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.