadn’t heard me. “No, you will not. You will share. If you don’t share, then I’ll take it away completely.”
They ate in silence, Jimmy scowling at his father.
“Aren’t you feeling lucky?” I asked the boy with the attitude.
“I don’t think so,” he muttered, adding an eye roll for emphasis.
James gave the kid a hard look and on some inexplicable impulse I leapt in where angels would clearly fear to tread. “Don’t you have spring break?”
“It’s over.” Jimmy kicked the table leg. “And we didn’t even go to the beach, like Mom promised.” He was working it for all it was worth. “All my friends got a tan and where was I? Not scuba diving, like Mom promised, nooooo, I was packing boxes and now I’ll be taking out the garbage for twenty-five effing cents.”
“Hold it right there,” James started to get to his feet, but I lifted one hand.
I did my best Cruella de Ville voice. “Give him to me.” I smiled as if Jimmy would make a tasty lunch and the kid inched away, uncertain what to expect. His bravado faded. Ah, he was still young and tender and his talk was a thin veneer. I smiled wider and he folded his arms across his chest.
He looked worried. I like that.
“You sure?” James asked, glancing between the two of us.
“I’m sure. A week from Saturday will do nicely.”
“I’m not sure!” Jimmy said with a last try at defiance.
I laughed, my best evil-empress-with-plans-for-world-domination laugh. The kid bolted. I popped another piece of pizza into the nuke, well pleased with myself.
“I want to learn to play, too,” Johnny shouted, looked to his dad for approval to leave the table, then bolted at James’ nod. The boys settled into meaty bickering about who would play when. James left them to work it out themselves.
Frankly, it reassured me that they seemed to have some issues with each other. It’s just not natural for siblings to adore each other. And a little competition prepares them for the real world.
James started to clean up. I picked up plates and glasses, as the boys disappeared into Jimmy’s room to figure out the nuances of the game. Periodic bellows of outrage gave assurance that they were alive and not fatally wounded.
“I’m surprised that you leapt in to volunteer,” James said. “I thought you’d be just about done with all this family stuff.”
“My warm-fuzzy tolerance has been exceeded,” I agreed, though I hadn’t really thought much about it until now. I checked surreptitiously for hives, or at least I thought I was discreet, but after finding none, I found James smiling as he watched me.
“Fatal dose?” he asked with undisguised amusement.
“I must be working up a resistance.”
“As long as it’s not an immunity.”
I heaved a heroic sigh. “I do owe you, after all, for sending you in to the reptile lady’s shop without fair warning.”
James’ smile flashed. He glanced toward Jimmy’s room, then stepped closer. “I forgot. Good thing someone’s keeping track.” He had a gleam in his eye, as if he had been thinking of other terms of reparation.
So was I. My pulse took a predictable leap, but I had to cover what I’d come to do. “Before we get to the bonus round, I’ve been looking at care options for my dad and they all stink. You said you had an idea and I’m listening.”
James leaned his hip against the counter right beside mine. “I was thinking he could move in here.”
“Here?”
“Yeah. I could evict the crown prince from his lair…” he gestured to the room Jimmy had claimed and I shook my head.
“Good luck.”
James looked grim. “It’ll happen, for a good cause. There’s a bathroom back here that your dad could have for his own and another room there that he could use as his own living room when he wanted to escape us. He wouldn’t have to get rid of much furniture, he’d have his own stuff, he’d have everything on one floor, company when he wanted it and privacy when he didn’t.”
I was startled by the generosity of this offer. “There’s no money for him to pay rent, you know. If he sold the house, he’ll have some money from that…”
“But it should be invested in case he gets sick. I don’t want his money, Maralys.” James folded his arms across his chest, clearly prepared to fight me on this. “I think we’re close enough to his neighborhood that he could keep his doctors and still meet up with his pals. It wouldn’t be that big of a change for him.”
“No, it wouldn’t.” I looked around the space, seeing what a terrific idea it was. Then I did the math. “Daycare,” I said flatly, looking at James.
“It’s true that this could be mutually beneficial. Another set of eyes would be welcome. The boys are getting old enough that they could look out for your father, and I’d feel better knowing that he was looking out for them.”
