Pop: Chapter 7c

     The entryway was just about the same the last time I saw it back in April, no March.  It's been so hectic lately, I can't keep my weeks straight.  The doors to the rest of the house were still locked, but the alcove next to the stairs and apartment entrance was still clear.  That will be in the phase of the remodel.  I go to the doors to unlock them, noticing how there's not a bit of dirt or sawdust anywhere.  The cleaning crew do a pretty good job.

    "Can you hurry up.  I've got some cold stuff here," Rick pipes up.

    "You just brought them from your house a minute ago.  They'll be fine.  Which reminds me."

    I slide the doors open and get out my phone.  A few clicks and swipes and I send out my order to the grocery store.  I had a list prepared for when we got in.  While there's a few things in the fridge, we'll need some fresher things for the week.  Just enough until we get back to New York.

    "Huh, the living room looks the same, " Pete says as he rushes by me to the kitchen to join Rick in putting the food away.

    "The first phase was always going to be the upstairs and the new garage.  The next step is the tear down the old master suite and expand the alcove and entryway.  The rest of the first floor will stay the same."

    I walk past the kitchen into the hall to the bedroom.  The old owners thought they could improve the house by turning the garage into a first floor master and home gym.  Landed them in foreclosure.  I swooped in a got the house cheaper than expected back when I was graduating from college and got my first inheritance checks.  I had thought they were from my grandmother, but they were actually the payments my Dad's father had set up to give to me once I had been found.  My grandmother had hid over twenty years of payments from me and my mother.  I would've lost out on hundreds of thousands of dollars if my grandmother hadn't died when she did.

    I go back to the kitchen after I put down my bags.  Even with it faults, I still love this place.  The original part of the house was Victorian style, but so much had been added on that most the original charm had left.  Hopefully, the remodel will make this house look great again.

    "Chris, where's my stuff?  Don't tell me you got rid of it." Sam yells from the living room as soon as I get into the kitchen.

    "Don't worry.  We packed most of it away last winter, back when we thought we were going to sell this place after the remodel."  I see Sam grimace as soon as meet up with him.  Rick and Pete are just behind me, prevented Sam from going full tantrum.

    "The boxes are mostly in the gym, along with the most of the old furniture from the apartments.  I had a new bedroom set placed upstairs in one of the bedrooms.  All we have to do is put on the sheets.  The rest of it we can take up whenever you want."

    "Well, I for one would like to see what you've done to the place."  Rick, always the peacemaker.

    "So, grab a box and lets start moving."

    We go back to the gym to start grabbing boxes.  Sam looks slightly miffed, and worried.  I'm sure he packed away anything embarrassing himself, but I had to go back later to help move some of the bigger items.  I didn't find anything too bad, at least nothing that would get anyone in trouble.

    Sam stays quiet as we trudge to the new upstairs.  For years, it had been set up as two apartments for college students with a shared bathroom, kitchenette, and work area.  The new floor plan was something closer to the original design.

    "Whoa, separate stairs to the attic now?  Better than the old drop ladder."  Pete just notices these things.

    "Yeah.  I felt it would be easier than having someone try to crawl up a ladder that would be in the new bathroom."

    "Smart.  Which room his Sam's?" Rick asks.

    "First on the left, street side.  The master is at the end of the hall.  Linen closet under the stairs."

    "Hey, may I use the facilities?  The water's all hooked up and everything, right?"  Pete must have been waiting a long time.

    "Sure thing.  Second door on the right. The rear bedroom is slightly smaller, that's why we've got Sam up front.  Let me just look in there to see if it's all right."

    I take a quick peek into the room after I drop off my boxes.  The bath is fully operational.  Slightly larger than the old one.  Needs a few touches.  Toilet paper for one, but I hope Pete doesn't need that yet. I point that out to him as he gives a nod to me as he passes by and locks the door.

    The door bell rings.  I love Sam and Rick as they are trying to unpack Sam's things.  I guessing the less humiliating ones.  I'm not sure who it could be.  It's barely past four and no one should be here for another thirty minutes or so.

    I rush back down as the bell dings again.  I resist the urge to yell, knowing that whoever is out there can't hear me.

    I open the door before it can be rung again.

    "Hi Chris.  I'm early."

    Standing there is the last of my little group from high school, Will Greenwood.  Grey dress pants, white shirt, paisley tie.  The horn rims are new, as is the crew cut.  He's never worn glasses before.

    "Hey buddy.  I thought you weren't going to fly in until five."

    "Well, they moved up the departure time.  Weather issues, I guess.  Besides, I have a surprise for you."

    Will is standing a few feet away from the door.  Definitely not a hugger like Pete. He like to maintain his personal space.  I have no idea what surprise he could have, as he's not carrying anything and his hands are empty.

    "What is it?  Guys usually don't bring gifts to a bachelor party."

