A/N: Thanks for the positive feedback! As usual standard disclaimers apply. This chapter will be revolving around probably one of Randy's worst days, sickness wise.
Chapter 2: Tim's P.O.V.
I wiped a little chip grease from the corner or my mouth on my sleeve. I glanced at my watch. Jill would be home soon, meaning I might have to make some sort of attempt to clean up.
I stood up, scratched like a man should scratch, and put my dirty dishes into the sink and left my potato chip bag on the coffee table. I could always blame it on Mark. He always looks like he's done something wrong. Well, now that the cleaning's done.......I sighed. Not much to do. My eyes darted over to the garage. Well, now. The hotrod could always use some extra attention.
Two steps from the garage with my hand on the doorknob I heard the front door open and close in succession. I winced. Crap.
"I'm home," Jill called.
I walked over to the counter where Jill met me, smiling cheerfully. I kissed her briefly on the lips.
"Guess who I ran into today?" Jill asked looking excited.
I groaned. When she asks me that kind of a question she's usually run into somebody I hate, who has a husband, which means I have to go to dinner with Mr. and Mrs. Pain in the Ass.
"Don't groan Tim. You like this person." Jill laughed a little bit.
"You ran into Tony, my car guy?" My heart soars with hope. Ah, Tony. He'd make a lovely dinner guest.
Jill smacked my chest lightly and smiled. "No.....Helen Manchester."
Where had I heard the name before?
"From college. She was in my dorm?"
Hmmmm....Helen Manchester. Suddenly a face registered with the name. Oh God no.
"Helen Manchester, huh?" I scratched my chin. "She still have the nails on a chalkboard voice and sweating problem?"
"Her voice is not that bad and she never had a sweating problem!" Jill frowned.
"Then how come you never let her borrow any of your clothes? Hm. That's right. You were afraid that if you did you'd have swimming pools under your arms." Ha ha, I'd like to see her weasel her way out of that one.
Jill was silent for a minute. She frowned. "Well....we weren't the same size. Helen was much bigger than I was." I raised an eyebrow and she smacked me again. "Anyway that doesn't matter. We're having dinner with her and her husband tomorrow night at her house."
Nononononononononono!
"Sorry Jill, can't. I have that thing....that uh....that thing....yeah." Damn. I wish I could lie with a straight face like Brad can.
"Oh." Jill said patronizingly. "I must have forgotten this 'thing.' Refresh my memory Tim." She crossed her arms and gave me the Stare of Doom.
"The uh, uh..." My mind raced. I needed something. Anything. I spotted Randy grabbing a soda out of the fridge. "Parent's Night," I blurted out.
Ha ha, you're better than Einstein Tim.
"That's tomorrow?" Jill asked suspiciously.
I nodded vigorously.
"Randy? Is Parent's Night tomorrow?" Jill peered around the corner.
"Personally, I'm hurt that you don't believe me." I crossed my arms. Jill snickered.
"Yeah, Mom. One of you guys has to go. Brad's night is Wednesday." Randy slammed the fridge closed and popped open a soda. He yawned once before taking a small sip.
Jill was beaten.
"Well, I guess I can go over to the Manchester's on my own tomorrow. I can't fit it in any other night." Jill frowned grumpily. "I wanted you to meet her husband Jeff."
"I still can't get over the fact that somebody married that woman. He must carry around an emergency Speed Stick wherever he goes." I grinned.
"Stop!" Jill let a small smile slip out and I knew she wasn't too upset. "Look, just make sure to visit Randy's algebra teacher. Randy raves about the guy."
I looked over at Randy who was sitting on the counter, drinking his soda. He nodded and smiled.
"Check, great math teacher." I'd never really enjoyed Parent's Night but anything had to be better than dinner with one of Jill's old college buddies.
"And see Randy's Latin teacher. She says he has an attitude problem." Jill raised an eyebrow at Randy.
Randy's big blue eyes widened and he looked completely innocent. Made me want to rush right up there and hug him. He looked at least five years younger.
