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-DurtyRiter
The Man with the Jeep
Chapter 55
John had no time to ponder that exchange before he was inundated with incoming family.
"I'm going to win next time," Taylor declared adamantly as she came around the corner. "Emma just barely beat me."
"We'll see," answered Emma from under her well-used paper Burger King crown.
"Not if I beat you!" countered Dalton. "I just wanted mine to look cool this time, that's all."
They bantered back and forth until Grace had them dish up their food.
He soon found that even though Andrew's family was smaller and somewhat more reserved than his, it didn't mean there was any less of a commotion when dinner was being served. How three small children (or two really, since Emma was naturally more reserved) could generate such synergistic chaos was mystifying. He'd always chalked up the intensity of his own family gatherings to sheer numbers, but maybe there was more to it than that.
Either way, he quickly felt like part of the family. He found himself joining in the banter and even light teasing as they traded stories around the table. He hadn't dared hope he would fit in so well.
The only one present that didn't seem ebullient and engaged was Rick. He seemed as stable as a big rock in the middle of a creek. The interactions flowed around him like water. He would interject and respond as need arose, but bubbly conversation was clearly not his forte.
At first, John was content to just leave well enough alone, but he soon realized he was just being lazy. He wasn't used to interacting with anyone like Rick. He took comfort in knowing that it was due to his own quirky personality rather than John not measuring up. At least that's what John decided. He began to pay a little more attention.
It was true the conversations went around him rather than through him. What came across as cold and unfeeling was shown to be just a mildly blank expression as he listened to the people around him. When he spoke, everyone stopped to listen to what he had to say. Everything he said carried weight. His contributions were never harsh, cutting, or frivolous. On the contrary, he was adept at nuance, substance, and insight. He was like a guru, and John's respect for him grew over the course of the meal.
He still had no idea what Rick thought of him, but he got the impression Rick hadn't yet decided. John found himself having to work very hard not to become self-conscious or start second-guessing himself under Rick's watchful eye.
Completely oblivious to John's turmoil, the family happily rolled through lunch. Even Andrew was more free and easy once he had seen his family and John were getting along famously. John loved seeing him in his element.
The kids gave everyone a recounting of interesting moments from school, Grace embarrassed them with stories from after they got home, and all the guys told a tale or two from work.
Once lunch had been cleared, the kids decided they wanted to play with the adults instead of heading back downstairs, so a board was set up for Settlers of Catan. Taylor demanded John help her win and Dalton joined forces with "Uncle TomTom." A lively game ensued with Gail being declared the winner after all was said and done.
"Now cake!" crowed Dalton.
"There's no table right now," pointed out Gail with a smile.
Taylor and Dalton sprang into action to put the game back in the box as quickly as humanly possible. Or maybe even faster, John chuckled to himself. He would have sworn the box was packed and gone before Gail had made it to the kitchen door to get the cake.
A few minutes later, the chandelier lights were dimmed and Gail returned with a cake covered with 24 flickering candles. The excited kids launched into "Happy Birthday" the moment her foot crossed into the doorwayÑ-two keys too high for everyone else, of course.
Thomas made his wish and blew out the candles with a big whoosh. All except for one that refused to go out, much to the kids' delight. He cut himself a slice of cake before turning the knife over to Gail.
The privilege of the coveted second slice was decided with a coin toss in Dalton's favor, much to Taylor's chagrin. She rewarded him by sticking out her tongue when her parents were looking the other way.
"So, John," Gail began once she finished divvying out the rest of the cake. "What kind of traditions do you have for birthdays with your family?"
"I don't remember traditions per se," he answered. "Just a lot of commotion mostly. Unfortunately, most of us have moved away, so I don't get to see many of them these days."
"That's a shame."
"It is," he agreed. "There are so many of us with so many different quirks, that it's more about who's birthday we happen to be celebrating at the time."
"That makes sense."
"Yeah. Some are gluten-free, some are lactose-intolerant, and others don't even celebrate birthdays.
It's gotten hard to keep up with," he admitted.
"I can understand that," said Gail.
"How many siblings do you have?" Grace asked.
"Eight," John answered. "Four brothers and three sisters."
"Oh wow," Grace responded. "And where do you fall in that line?"
"I'm the youngest boy, but I have two younger sisters."
"If you're one of the youngest, do they all have families of their own?" asked a curious Gail.
"Almost all of them now," John replied. My sister Ann, who is just younger than me, is still single too. Everyone else is married with at least one kid."
"I can see how you can play family sports," chuckled Roger.
"Yeah. I wouldn't trade them for anything, but we can be a little much for most people."
"What's the age difference between you?" asked Thomas.
"I think it's 24 years between the oldest and the youngest."
"Oh my!" exclaimed Gail.
