A/N: It fascinates me that, despite being years old, people are still read my first full-length story "Knots." Thank you for the over 200,000 views and many reviews since the story started. Along the way, readers have requested I go back and write some chapters I skipped because of the rush to finish. In no particular order, here are a few I wish I would have taken the time to have written.
Missing Chapter #1 – takes place after 'Every Hand's a Winner (part 2)'
Sig and Edgar arrived home around dinner time, an exhausted but happy dog in their wake.
The boys and their rescued dog had spent the day hiking the in foothills and hanging out at the docks. Daisy couldn't get enough of the exhilarating daytrip. She loved nothing more than being out in the fresh air and spending time with her family. Even better, the new sights and smells, especially the ripe fishiness of the bay, were an added bonus to the young lab's adventure. Needless to say, it was a day she'd never forget.
On the other hand, Sig and Edgar spent the day trying to forget. Neither one wanted to talk about what was most on their minds; Norman and his impending licking for stealing, drinking and driving drunk. Based solely on the severity of the offensives, both brothers knew Norman was in for one hell of a 'talk' with Dad's strap and, although each and every lick would be well-earned, Sig and Edgar still felt terrible for what was transpiring at home.
By the time they did reach home, Daisy was almost asleep on her four, overworked paws. The canine pulled herself into the house, grabbed a long, refreshing drink of water from her bowl and crashed right in the middle of the living room carpet.
Edgar's eyes were only for the refrigerator door. The List was gone. It seemed like something was missing from the kitchen landscape considering the damning piece of paper had hung there for so long. Its absence, although long-wished for by all three brothers, now seemed strange.
Looking out into the living room, Sig smiled at the dog, glad at least one of them truly enjoyed the excursion. Then, he dropped their supplies on the kitchen table and noticed a hastily scribbled note lying nearby.
Picking it up, he read it out loud, "Went to finalize repairs to the boat. Will pick up pizza five for dinner. Dad."
"Pizza?" Edgar questioned, turning his eyes from the refrigerator door.
Sig shrugged naturally, "Guess he doesn't feel like cooking." Or he feels guilty about punishing Norman and Edgar and I just get to reap the rewards of that guilt.
With Sig's attention in his direction, Edgar raised his hand and pointed to the empty spot on the refrigerator door. He kept his eyes locked on his oldest brother, waiting for some kind of comment or reaction. Perhaps, looking back, it was more comfort that he was looking for than anything else. Certainly, no one was surprised to see The List was now history.
Sig sighed, knowing exactly what Edgar was referring to. Still, he tried a little humor. "Are you asking me to pour you a glass of milk from the refrigerator?" he slyly asked.
"Nooo," was the snippy comeback accompanied with a disgusted eye roll. Empathetically, Edgar pointed to the blank space again.
"Did you think I would still be there?" Sig asked evenly, hand on his hip.
Edgar was taken off guard by the obvious question. "I…I don't know…honestly…"
"Frankly," Sig took his eyes off the door of the large appliance and began unpacking their bags, "I'm glad it's gone. In fact, I hope to never see another one again."
"But Norman…" Edgar protested, mistakenly taking Sig's gratitude as callousness towards their middle brother.
Empty drink bottles in hand, Sig stopped what he was doing. "Norman paid his dues, Edgar. He's square with the house now. As painful as I'm sure it was I am equally sure Norman's glad it's finally over."
"Is it?" Edgar questioned softly, "Cause where is he?"
Sig had spent the whole day purposely swallowing his concern for Norman that the effort carried over even now. With Edgar showing open apprehension, Sig's façade cracked a bit along with his emotionless demeanor.
Dropping the supplies on the table, Sig had the good sense to show his youngest brother just how concerned he REALLY was. "Come on," he said, rounding the table and putting a leading hand in between Edgar's shoulder blades, "You're right. Let's go check on him."
"But where is he?"