"I don't know what she's talking about Mom. I do all my work, and study quietly when I have free time." Randy looked at Jill pitifully.
Jill laughed and went upstairs calling for Brad. Randy smiled. He knew the orphan boy look of his worked effectively in one of two ways. Either Jill felt sympathy for him and made him a nice plate of cookies, or she was amused and forgot the whole situation all together. Either way, Randy is a full blooded Taylor man.
"Okay. Anything else I should know?" I asked, helping Randy turn the conversation in anther direction.
"Yeah. Don't stand too close to my biology teacher. He spits when he talks." Randy snickered and downed the last of his soda.
"Right. Donald Duck teaches bio." I made a mental note. Randy laughed a little bit.
"And make sure and tell my English teacher you're married. She's divorced and desperate. She started hitting on Janitor George last week."
I arched an eyebrow. "The silent bald guy with no teeth?"
Randy nodded. "That's the one." He yawned and stretched a little bit.
I frowned. "You sick or something, Randy?" I felt a little bad for being so over protective but Randy was usually bright and full of life.
He shook his head as he yawned again. "Just a little beat. Worked hard in gym class. We had football."
I grunted loudly in approval. "You should play for the school," I suggested. I could just see it now. Randy running down the field, ball safely nestled in his arms, throwing off a few defenders, faking left, going right, oh, touchdown!
"I can't," Randy said flatly, breaking me out of my trance. "I played last year and my asthma got in the way. Remember?"
I grunted in remembrance. That was a pretty crappy season, ending with Randy being carted off the field to the emergency room with an asthma attack. It was one of the scariest moments of my life.
"Anyway, Coach said the same thing." Randy frowned. "I would like to play...." He trailed off.
I walked over and put a hand on his shoulder sympathetically. He liked football almost as much as Brad liked soccer. It's hard to give up something you love for a health reason. And Randy had always been the one to have to do that. He'd been able to play pee-wee football for awhile, where nobody really got tackled hard but as he moved up it became increasingly difficult for him to play the sport he loved and breathe at the same time. I'd always felt bad for Randy in that respect. He had to hate being so sick all the time.
Randy looked up into my eyes and saw the concern in them or something, because he shook his head a little bit. "It's okay. I've got other stuff to do anyway. "I have a Youth Alliance for the Earth meeting Friday." He smiled. "I get to go on a camping trip this year."
"Hey, that'll be cool! I can let you use my canteen with the radio and my Swiss army knife, and my flashlight/radio/black and white TV/compass." I smiled brightly.
"The whole purpose of the thing is to rough it. I might as well hook up a Nintendo in the woods and play Super Mario Brothers all night." Randy rolled his eyes.
I considered this for a second. "You know, that's not a bad idea. I'm sure I could arrange it. I'd just need a really long extension cord and some duct tape."
Randy grinned. "I better get back to my homework," He said with a small sigh.
"Sure. Yeah. But hey, thanks for getting me out of dinner with one of your mom's boring friends."
Randy shrugged. "No problem. It's good for me too. You don't put as much pressure on me to get straight A's as Mom does." He paused. "Maybe because you were such a rotten student yourself." He patted my shoulder and smiled.
"When I showed up for class at all," I replied, grabbing a TV guide off the counter and flipping through it.
"All right. See ya Dad." Randy grabbed another soda and went down the finish his homework.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Later in the day.....Dinner time
"Hey Dad, can you pass me the butter?" Mark asked, holding up a roll.
It was dinner time and we were enjoying our usual inedible cuisine of steak and mashed potatoes, except for Randy who ate a frozen vegetarian dinner. I'm still unable to comprehend how a teenage boy can sit there eating limp broccoli while everybody else is eating a hearty man's meal of steak and potatoes.
I passed the butter to Mark who put a huge chunk right in the center of his potatoes and watched it melt. Brad elbowed him in the side.
"Gimme the butter," Brad demanded.
"Brad!"
Brad sighed. "Fine. Gimme the butter please."
"Now that's what I want to hear," I told him.