"Yeah," laughed John. "We jokingly say we are three families in one. The first two were born right after the other and then there is a little bit of a gap before the next three. Then there's a much bigger gap before me and my last two sisters."
"Was that on purpose?" Grace asked.
"You know, I have no idea," chuckled John. "I've never gotten around to asking."
"Funny," commented Roger.
"But understandable," Gail added. "It's really no one else's business regardless of how interesting the rest of us find it."
"Sorry," Grace apologized quickly. "I didn't mean to get too personal."
"No worries," John assured her. "Everyone asks that. It's even worse at family reunions. My dad is from a big family too, so we end up spending half the time just trying to figure out who everyone is and how they fit in," he laughed.
"No kidding!"
"Yeah, there are thirteen of them, and even though they don't all have big families like ours, there are enough that it's kind of crazy when we meet up at camp."
"You keep mentioning a camp," noted Roger. "Is that somewhere near here?"
"Yeah, it's called `The Three Jacks,' and it's not too far up the highway."
"I know that place," said Gail. "It's nice."
"Thanks," said John. "We try."
"You can tellÑ-especially at the diner. There was a super nice waitress when I went there last time. She was so good!"
"That would be Mabel," John laughed. "She's been amazing forever." He threw a quick `I told you so' wink at Andrew.
Andrew smiled. "She's still there. And still talking a million miles an hour."
"That's definitely her," Gail confirmed. "So sweet."
"So you own the place now?" Roger asked.
"Technically, it's owned by a family trust, but I manage it."
"And you want to go into real estate on top of that?" asked Gail.
"Well yeah," John answered. "We have some good people there, so it pretty much runs itself at this point. I want the challenge of building something of my own now."
"Nothing wrong with that," Rick opined.
"Thanks. I've actually been talking with Andrew about possibly jumpstarting his goals at the same time," he cautiously announced.
"Oh really?" asked Gail. "How would you do that?"
"First off, we only just started talking about it, so nothing's decided yet. But a friend of the family has an old nursery that has been sitting idle that is willing to do a rent-to-own arrangement with Andrew if he wants to. It even includes a house, so my thought was to take over his mortgage so he wouldn't have to worry about two payments a month."
John caught Andrew's look of alarm and instantly regretted that he didn't check with Andrew before he made his announcement. Oops. He had gotten a little too comfortable with the family and let his guard down enough to speak without thinking first. He didn't mean to put Andrew on the spot like that.
"When were you going to tell us about this?"
"What?"
"Is that a good idea?"
"Are you sure about this?"
John kicked himself hard mentally.
"Seriously, we just barely started talking about it this week," he interjected. "It was just a possibility that occurred to me, so I told him about it. I don't think he's even had time to think about it yet."
"I really haven't," Andrew said.
"Not at all?" Grace insisted.
"Maybe a little, but not enough to make a decision, that's for sure. It sounds intriguing and exciting, but also scary and complicated. That's as far as I've gotten."
"Would you have to quit your job to do it?" asked a worried Gail.
"Probably," confirmed Andrew. "It'd be too much for one person to do both."
"But how would you be able to pay for it? These things don't generate cash right out of the gate, you know."
"I know," he assured her. "I'd probably need to get a business loan to pull it off. John has even offered to bankroll the difference if the house isn't enough."
Even the taciturn Rick's eyebrows went up at that.
"Let me get this straight," Thomas said. "John would give you a business loan to start your flower shop or whatever and it would include a house, so you'd move there and what, sell your house to John?"
"Pretty close," Andrew admitted. "As I understand it, he would buy my house and I could take the profits and use that as a nest egg to get the business started."
"Do you have that much equity?" asked Roger.
"I have a good amount, yes. I don't know if it's quite enough, but it's probably close enough to make it work with John's help. I still need to crunch some numbers."
"Okay, it doesn't sound quite as hare-brained when you put it that way," admitted Gail.
"Like John said, I'm just mulling it over right now."
There was a lull in the conversation for a moment before Thomas looked at John with a twinkle in his eye.
"You sure know how to liven up conversation! That's twice in a row where you've added commotion to the table!"
"My bad," said John with no small amount of humility as he caught Andrew's eye. "I didn't mean to make a fuss."
"We'll get over it," Thomas promised. "A little spice always makes life interesting anyway."
"Interesting plan," said Grace. "Whatever you decide, you know we're behind you one hundred percent."
"Thanks Grace," said Andrew.
"Of course!" Grace then turned to her kids. "Okay, I need you guys to go make sure Grammy won't find a single Lego to step on downstairs."
"ButÑ-" started Taylor before a quick look from her mom cut her off. "Yes, mama."