“Planning to run away from home?”
“Planning to get a job, Maralys.” He plucked a series of envelopes off the windowsill. They were of fine stationary, clearly business letters. They were hand-addressed in James’ hand-writing but just with the name of the recipient.
Resumes.
“Can’t you apply electronically?”
He smiled. “We lawyers tend to be a bit old-fashioned, or at least I am. I like good stationery. I like the look and the feel of an elegantly presented resume. It’s about networking, too. I’m delivering them all in person, having lunch here and there, making contact with friends and acquaintances.”
“Any nibbles?”
“There are always prospects. I’d like to find something that’s a little less demanding, but having your father here would definitely ease my mind. I think it would be good for him to have more than his own company, too. Do you think he would like it?”
“I think he’d love it.” It was true. “The boys are the center of his universe. Are you sure that you want him here?”
James’ smile widened. “He and I don’t have the same kind of relationship that you two do. I like your father and I respect him. I think we’d get along just fine.”
“And if not, you can each retreat to your own caves.”
“Something like that.” He eyed me, genuinely uncertain. “Does this make sense, Maralys, or is it a stupid idea? Am I muddling or solving?”
How could I resist that? I reached up and eased his frown away with my fingertip. “I think you’re becoming a great dad, James. I admire that you’re trying to do it your own way. You’re right, having my father around would be good for everyone. He was a pretty good dad, a different kind of dad from yours, and could give you both support and suggestions.”
“A good dad? Despite the way you two fight now?”
I smiled now. “We’re too much the same and we both know it. And I’ve done my share of provoking him.”
He feigned shock. “Not you?”
I punched his shoulder playfully. “I’m not that bad.”
“No, you’re not. Your heart’s in the right place, Maralys.” He looked toward Jimmy’s room and I saw the cogs start to turn again. “Give me a few minutes to get the bike back together and I’ll give you a ride home. The boys probably can’t burn the place down in half an hour.”
“Don’t count on it. I’ll snag a cab.” A lie - I’d take the bus as it was cheaper, but what James didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.
He didn’t tend to believe me though. “NO. It’s getting too late.”
I liked his concern. I liked it a lot. It made me shiver a bit. It had been a long time since anyone worried very much about me, and I was getting used to James’ concern. There is something to be said for Cave Man protecting his vulnerable babe, even if I don’t buy the women-are-by-nature-vulnerable premise.
I caught the back of his neck in my hand and stretched up to kiss
him quickly. James caught his breath, surprised, so I did it again. This time, he leaned into the kiss, wrapping his arm around my waist. Talk about great stuff. Forget pizza - I could live off this man’s kisses.
Which must have been why I said what I did. It was bold, even for me.
“You’re a smart guy, James,” I whispered. “Your kids go to school. You’re unemployed. I work nights. You know where I live. And like you said, I owe you.” I kissed him again, did a little tongue fandango that put a rise in his Levis, then sailed out the door.
My heart was pounding and my skin was tingling. I ran to the closest M stop and wasn’t even out of breath when I got there.
I felt alive. Tonight I’d write some hot*hot*hot code. Guaranteed.
* * *
Subject: lurking
Dear Aunt Mary -
Is it rude to lurk in a chatroom or on a listserve without contributing, or even admitting that you’re there? My pals say it’s wrong, I think it’s interesting. Who’s right?
Listening Lee
–-
Subject: lurking before you leap.
Dear Lee -
Oh, what big ears you have! =8-o
Since every ‘net chatroom or listserve has its own dialect and tolerance of plainspeak, it’s always prudent to lurk before you leap in with a contribution. You are within your rights to simply listen and learn, however it’s rude - if not illegal - to repeat whatever you “hear” or observe. Many groups (like your friends) won’t appreciate your silence, especially if intimacies are being traded.
When in doubt, check with the moderator or listserve owner as to the rules governing the group and/or their expectations of members.
On the other side of the coin, you can never be sure who will read your post in such a situation. As a general rule, if you wouldn’t say it to someone’s face, or if it isn’t something you would want an acquaintance to know about you, don’t post it to a listserve or chatroom.
Play nice, boys and girls, and we’ll all have a better time.
Double Trouble Page 26