Brad smiled sweetly at Jill as he took the butter from Mark. Jill just laughed and shook her head. I glanced over at Randy. His eyelids were falling fast. I nudged him a little.
"Hey Randy, stay awake here. You're about to get a face full of potatoes." I looked over at Jill who shrugged and frowned.
"Huh?" Randy's eyes snapped open and he jerked awake. "Oh, geez. Sorry 'bout that." He shoveled a forkful of mashed potatoes into his mouth and gave a small smile.
Jill looked concerned.
"Randy, sweetheart, are you all right? You look a little pale and rundown." Jill bit her lip and glanced over at me to see if I knew anything. I shrugged a little bit.
"I'm fine," Randy mumbled halfheartedly. He rested his elbow on the table and his hand on the side of his face. He pushed his food around his plate with his fork. He took a bite of his broccoli and made a face.
Jill stared at him for a few seconds, but quickly went back to her food. There was nothing she could do if he didn't admit he was sick.
"Well, all you boys have a doctor's appointment in three weeks. Randy, I'll have to tell the doctor how tired you've been." Jill took a bite of steak and looked at him carefully to see if she could get a reaction.
Randy opened his mouth to argue but thought better of it. He simply went back to his food.
"The doctor's?" Brad asked, raising his eyebrows like he always does when he's nervous.
"Yes. I told you about it yesterday. Mark, can you pass me the salt?" Jill sprinkled some salt on her steak.
"Are they gonna make me pee in a cup?" Brad asked with disgust in his voice.
"Probably. Yeah. Hey, it'll be fun," I offered. "Bring me back a sucker, huh?"
"I need a plan," Brad mumbled. I raised an eyebrow at him. He shook his head. "Never mind."
"Jimmy Peters threw up in the water fountain today," Mark said, ending the awkward silence.
"Awww, Mark. Aren't you a little old for stories like that at the dinner table." Jill wrinkled her nose.
"An entire Froot Roll-up came out intact," Mark added, with a little smile.
"Ewwww." Jill pushed her plate away. "I'm not hungry anymore."
I had to laugh a little bit. Sometimes Mark likes to say things like that to get attention. Have to admire him for it.
Randy shoved his plate towards the middle of the table too. There was still a good amount of food left on it but both Jill and I didn't say anything about it. He would just get defensive anyway.
"I lost my appetite too," Randy muttered in a forced disgust. "I'm gonna go to my room and surf the internet for awhile."
"Okay, sweetheart," Jill called after him, not even bothering to tell him to put his dirty dishes in the sink. She sighed.
Five minutes later, while Jill was doing the dishes, I walked down to Randy's room. Something had to be bothering him. He usually doesn't open up to Jill too much but he talks to me a lot. Maybe I could figure it out.
The light was off. Randy was in bed, sound asleep. I tucked his blanket under his chin and kissed him gently on the forehead. I sure hoped whatever was bothering him would clear up soon.
I walked quickly upstairs.
"Tim, were you just down there talking to Randy?" Jill asked, drying her hands on a dish towel.
"Yeah," I answered, walking over to the hall closet and pretending to look for something.
"And?"
"And nothing. He stayed up late cramming for a test last night and he pushed himself to hard in gym class. He'll be fine. Just let him sleep." I was satisfied with the fact that I was only half lying.
"Okay. But can you talk to Brad now? He stole my yogurt from the fridge and said something about practicing his aim."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
End of chapter 2.
Chapter 2: Tim's P.O.V.
I wiped a little chip grease from the corner or my mouth on my sleeve. I glanced at my watch. Jill would be home soon, meaning I might have to make some sort of attempt to clean up.
I stood up, scratched like a man should scratch, and put my dirty dishes into the sink and left my potato chip bag on the coffee table. I could always blame it on Mark. He always looks like he's done something wrong. Well, now that the cleaning's done.......I sighed. Not much to do. My eyes darted over to the garage. Well, now. The hotrod could always use some extra attention.
