Authors: Etienne
“Your mama was a musician,” she said.
“She was?” Robbie said.
“When she was younger. That’s how she went to college—on a music scholarship. She would probably have started teaching you about now.”
“Lucinda told us that Robbie’s mother had won a scholarship,” I said, “but she didn’t say what kind.”
“She was in the band all through high school,” Mrs. Pickens said, “and after she got her degree, she taught music at the elementary-school level.”
“I guess that’s where Robbie gets it from,” I said, and I went on to tell her about Robbie playing a hymn by ear at Tom’s house.
Later, as the caregiver walked with us to the truck, I gave her my card and extracted a promise that she would call us if there was a need that could not be met with available resources.
In the truck, Robbie asked, “Why was Granny crying?”
“Those were tears of happiness,” I said. “Sometimes people, especially ladies, cry when they’re really happy.”
“Oh.”
Lucinda and the boys—“the boys” now included the twins’ boyfriends—stopped by that night, and we exchanged gifts. I told her about the taxes, and she promised to keep an ear to the ground and let us know anything she heard. “I’m sorry, George,” she said, “but nobody had any idea her taxes were delinquent.”
“Fortunately,” I said, “it was a matter of public record, and I was able to discover the problem and deal with it.”
“What would have happened?” Zeb said.
“Eventually, her house would have been auctioned off to the highest bidder,” I said, “and she would have been forced to find another place to live.”
Changing the subject, I asked the boys about their second year of college and got an enthusiastic report. The twins had, as predicted, transferred to Florida State College at Jacksonville in the fall. Although it had recently become a four-year college and changed its name to Florida State College at Jacksonville, most locals still referred to it as FCCJ. In fact, the school had originally been named Florida Junior College, and for years after its name was changed to Florida Community College at Jacksonville, locals continued to refer to it as FJC.
“If you like college that much,” I said, “maybe you ought to take a few courses at UNF after you finish with FSCJ.”
“UNF?” Lucinda said.
“The University of North Florida,” I said. “They could probably take at least one course each term. It would take a few years, but they could get their four-year degrees that way.”
“Yeah,” Mike said, “their employers might allow them to have the time, and some larger companies have tuition-reimbursement programs.”
“We’ll look into it,” Zeke said.
“But the first thing we’re going to do,” Zeb said, “is buy a truck and trailer and start doing some serious lawn care and landscaping work.”
“Yeah,” Zeke said. “We haven’t forgotten all that stuff that Steve and Roger showed us.”
“What kind of truck are you thinking about?” I said. Mike read my mind and gave me a thumbs-up.
“One like theirs,” Zeb said. “Just like yours, in other words.”
“What will you do with the car?” I said.
“We were gonna give it to Ma,” he said, “but she went and traded her old truck in on a new car.”
“On the other hand,” Zeke said, “we really need two cars some of the time, so we’ll just hang on to it.”
“In that case,” I said, “we’ve got a deal for you. I have a city car now, and Mike and I don’t need two personal vehicles. With Thor and Robbie, we’ve just about outgrown my truck, and we’re planning to trade his car and my truck in on an Explorer or something similar. You can buy the truck from us the same way you bought the car, if you want to.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do,” Zeke said. “Thanks.”
Both of them grabbed us and hugged us tightly. Lucinda looked more than a little bit overwhelmed, and said, “Have you boys actually finished paying for the car yet?”
“Yes, Ma’am,” Zeb said.
“And we have enough in the bank to pay cash for the truck,” Zeke said.
“Good,” she said. “I just don’t want you to overdo it.”
Robbie had conked out during the conversation, so Mike picked him up and carried him to his room. Fortunately he was already wearing his winter pajamas. When Mike returned, he said, “He’s down for the count.”
“That’s for sure,” I said.
“George,” Zeke said, “how much do you think one of those little trailers will cost?”
“The kind that Steve and Roger use to haul their equipment around?”
“Yeah, that kind.”
“You can probably pick one up used for less than two thousand,” I said.
“There you go,” Mike said. “I see used riding mowers for sale all the time at reasonable prices, so your initial equipment outlay won’t be huge.”