    "Oh, this isn't a gift,"  Will says as he grabs something, no someone, hiding just to my right.

    "Hi Chris.  Long time no see."

    "Jim!"

Pop: Chapter 7b

     "Rick!  Why aren't you stopping?" Sam shouts as we continued down the street.  So much for 'Mr. Greenwood.'

    "I have to drop off my car and pick up some of the stuff for the party, Sam.  You two can walk up the street.  It isn't that far.  I usually jog at least six or seven miles every morning.  This won't be that hard." Rick replies with the faintest hint of a snarl.

    "We walk more than that every day at the manor.  I measured it once.  The walk is about the same as walking from the attic to the basement by the sunroom stairs about three, four times."

    "Why would you do such a stupid thing as that?"  Sam's sarcasm was spot on as Rick pulled into his driveway.

    "It will be a few minutes.  You two can go on ahead and let Pete in before his party supplies get too hot.  I'm pretty sure that is his truck waiting back there."  Rick was already opening his door before getting our response.  I bet he is starting to get tired of Sam's act too.

    Sam and I leave the truck with our bags and begin walking back to my house.  I keep my mouth shut the entire time, not wanting to give Sam's anger another opening.  Besides, I don't want to repeat myself when with Pete.

    "Hey Chris, Sam!  How's it going?"  Pete rushes down the sidewalk to meet us about two houses down, a huge smile plastered on his face.  He immediately pulls me into one of his infamous bear hugs.  I hug back, as strongly as I can without dropping anything.  I might not be as tall as him, but I'm guessing I'm stronger than him now.

    "Whoa.  Easy fella.  Don't want to crush me now."  Pete releases me.  "Wow.  You've really packed it on dude.  I don't think I was packing that much on back in my high school days."

    "Well, I am benching 250 now, but really . . ."

    "No effing way.  I gotta say, it looks great on you.  I wish I stayed a great as you have.  And Sam," Pete turns to shake Sam's hand.  "Have you grown some more?  I swear I didn't have to crane my neck so much the last time I saw you."

    At 6' 3", they aren't that many people that are taller than Pete, outside basketball usually, so that is saying something.

    "I don't think so Mr. Dentry," Sam sullenly replies.  He hand falls limply back to his side.

    Pete gives me the "what's-the-matter" look.  I briefly nod towards the house and hope Pete gets the message.

    "So, the new garage looks good.  Two-car and everything.  But, it's gonna be hard to pull into it with the bedroom in the way." Pete starts walking back to the house with Sam and me following.  Good, I can get everything over with faster.

    "Yeah.  When we," I look over to Sam, "and I mean mostly me, decided to remodel the upstairs before selling, I thought that the new owners might want a garage.  Well, when my Dad decided to sell the manor . . ."

    "Wait.  You're giving up that place.  Don't tell me you are moving back here after the wedding?" A small grin began to spread again on Pete.  "You didn't mention that in the invite."

    "Dad wanted to keep it secret until his plans were settled."  I takes another look at Sam.  He's staring daggers at me.  Okay.

    "Anyway, the job was just far enough along to change the garage to a two-car with an apartment above.  The master suite will be torn down to provide access.  A new laundry room/mudroom/half-bath will be going in it's place."

    "Wow.  Can't wait to see that.  How about the upstairs?" Pete had grabbed the bags from his truck while I finally got to the front door. 

    "I still haven't been able to see much of it.  The contractors and Rick sent pics, but there's nothing better than seeing it in person."

    I turn the key in the last lock and open the door.

Pop: Chapter 7a

     "Just follow me out to the car," Rick said.

    The concourse isn't too crowded, nor the lot.  Rick actually managed to find a spot fairly close, relatively speaking.

    "Where's the other one?" Sam peeps up as we draw near.  "I thought you would have brung Chris's."

    Rick's black SUV with the UK blue stripes down the side was in view.  

    "Sam, you know we wouldn't have all fit in his car. "  I leave my car with Rick when I'm in New York.  Safer that way since my house didn't have a garage.  Definitely less room than Rick's.

    We get in, Sam takes the back while I'm shotgun.

    "Buckle up boys.  Traffic is going to be a mess, even this time of day."  Rick always likes to joke when he's driving.  I'm pretty sure his Dad let him learn how to drive in his deputy's patrol car, at least when no one could see them.  I know I saw Rick take it out once senior year, but I could never prove it. Rick gets a little hyper driving because of those lessons.

    "So, how come you're the one picking us up?" I ask after we get on the highway.  "I thought you had some legal work today you had to finish before the party."

    "Well, I was supposed to," Rick takes the exit to downtown before answering.

    "I was supposed to be co-chairing a deposition for an associate's case, but his client never showed up.  After an hour, we finally heard that that client had chosen a different firm, and that they needed to set up a different time and place for the deposition.  I suddenly had my entire afternoon free with nothing to do.  I had no more meetings or hearings set up for the rest of the week, and nothing to prep for until next.  So, I went back home and worked a bit before driving out to pick you two up."