Two steps from the garage with my hand on the doorknob I heard the front door open and close in succession. I winced. Crap.
"I'm home," Jill called.
I walked over to the counter where Jill met me, smiling cheerfully. I kissed her briefly on the lips.
"Guess who I ran into today?" Jill asked looking excited.
I groaned. When she asks me that kind of a question she's usually run into somebody I hate, who has a husband, which means I have to go to dinner with Mr. and Mrs. Pain in the Ass.
"Don't groan Tim. You like this person." Jill laughed a little bit.
"You ran into Tony, my car guy?" My heart soars with hope. Ah, Tony. He'd make a lovely dinner guest.
Jill smacked my chest lightly and smiled. "No.....Helen Manchester."
Where had I heard the name before?
"From college. She was in my dorm?"
Hmmmm....Helen Manchester. Suddenly a face registered with the name. Oh God no.
"Helen Manchester, huh?" I scratched my chin. "She still have the nails on a chalkboard voice and sweating problem?"
"Her voice is not that bad and she never had a sweating problem!" Jill frowned.
"Then how come you never let her borrow any of your clothes? Hm. That's right. You were afraid that if you did you'd have swimming pools under your arms." Ha ha, I'd like to see her weasel her way out of that one.
Jill was silent for a minute. She frowned. "Well....we weren't the same size. Helen was much bigger than I was." I raised an eyebrow and she smacked me again. "Anyway that doesn't matter. We're having dinner with her and her husband tomorrow night at her house."
Nononononononononono!
"Sorry Jill, can't. I have that thing....that uh....that thing....yeah." Damn. I wish I could lie with a straight face like Brad can.
"Oh." Jill said patronizingly. "I must have forgotten this 'thing.' Refresh my memory Tim." She crossed her arms and gave me the Stare of Doom.
"The uh, uh..." My mind raced. I needed something. Anything. I spotted Randy grabbing a soda out of the fridge. "Parent's Night," I blurted out.
Ha ha, you're better than Einstein Tim.
"That's tomorrow?" Jill asked suspiciously.
I nodded vigorously.
"Randy? Is Parent's Night tomorrow?" Jill peered around the corner.
"Personally, I'm hurt that you don't believe me." I crossed my arms. Jill snickered.
"Yeah, Mom. One of you guys has to go. Brad's night is Wednesday." Randy slammed the fridge closed and popped open a soda. He yawned once before taking a small sip.
Jill was beaten.
"Well, I guess I can go over to the Manchester's on my own tomorrow. I can't fit it in any other night." Jill frowned grumpily. "I wanted you to meet her husband Jeff."
"I still can't get over the fact that somebody married that woman. He must carry around an emergency Speed Stick wherever he goes." I grinned.
"Stop!" Jill let a small smile slip out and I knew she wasn't too upset. "Look, just make sure to visit Randy's algebra teacher. Randy raves about the guy."
I looked over at Randy who was sitting on the counter, drinking his soda. He nodded and smiled.
"Check, great math teacher." I'd never really enjoyed Parent's Night but anything had to be better than dinner with one of Jill's old college buddies.
"And see Randy's Latin teacher. She says he has an attitude problem." Jill raised an eyebrow at Randy.
Randy's big blue eyes widened and he looked completely innocent. Made me want to rush right up there and hug him. He looked at least five years younger.
"I don't know what she's talking about Mom. I do all my work, and study quietly when I have free time." Randy looked at Jill pitifully.
Jill laughed and went upstairs calling for Brad. Randy smiled. He knew the orphan boy look of his worked effectively in one of two ways. Either Jill felt sympathy for him and made him a nice plate of cookies, or she was amused and forgot the whole situation all together. Either way, Randy is a full blooded Taylor man.
"Okay. Anything else I should know?" I asked, helping Randy turn the conversation in anther direction.
"Yeah. Don't stand too close to my biology teacher. He spits when he talks." Randy snickered and downed the last of his soda.
"Right. Donald Duck teaches bio." I made a mental note. Randy laughed a little bit.
