Chapter 25: Kiddie City
Thursday morning and early afternoon passed by in a pleasant blur. While Laura went to the office to work on month end financials, Remington traveled to St. Costello's Monastery to visit with the new Abbot, the former Brother Bartholomew, the monk with whom he and Laura had engaged in a titillating game of charades once upon a time. The monastery's vow of silence still fully in place, the trip provided an amusing opportunity to once again engage in pseudo sign language. A successful endeavor, however, as Remington had departed the monastery with seven bottles of the vineyard's award winning cabernet: two bottles each for Zeth, Christos and, of course, Marcos and Elena; the final bottle to be hidden away until it would make its appearance during a worthy celebration upcoming in a few scant weeks.
A stop by an antique store Remington knew of that carried vintage pieces of jewelry netted him an intricately designed copper wire bracelet which was bedecked tastefully with aquamarines the very color of the Aegean Sea next to which Melina had grown up. A glance at his watch assured him he had time to stop by a little store front on the eastern fringes of LA, known by only those in the know. The owner, Bertoldo Armandi had created Laura's engagement ring a year prior, and was in the process of forging three new pieces, from drawings rendered by Remington's own hand, for the very same woman. Remington departed pleased with the project, even more so with the assurance from Armandi the pieces would be ready to pick up the Friday prior to Christmas.
He found himself whistling a happy little tune as he strolled back to the car. Truly heady stuff, it is, he acknowledged to himself. The first three Christmases that Laura was in his life had left him continually flummoxed, as he tried to find the balance between personal enough to express her importance in his life, but not too personal so as to send her, or he, running by a meaning conveyed that neither were yet ready to admit to. Now, however? With no limitations, his choices were endless and he couldn't help but spoil her a bit, something which she would either adore or find annoying to no end. One never knows with my Mrs. Steele, he laughed quietly to himself.
A final stop at his tailor to check on one last gift for her, and he pointed the Auburn in the direction of the office. At Laura's insistence, the bottles of wine and the bracelet for Melina were transferred to the trunk of the limousine. It was practical, she'd pointed out. No need to fight for parking, a trunk large enough to transport their purchases, and, if need be, a back seat in which she could stretch out her leg after physical therapy. After a pleasant lunch at the pub near the Rossmore, they were on their way to finish this leg of the Christmas shopping.
Their trip to the toy store was a learning experience for Remington. The toy stores of his childhood, through whose windows he'd peek and doors he'd never pass, were quaint little shops nestled among other stores in the various villages he'd visited for a time. In fact, the store Laura had visited in Vail the Christmas prior reminded him much of those he was familiar with. But this Kiddie City that Laura had hauled him off to rivaled the size of a large warehouse. Rows upon rows of toys, of all kinds… quite the dazzling array.
Laura found herself easily distracted as she watched her husband take in the store around him. She laughed out loud when he mumbled under his breath after he found toys he recalled seeing advertisements for in his childhood remanded to the vintage toy section: Slinky dogs, pull-a-tunes and Tinker Toys, just to name a few. He glared at her apparent amusement, before a smug smile replaced his frown.
"You do realize, Mrs. Steele, that such toys were likely part of your own childhood given you are but three years younger than myself." If he'd thought to irritate her, which he had hoped to do, he was wrong. She'd simply patted him on the arm, then laughed as she continued down the aisle.
She enjoyed watching his simple awe at the vast variety of toys offered for children of all ages, even as her heart ached a little when she recalled his story about the sled the Christmas prior and realized he'd likely not had many toys during his childhood. That assumption bore out as he assisted her in picking out toys for his brother's children. The largest set of Lego's, plus the Lego Airport and transformers for Zeth's seven-year-old twin sons, Colin and Cole; Super Hair Barbie, Skipper Sport and a half dozen outfits for each for Zeth's Kara and Christos's Addie and Bronte, as well as the Barbie Ferrari for Kara and Addie and the Pink Volkswagen for Bronte; Christos's Coleen and Daphne and Zeth's Alecia and Alexia a Cabbage Patch Doll and Pound Puppy each; and for the youngest two, a Change-A-Tune-Carousel and Turtle Xylophone. Then, given Laurie Beth would be accompanying them on Saturday while they continued Christmas shopping, her husband fairly emptied out the My Little Pony section, buying a half dozen different ponies for the little girl as well as a My Little Pony lunchbox and Satin Slipper Shop. With two carts filled to the brim and her husband acting like a kid in a candy shop, she firmly directed him towards the registers.
"That's it," she warned him, wagging her finger at him when he tried to add yet more toys to their carts, "When we have children you are forbidden to take them to the toy store!"