"No doubt sleeping it off in his room," Sig explained with utter confidence, "And if I know him…which, believe me, I do…he'll be longing for company when he wakes up." I wish Dad hadn't left him alone. Dear Lord, please let this punishment have gone 'My Way' today. Maybe that sounds conceded but I don't mean for it to; I just know in my heart Dad's way isn't necessarily the 'Right Way' for Norman…or Edgar.
The brothers quietly ascended the stairs, careful not to wake the snoring dog in the living room. The last thing Norman needed was one of Daisy's enthusiastic 'morning' greetings.
When they got to the closed bedroom door, Sig led the way, not even bothering to knock. Gently, he pushed the door open and, grabbing Edgar by the arm, proceeded into Norman's room.
As he suspected, Norman was sound asleep in his bed. Lying face down, his head turned to the side facing the door, the tough guy was clad in only his boxers. It was evident from the ruddiness of Norman's cheeks that he cried himself to sleep.
The knowledge broke Sig's heart and the stoic, 'he's getting what's coming to him' façade completely shattered this time.
"Hey," Sig whispered, kneeling by the side of Norman's bed. Lightly, he reached out and stroked his younger brother's face. "Hey, little brother," he spoke kindly, caressing Norman's stubbly chin.
Edgar took a seat on the end of the bed. Unfortunately, from that vantage point, the kid could see up Norman's undershorts to his exposed upper thighs and lower buttocks. From the window, the summer sun highlighted the flaming red skin under his brother's tartan boxers. In sympathy, Edgar winced, wishing there was something he could do to ease the hurt.
Slowly, Norman opened his eyes and came almost nose to nose with his elder brother. Instantly, the sting from his bottom registered in his brain and he groaned. "Hey, yourself," he said quickly, trying to cover up the noise. Carelessly, he flicked Sig's comforting hand away from his face, "Can't a guy take a nap around here?"
"Dad's coming home soon with pizza!" Sig withdrew his affection and offered as a weak excuse for checking on his brother.
Norman swallowed, his throat parched. "Rather have a beer."
"I think that's what got you in this predicament in the first place."
Norman snorted a small laugh.
"How are you?" Edgar cut in, effectively ending the banter between his two older brothers before it started. He had no patience for it today. He simply wanted to be reassured that Norman was OK and didn't suffer a severe whipping like he'd gotten last summer over the shed incident.
"Good, kid," Norman lifted his head and glanced over his shoulder to the end of the bed. He was glad Edgar had made his presence known before he said something he would have regretted. "Never better."
"Your backside looks like a candied apple from the Harvest Festival," Edgar countered, confronting his older brother with the facts.
"Jesus!" Norman said with extreme embarrassment, ignoring the pain and grabbing the nearest item to throw over his lower half. Sadly, all he could find was a thin t-shirt. "Thanks for pointing that out, Edgar," he added sarcastically, satisfied his backside was now completely covered and his modesty was restored.
"Does it hurt?" Sig asked, the absurd question slipping past his lips before he could stop himself.
Norman settled back down on his stomach and froze his brother with an icy stare. "How do you want me to answer that question?"
"Point taken."
Practically afraid to ask, Edgar muttered quickly, "How many?"
"How many what?" Norman pretended he had no idea what Edgar was asking.
"You know what I mean!" Edgar shook the bed with the heel of his foot against the box spring. He crossed his arms over his chest and huffed like only a teenager could. "Stop playing. How many licks of the strap did you get?"
"Enough to think twice about doing something so stupid ever again," Norman shot his little brother a look. "And shaking the bed DOESN'T help, kid!"
Instantly chagrined, Edgar uncrossed his arms and apologized. "Sorry. Do you want ice…or somethin'?" he innocently offered.
"I hear a bag of frozen pea works great for swelling," Sig teased lightheartedly.
"So help me God, you put a bag of frozen peas on my ass…" Norman grumbled.
"…You'll what?" Sig cocked his head to the left, challenging his brother in his weakened state, "Whatch'a gonna do, tough guy?"