“As soon as school is out,” I said, “and you guys get settled in your summer jobs, we’ll see if we can help you find some equipment for a reasonable amount.”
“You’d better start saving your money now,” Mike said.
“Oh, we’ve been doing that ever since Steve and Roger showed us how easy it is to make money doing what they do,” Zeb said.
“And,” Zeke said, “we saved all the money we got from that study of twins we participated in down in Gainesville at the University of Florida.”
“It’s easy,” I said, “but don’t forget that Roger’s father is a big-time real estate developer, and he helped them make some contacts.”
“Right,” Mike said. “We don’t know anybody like that in Jacksonville, so you’ll have to start slowly and grow your business.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that,” I said. “By the way, how is it that McDonald’s is able to do without both of you at Christmas?”
“We did a lot of trading days off with other manager-trainees,” Zeke said.
“Yeah,” Zeb said. “We can’t do it every year, just every couple of years.”
“And Tom was good enough to allow Josh to take Christmas off from the choir,” Zeke said, “so it worked out well.”
“Yeah,” Norm said. “What it means is that neither Zeb nor Zeke will have a day off for the next month.”
“Josh,” Mike said, “you and Norm have been mighty quiet through all of this.”
“I think we’re both a little overwhelmed,” Josh said. “Neither one of us comes from what you would call a loving family.”
“Yeah,” Norm said, “it’s almost like acquiring a new mom all of a sudden.”
“That’s good,” I said, “because Lucinda has told us that she now has four sons instead of two.”
“Lucinda,” Mike said, “does anybody know what happened to Robbie’s paternal grandparents?”
“I don’t think so,” she said. “They moved away from the area long before his mother moved back here. Nobody seems to know where they went or why. Does it matter?”
“Martha told me that her department searched for other relatives,” I said, “but they didn’t find any. On the other hand, I doubt they had the budget to hire investigators, so the search may have been merely perfunctory. As Lucinda said, does it matter?”
“It might matter to Robbie one day when he’s older,” Mike said.
“Yeah,” I said, “and it might matter to us if they were to find out about Robbie and the adoption.”
“You mean they could contest it?” she said.
“They could try,” I said, “and if they got a judge like the one we had when we adopted him, it could be bad.”
“Hopefully that won’t happen,” Mike said.
“True,” I said, “but it’s something we have to think about.”
The Hawkins extended family left around eleven, and we settled down on the sofa, watching the fire and finishing our wine until I finally said, “I think it’s time for Santa to do his thing.”
“Right behind you.”
We went downstairs to the storeroom, where we had hidden a few things for Robbie to find under the tree in the morning. We set everything in place, damped the fire, and turned out the lights. Thor was already curled up in his bed, which was now in Robbie’s room, and Mike and I crawled under the covers and slept, only to be awakened the next morning by an excited Robbie, who was bouncing up and down on the bed between us.
“Wake up, wake up,” he said. “Santa’s been here. Come see.”
“Okay,” I said, “but let me go to the bathroom first.”
I swatted Mike on the butt and said, “Rise and shine.” Then I grabbed a heavy bathrobe, stuck my feet into slippers, and took care of business.
In the great room, Robbie was beside himself. “Look, Dad,” he said, “it’s Thomas the Tank Engine. A whole set of tracks and everything.”
“Cool,” I said, ruffling his hair. “Why don’t you set it up while I go make some coffee?”
He needed no encouragement, and by the time Mike appeared on the scene, Robbie had assembled an elaborate and somewhat oddly shaped arrangement of track. We settled down on the sofa with our coffee, watching Robbie and enjoying his excitement. Finally we started opening other gifts, handing Robbie his packages as they turned up. Everyone on my staff had bought something for him, as had Chief and Mrs. Bridges.
Mike and I had a leisurely breakfast, but Robbie was too excited to eat, so we settled for letting him take a slice of toast to the area around the tree. We carried our coffee to the great room and watched him for a while. Finally, I said, “Robbie, you forgot about one stocking hanging on the mantle, didn’t you?”
“I did?” he said, and he went to look. After a moment, he added, “There’s one here with Thor’s name on it.”
