Chapter 7: Trampoline
VII.
Party Day: We'd spent the week cleaning, blowing eggs, boiling eggs, filling eggs, hiding eggs, cleaning up the yard, and prepping food. We'd invited probably 50 kids and their families. And a few brave folks without kids. It was a beautiful day.
I try to circulate near the start of a party, because inevitably I'm policing the trampoline by halfway through. It's just that we have a finite number of ice bags, and the kids all want to be on it at once, and, well, you get the picture. The circulating is something I make myself do, something I had to learn like a foreign language, and it's way too easy to get Steps One through Three right and then drop out. Don't know what the hell that is. Just have to bring myself back. I was just bringing myself back when I overheard:
"Santana, you said this was a party. There's just little kids and old people here." Let me guess, this is Dave?
"Dave, it's the middle of the afternoon. Go dye Easter eggs or something. I'll see if there's any alcohol."
"Oh my God! They have Ukrainian egg dyeing! I love that stuff, my grandma always..."
"Karofsky! Shut up."
I put my welcome face on and welcomed them. Step One.
I pointed them to the food and drinks. Step Two. Then I dropped out. Dangit. Gotta work on that. Someone touched my elbow.
"Brittany! Welcome!" I ran through my spiel.
"I love your house," she said. "Who are in all these pictures?" she asked. Nobody'd asked me about them in a long time.
"Well, godkids, birthsiblings, birthparents, grandparents, cousins." Pointing at each group.
"You have a really big family."
"It blew us away how fast it grew once we did one open adoption. Then we did another one."
"Are you going to adopt more?"
"Nuh! Two's plenty."
I noticed her eyes flick up over my shoulder. I turned and saw Santana. Her brow was scrunched up. Brittany made an effort at an open smile. Dave was completely involved with his Ukrainian egg dyeing and missed the look between them. Not that he'd be likely to have noticed anyway; dude is a total homo.
"I'm confused by you two," I said.
"Yeah, me too."
"But things were really different when I was in high school. I gotta police the trampoline."
"You have a trampoline? Where?"
I led her through to the back door. Just as we were about to go through it, I heard a sudden cry. "Hang on," I said. I went back to the fridge to get an ice bag out of the freezer. "I'm late, I guess."
Sure enough, there were at least a dozen kids on the trampoline, ages four to fourteen probably, mostly boys. One of the smaller ones was crumpled up in the middle, wailing, and the others were surrounding him, some still jumping, some not. I had to use my "boss dog" voice. "Okay, everybody off the trampoline! Get in a line! Go two at a time for one minute!" I handed an ice bag to the injured party.
"Am I too old to jump?" said Brittany.
"Of course not, but you still have to wait in line," I said, smiling. "You're tall, though, maybe you should go by yourself." I started timing the rascals. When it was Brittany's turn, a pair of legs appeared next to where I was sitting on the deck. Santana's legs. Santana's eyes were on Brittany. Uh-huh.
"Dave's enjoying himself?" I said.
"Now that Ike's dad is advising him, yeah."
"Which one?"
She looked at me.
"I'm confused by you two," I said.
I gave the word that Brittany's turn was over. She exited the trampoline, saw us, and walked over. "Hi," she said.
"Hi," said Santana.
"Did you see their pictures? Of their whole family?"
"No?"
"You should." Brittany got back in line and started whispering with one of the little girls.
"Why should I?" Santana said to me, watching the kids jumping.
"She seemed impressed with how big our family is. We have a lot of godkids, birthsiblings, birthparents, cousins, grandparents and so on."
"Did he just do a full layout? That one's yours, right?"
"Yeah he did. He's always been unbelievably physically capable. Not so much academically or socially."
"That must be... difficult."
"For him, mostly."
Dave walked up with an exquisitely decorated egg. I was impressed. He has really chunky hands. "Santana, look!"
"Very nice, David. Why don't you go back and make it an even dozen?" Santana, semi-sweet.
Dave looked up in time to see that her eyes were on Brittany jumping on the trampoline. "Hey, uh, I gotta pick up some stuff for my dad. Do you think you could get a ride home?"
"Sure, Dave, see ya." Still looking at Brittany.
"Thanks," he said to me.
"I'm sorry you have to go so soon. Glad you could join us," I said. "Santana, could you time the kids for a minute or two? They go two at a time for one minute. Thanks." I handed her my iPod and escorted him out. We ran into my girl on the way. I introduced her as my partner. Sweat broke out on his face.
"Sorry, I gotta go," he said.
"You made a beautiful egg," said my girl.
"Thanks." He blushed, then made himself scarce.
"Santana's date," I said.
"I see."
I went back out. "Santana, you've been letting Brittany jump more than her share. Kids are really sensitive to adults not following the rules." I took my iPod back. Wait. I pulled the earphones from my watch fob pocket and plugged them in. Feeling a meddle coming on.
"Have a listen." I played some of the Neville Brothers' "Tell It Like It Is" for her.
"Are you trying to say something, cuz I have a boyfriend."
I gave her my crooked smile and rolled my eyes. "Don't be ashamed, let your conscience be your guide," I quoted from the song. Yeah, I get a little corny when I drink hard lemonade in the afternoon. Really. Just one.