Rising up on his elbows, Norman made a fist with his right hand and cracked his fingers, all while menacingly glaring at his older brother.
Sig, unimpressed by the display of testosterone, immediately noticed a sparkling silver item on Norman's right hand. "Oh…My…God!" he exclaimed with such passion and surprise that it caught Edgar's attention.
"What?" the kid asked, unsure if he should be curious or alarmed.
Sig's eyes were still locked onto the ring on Norman's finger. Reactively, he reached out and grasped Norman's hand with a strong grip, pulling the ring over for closer scrutiny.
Initially, Norman resisted being manhandled until he himself remembered what was on his finger. Suddenly, sweet memories came flooding back to him. Proudly, he allowed his brother to inspect his new ring.
"What is it?" Edgar probed, getting up from the end of the bed and drawing nearer to his brothers at the head of the bed. While kneeling on the floor, he could see Sig studying something on Norman's hand.
"You got it?" Sig asked, pleasantly stunned as he turned Norman's hand to get a better look at the engraving.
Norman could sense the relief in Sig's reaction. So you were more worried about this issue than me? Somehow, that makes me love you all the more. Silently, a little overcome with emotion, Norman just nodded.
"Got what?" Edgar persistently asked, crawling over next to Sig.
Sig looked up into the green eyes of his littlest brother. "See for yourself," he commanded, holding out Norman's hand so the sun could beam off the bright, silver-colored metal.
The blue stone glistened around the room, sending prisms of light shooting in all directions.
"Ohhhhh…." Edgar exclaimed in a hushed voice. Almost reverently, he reached out with a single finger to touch the treasured ring. "Sig…it's just like yours…almost…" the young teen stated.
"Very similar," Norman took back his hand, "Right down to the engraving on the inside." Easily, he slid the ring off his finger and handed it over to Edgar. "Only difference is the type of gold."
"It's gold?" Edgar looked doubtfully at the new ring in his hand.
"White gold," Sig explained, a little surprised he just figured that out himself. Silently, he slipped off his own ring and handed it over to Edgar. "Mine is yellow gold."
Edgar held both rings in the open palm of his hand like Baoding balls.
"See the difference?" Sig asked, "I mean, other than the different years engraved on the outside?"
"Yeah," Edgar whispered, entranced by the two rings side by side. Now, both his brothers had their special rings and, although he was happy for them, he had to wonder if he'd ever achieve such a studious goal. "Why is one white and the other one yellow?"
"Dad thought…" Norman suppressed an intake of air as he shifted and, in the process, irritated the already inflamed flesh on his bum, "…he thought I'd like something a little different than Sig's."
Distracted, Edgar was easily satisfied with the answer.
Sig, meanwhile, glanced secretively back at Norman. "Dad?" he mouthed silently. "Dad got you the ring?" When he thought about it, Sig had always given more credence to his mother ordering the ring before her death than his father remembering to take care of the task himself.
"Yes," Norman mouthed back, his eyes wide with over-exaggerated shock to communicate with Sig that he was just as surprised as Sig was their father remembered such a thoughtful token.
Then, both brothers stared hard at each other, reading each other's thoughts.
"You were right…" You were right about giving Dad another chance. Norman bobbed his head slightly in Sig's direction. "Dad DOES love me," he mouthed perfectly without making a single sound.
Sig almost gave a smug smile but found he didn't have the heart to tease at such a raw, unabashed moment. What was I so worried about?
"Right about what?" Edgar asked, realizing his brothers were having a clandestine conversation while his attention was placed elsewhere.
"Oh," Sig gave Norman one long, lasting look before turning his focus back to Edgar, "Norman's just stating the obvious…again." For that, Sig earned a moderately painful slap to the back of the head.
Before long, all three brothers were curled up in Norman's bed, eating pizza and talking about their plans for the rest of the summer.
THE END
A/N 2 - If there is enough interest in this idea….Next edition ~ an extension of Sig and Norman's 'talk' the morning after the party at the lake.