“Why don’t you see what’s in it and give it to Thor?” Mike said.
He dug a couple of rawhide treats and other items from the stocking and handed them to Thor, who immediately carried everything off to one corner of the room and began working on the rawhide bone.
Mike and I went to our bedroom and pulled on thermal underwear before slipping into our warm-up suits. Then I dragged a reluctant little boy away from his toys, dressed him as warmly as we were, and we headed up the mountain, Thor pulling on his leash, as usual. It was a wonderfully crisp day, and we enjoyed every minute of our walk.
In the cabin, the three of us took a long, hot shower together as we sometimes did, after which we all got dressed and ready to go to the Bridges’s for Christmas. Sarah and the chief had persuaded both of their sons to bring their families to the mountains for Christmas, and the presence of six adults and five children under the age of twelve meant they had a full house.
As we drove up the road to their house, Mike said, “Tell me again how well you know the sons?”
“I’ve known them all my life,” I said, “and used to see them often when we were kids because the chief and my dad were best friends. Since college we’ve gone our separate ways, and today they’re more like distant cousins I see once in a while by accident, but never on purpose.”
“That makes sense, I guess.”
We pulled up in the driveway, gathered our packages, and went to the door. The chief, wearing a Santa Claus hat, ushered us in and directed us to the living room. It took a while to get all of the introductions taken care of, but eventually Robbie was down in the basement happily playing with the Bridges’s grandchildren, and we were in the living room enjoying the fire and the conversation.
Later, as we drove to the cabin complaining about having eaten too much, it began to snow. By the time we’d parked the truck in the garage and gone up to the great room, it was coming down quite heavily.
“This is so cool,” Mike said. “A white Christmas after all.”
Robbie was yawning, so I said, “Time for a nap, big guy.”
We went to his room and got him settled down in bed with his animals. In the great room, Mike had moved a chair around so he could sit and watch the snow falling, and he said, “He certainly wasn’t impressed by the snow.”
“Think about it. He grew up in these mountains, so it’s not a novelty for him.”
I found two glasses and poured us each some Shiraz. Taking the glasses, I pulled a chair up beside Mike, and we sat for a long time, sipping the wine and watching Mother Nature at work. I went to the kitchen for refills, and the lights went out. I looked at my watch, and a couple of minutes later, I heard the muffled sound of a motor coming from outside, and the lights came back to life, followed by the ringing of the telephone. I answered from the wall phone in the kitchen.
“Did your lights go out?” a familiar voice said.
“For a few minutes,” I said. “Then the generator kicked in.”
“I’d forgotten about that.”
“We installed it last year. I guess I must have forgotten to show it to you the last time you were here.”
“How does it work?”
“Why don’t you drive over here and have a look? The gate is closed, but the code is still the same.”
“We’ll do just that,” he said, and hung up.
I opened another bottle and set three clean glasses on the counter.
“Who was that on the phone?” Mike said as I handed him his glass.
“The chief. He wanted to know if our power was out. I told him it was for a few minutes until the generator kicked in. He’s coming over to see how that works.”
Ten minutes later, the gate control beeped, which was a signal that the gate had been opened. Shortly after that, I heard or rather felt through the floor the vibrations of three grown men hurrying up the steps to the deck, so I went to open the door for them. The three Bridges entered the room, and I took their coats. Scott, the eldest son, was a younger version of his dad, but Henry Jr. was a different matter. Sarah had told me more than once that he resembled her father, whom I had never met.
“Nice place, George,” Scott said.
“Thanks, we like it. Let me show you around.”
After a quick tour, I led them outside so they could see the generator in its shed. In the great room, Mike had turned our chairs around to face the room, and our visitors took the sofa. We discussed the relative merits of having a generator and its cost. They were surprised to learn that they had overestimated the probable cost of the system by several thousand dollars. The lights flickered off for a moment and then came back on.
“What was that?” the chief said.
“I believe that means that power has been restored and the generator has shut down,” I said. “Why don’t you check with Sarah?”
He went to the kitchen and returned a few minutes later. “Our power is back on,” he said.