    "Wait, you're a corporate attorney."  I start running through my phone for local news.  "Sure, you've done some civil work fo me, but you focus on business issues.  In fact, you firm rarely takes criminal cases unless it is a long-time client."     

    My fingers flew across the screen as I remembered something I saw when I did a quick check on Lexington news while waiting for Rick.

    "Leigh Ann Bagwell was arrested last night for public intoxication and attempted assault at a local bar.  She has been in a bitter divorce with Charles Mosley for the last few weeks due to their business partnership."  They co-own four restaurants in Lexington and Richmond, as well as the bar where she was arrested.

    "Privilege continues even after a client decides to change attorneys,"  Rick replies.  "I can neither confirm nor deny your answer."  

    He has 'that' smirk of his while answering.  Looks like Leigh Ann is in a lot of trouble for trying to pick a fight with her ex's new girlfriend, while drinking away her profits.

    "Hey," Sam suddenly shouts as we take the corner to our street.  "What's with the house!?"

    I guess he's talking about the new garage behind and to the left of the house, and not the large red truck parked in the driveway, but I could be wrong.

Pop: Chapter Seven

     "How much longer will we have to wait?" Sam mumbled behind me.  "We've been here over fifteen minutes."

    "The line isn't that long.  Just be thankful we only brought carry-ons.  The wait at the baggage claims is going to be much longer than this."

    Sam and I were finishing up the check in at Bluegrass Airport.  The flight was uneventful, and that is putting it mild.  Barely three-fourths of first class had been booked, so Sam was able to get a seat not next to me.  Otherwise, we would've wound up at each others' throats somewhere over Pennsylvania.  Just one of the perks of being heirs to a former multi-millionaire family.  Not enough cash for your own private jet, I don't think, but more than enough to fly with the best perks.

    The plane touched down just after two, only an hour delay in arriving.  Strong storms in the west had been playing havoc with the flight schedules.  Right now, we were finishing up a half hour of check in, before finding some place to eat at the airport before our ride arrives.  Which might be late as well due to the flight delay.

    "Where do want to eat?  There's not that big of a selection here, but I'm sure that..."

    "I don't think I want anything," Sam cuts in.  "Besides, I think the ride's here."

    "It can't be.  They said it would be almost four before..."

    I trail off again as I see fairly tall man in a dress shirt and jeans waving a cardboard sign with 'BURTONS' on it.  "Why this?" I think as I rush up to one of my best friends in the world, Rick Morris.

    "You know, you could've have called or texted me that you were going to pick us up." I grab up and hug him, crushing that stupid sign between us.  "I thought your wife was going to come instead."

    "Well, she wasn't feeling well, and I unexpectedly had the afternoon off, so I volunteered.  Whoa.  Sam.  Have you had another growth spurt?  That shirt is really tight on you."

    "Whatever.  I going to hit the head before we leave." With a quick turn, Sam began to walk down the hall to the men's room up ahead.

    "What's up with Sam?  He's usually a lot happier than this," Rick asks.

    "Dad finally told him he's selling the manor.  He's been grumpy ever since. Now, what's up with you and the missus?  I hope it's not serious."

    "Oh, her.  She might be pregnant again.  It's not yet two months, but she's pretty sure." Rick looks kind of glum himself at this.

    "Congratulations, I guess.  Please tell me there's not a problem."

    "Not with her, but with the house. We've only have a master and two bedrooms.  We don't have room for another kid.  For goodness sake, Will is going to have to sleep on the couch in my home office when he stays there tonight.  RJ was in no mood to share a room with his sister, even for just one night."

    "Couldn't you remodel?  It can't be that hard."

    "We've talked to some of your contractors already.  There's just no way to expand.  One contractor told me that RJ's room was probably just a remodeled linen closet already.  We thought the room was too small for a reason, but we never thought it was a closet. While it okay for now, there's not going to be enough room for RJ once he hits puberty, if not sooner.  My own dad got his at eleven."

    "So, you're moving?"

    "I'm not sure if we can afford it.  My wife was just starting to plan to go back to working full time when this came up."

    "Couldn't your father-in-law help out?  You two both work for his law office.  Surely, he can find a way to get more work your way."

    "Maybe not.  It's a little hard to get into right now, and Sam is on his way back.  Okay."

    I look the way Rick is facing.  Sam is pulling up his zipper, in public, a few yards away from the men's room door.  Yeah, it is a long zipper, but don't show off like that in public. 

    "You know," I say to Sam, "you're eighteen now.  You could get in trouble for doing that in public."

    The disdain in his eyes drill into me.

    "Whatever.  Can we go now?  Thanks for picking us up Mr. Morris."

    At least he's polite to others.