The little ones dutifully trudged downstairs with Andrew as the rest of the family cleared the table and started to clean the kitchen. John pitched in like everyone else.
Gail turned to John as he loaded the dishwasher.
"You don't need to do that," she said.
"Am I doing it wrong?" he asked.
"Not at all," she said. "But you are our guest."
"Thank you, but many hands make light work, as my mother says, and I want to help."
"Okay," she said after a short pause. "If you want to."
He was determined to follow the family's lead, and more than happy to do at least his share of the cleanup. If nothing else, it was the least he could do after raising a ruckus at the table.
In short order, the kitchen was all cleared and kids were back from picking up the Legos downstairs.
"Andrew," Rick said. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"
"Sure."
They meandered off together somewhere as everyone else got ready to leave.
"It's been so good to see you guys," Gail enthused as she gave each of the kids a hug and a kiss. "I love you!"
"Love you too, Grammy!" they said in chorus as they followed their dad out the door.
"Love you, mom," said Grace as they shared a hug.
"Love you too, honey," she said.
Thomas turned to John.
"Since you guys are going tonight, can I just ride with you?"
"Sure," he replied. "But we can't stay too late and I don't want to leave you stranded there or cut your evening short."
"You won't," Thomas assured him. "I can easily get a ride home from one of the guys. And there's always Uber if I'm wrong."
"Okay then, welcome aboard."
Andrew and Rick soon returned.
John made it a point to go up to Rick and shake his hand.
"Thank you for having me over, sir. It was good to meet your wonderful family."
"Thank you for coming," Rick replied ambiguously before turning to go back to where he had just come from.
Andrew, John, and Thomas each gave Gail a hug and headed out the door.
When they got to John's little car, Andrew being Andrew surprised no one when he insisted on folding himself into the back seat so his brother could sit shot gun despite Thomas's protest.
"Okay, birthday boy," said John. "Where to?"
"It's a place called `Mike's.' Have you heard of it?"
"Nope," John answered affably. "Not a clue."
"Oh, okay. Just get to Powell Blvd and head towards downtown."
"I can do that," John said as he backed into the street. "What's it like?"
"Mike's?"
"Yeah."
"It's just a dive bar close to the station that we like to go to sometimes."
"Just what we need: drunk firefighters to keep us all safe," John teased.
"Hey, we all need some time off, don't we?"
"Indeed we do!" John agreed. "So how are you liking it so far?"
"I love it! The guys are super cool and like I said at dinner, it can be exciting sometimes."
"But not all the time?"
"Most of our calls are for medical help, actually, and those are more gross than exciting." "I suppose they would be."
"Don't get me wrong, it's rewarding as hell to save people's lives. I just find it more fun to shoot down flames and stuff."
"For what it's worth, I'm glad it's not more exciting for you."
"Why not?"
"Because excitement means danger, and I'd hate for anything to happen to you."
"I'll be fine," Thomas insisted. "I had to go through tons of training just to join the team. If we can't keep ourselves alive, we can't save others, you know."
"True."
"So Andrew," Thomas said turning toward the back seat a little. "Are you really going to sell your house and quit your job to do the plant thing?"
"Of course I want to, but like I said, I need to do some more calculations first to make sure it's possible. That's what Dad wanted to talk to me about."
"Really?" John chimed in. "What did he say?"
"He just wanted to make sure I double check my numbers and not jump in too quickly."
"He doesn't like the idea?"
"Oh, he thinks it's probably a good move if it will make me happy as long as the math works. He also recommended I get a business loan through a bank instead of you."
"Did he?"
"Yeah," said Andrew. "It's not that he doesn't trust you," he added quickly. "It's just that he pointed out that we haven't actually known each other for a heck of a long time. He's seen a lot of his friends lose everything when significant others are involved with businesses and shuffling money around, and he doesn't want that to happen to me."
"Then he doesn't trust me," John said, disappointed.
"He doesn't know you very well yet," Andrew pointed out. "I'm not worried about you at all. But he did remind me people can get funny when money is involved."
"I can't fault his logic," John conceded. "I'm just a little bummed is all."
"He'll come around," Thomas promised. "He just comes across a bit strange at first. At least that's what everyone tells me."
"He is a little hard to read," John admitted. "And I'm usually pretty good at that."
"Okay, we're coming up on Mike's. It's right up there on the left," Thomas said, pointing to a low nondescript building about half a block ahead.
John found a spot to park and they made their way to the front door while Thomas traded text messages on his phone.
"They're already here," he announced as they approached the bar.
On a hunch, John held Andrew back just a little so Thomas would be the first one through the door.
They walked in and were immediately confronted with an impressive array of notably attractive men wearing dark blue Fire Department t-shirts.
"Happy birthday, Bottom Boy!"
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DurtyRiter@protonmail.com