"Oh, why is that?" he asked, with a tug to his ear even as his eyes danced with amusement.
"One toy. It is customary to buy one toy for each child of the immediate family. If this is your idea of moderation for nieces and nephews, I don't even want to hazard a guess what it means for a child of your own." Stepping behind her, he lay his hand on the small of her back, brushing the spot with his thumb, smiling when he felt the shiver travel up her spine.
"Perhaps I mean to spoil them as I intend to spoil their Mommy, eh?" he inquired, bussing her on the shoulder before he stepped away. He glanced at her flushed skin and wagged his brows at her.
"Remington, moderation teaches appreciation; a child earning what they want teaches them the value of a dollar and personal responsibility," she lectured.
"And Mommy will see to it they have that, where as their Da—"
"Has this one Christmas to spoil the children in his life, but after this year will walk the line," she interrupted.
"Aw," he grumbled, "But—"
"No 'buts,' buster." She shook her head and laughed. She simply couldn't maintain the stern façade when he was clearly having the time of his life. It was, to her, as though he was restoring a small part of his childhood that he'd been denied. If a little retail therapy gave him new, lasting, joyous memories of Christmas, far be it from her to stand in his way.
However, the shopping spree did present its challenges. They were provided an estimate of an hour and a half for the wrapping to be finished, whereas her physical therapy was schedule to start in an hour, at a facility thirty minutes away. In the end, they left Fred with one of their personal credit cards, the Androkus's address and instructions to ship all the gifts – minus Laurie Beth's - once they were ready, then to pick them up at physical therapy afterwards. In the meantime, they hailed a cab to deliver them to Laura's appointment on time.
It took all of Remington's skill and charm to placate a mercurial Laura that evening. Her ankle had been manipulated and worked enough that she was in considerable pain, but remained stubbornly adamant that she would not rely on painkillers to get her through and no amount of charm would get her to relent. A hot bath and a double dose of Tylenol lessened the pain to a dull roar, allowing her to sleep fitfully throughout the night. Yet, before the deplorable antics of Norm and Bud could wake him, Laura's irritable ramblings from the bathroom did. Having learned his lesson the night prior, he retrieved the Tylenol, handed her four tablets and a glass of water, before throwing on his robe and going downstairs to start the coffee and tea, giving her wide berth. When she came down for her coffee, he bussed her on the cheek then exchanged places with her, heading upstairs to prepare for work.
Having left the Auburn at Century Towers the day prior, any ideas of delaying going into the office were nullified immediately. Hence, with a great deal of trepidation and a vow to be silent, he climbed into the passenger seat. As was typical of her driving when in a foul mood, Laura punished the road – and those sharing the road around her. Unfortunately, Remington made the grave mistake of unconsciously shaking his head as he climbed out of the car.
"What!?" she snapped. He held up his hands in apology then waited for her to round the car before lying his hand on the small of her back. When she immediately shook him off, his feet stalled long enough for him to close his eyes and scrub at his face. Letting out a long, slow breath he prayed for patience before falling into step behind her. He'd half a mind to turn on his heel, get in the Auburn and leave early for his ten o'clock appointment with Charles Lufkin of Lufkin Electronics. However, an unsuspecting Mildred awaited the arrival of his volatile wife and he felt it incumbent upon himself to give her fair warning to walk lightly on the day, if he were able.
Thankfully, for Mildred's sake, Laura sailed through the reception area without so much as a good morning, slamming her office door behind her. Remington lifted his face to the ceiling and scrubbed at his chin, before expelling yet another frustrated breath.
"What've you done now, Boss?" Mildred asked, eyeing him suspiciously.
"Apparently in the last eighteen hours, my mere presence has been enough to incite her displeasure," he shrugged, leaning down to buss their trusted secretary on the cheek. "Good morning, darling," he greeted her. She patted him on the cheek absently while casting him a dubious look.
"You've done nothing? The last time I saw her that keyed up was when you ran off to marry that hooker," she observed. Remington winced at the reminder.
"Bad afternoon at physical therapy and she refuses to take anything for the discomfort," he corrected. "You may want to consider lying low until this blows over," he advised with two raps of his knuckles on her desk. "I'm off. Should Mrs. Steele inquire, please remind her I'll see her late this evening. I've an appointment this morning with Lufkin, the Chamber of Commerce luncheon and an appointment with …" he struggled to recall.
"Glazer," Mildred provided.
"Yes, yes. Glazer this afternoon. She can reach me, if needed, on the car phone. Remember, darling, stay low." With those last words of advice, he departed the office.