"And make sure and tell my English teacher you're married. She's divorced and desperate. She started hitting on Janitor George last week."
I arched an eyebrow. "The silent bald guy with no teeth?"
Randy nodded. "That's the one." He yawned and stretched a little bit.
I frowned. "You sick or something, Randy?" I felt a little bad for being so over protective but Randy was usually bright and full of life.
He shook his head as he yawned again. "Just a little beat. Worked hard in gym class. We had football."
I grunted loudly in approval. "You should play for the school," I suggested. I could just see it now. Randy running down the field, ball safely nestled in his arms, throwing off a few defenders, faking left, going right, oh, touchdown!
"I can't," Randy said flatly, breaking me out of my trance. "I played last year and my asthma got in the way. Remember?"
I grunted in remembrance. That was a pretty crappy season, ending with Randy being carted off the field to the emergency room with an asthma attack. It was one of the scariest moments of my life.
"Anyway, Coach said the same thing." Randy frowned. "I would like to play...." He trailed off.
I walked over and put a hand on his shoulder sympathetically. He liked football almost as much as Brad liked soccer. It's hard to give up something you love for a health reason. And Randy had always been the one to have to do that. He'd been able to play pee-wee football for awhile, where nobody really got tackled hard but as he moved up it became increasingly difficult for him to play the sport he loved and breathe at the same time. I'd always felt bad for Randy in that respect. He had to hate being so sick all the time.
Randy looked up into my eyes and saw the concern in them or something, because he shook his head a little bit. "It's okay. I've got other stuff to do anyway. "I have a Youth Alliance for the Earth meeting Friday." He smiled. "I get to go on a camping trip this year."
"Hey, that'll be cool! I can let you use my canteen with the radio and my Swiss army knife, and my flashlight/radio/black and white TV/compass." I smiled brightly.
"The whole purpose of the thing is to rough it. I might as well hook up a Nintendo in the woods and play Super Mario Brothers all night." Randy rolled his eyes.
I considered this for a second. "You know, that's not a bad idea. I'm sure I could arrange it. I'd just need a really long extension cord and some duct tape."
Randy grinned. "I better get back to my homework," He said with a small sigh.
"Sure. Yeah. But hey, thanks for getting me out of dinner with one of your mom's boring friends."
Randy shrugged. "No problem. It's good for me too. You don't put as much pressure on me to get straight A's as Mom does." He paused. "Maybe because you were such a rotten student yourself." He patted my shoulder and smiled.
"When I showed up for class at all," I replied, grabbing a TV guide off the counter and flipping through it.
"All right. See ya Dad." Randy grabbed another soda and went down the finish his homework.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Later in the day.....Dinner time
"Hey Dad, can you pass me the butter?" Mark asked, holding up a roll.
It was dinner time and we were enjoying our usual inedible cuisine of steak and mashed potatoes, except for Randy who ate a frozen vegetarian dinner. I'm still unable to comprehend how a teenage boy can sit there eating limp broccoli while everybody else is eating a hearty man's meal of steak and potatoes.
I passed the butter to Mark who put a huge chunk right in the center of his potatoes and watched it melt. Brad elbowed him in the side.
"Gimme the butter," Brad demanded.
"Brad!"
Brad sighed. "Fine. Gimme the butter please."
"Now that's what I want to hear," I told him.
Brad smiled sweetly at Jill as he took the butter from Mark. Jill just laughed and shook her head. I glanced over at Randy. His eyelids were falling fast. I nudged him a little.
"Hey Randy, stay awake here. You're about to get a face full of potatoes." I looked over at Jill who shrugged and frowned.
"Huh?" Randy's eyes snapped open and he jerked awake. "Oh, geez. Sorry 'bout that." He shoveled a forkful of mashed potatoes into his mouth and gave a small smile.
Jill looked concerned.
"Randy, sweetheart, are you all right? You look a little pale and rundown." Jill bit her lip and glanced over at me to see if I knew anything. I shrugged a little bit.
"I'm fine," Randy mumbled halfheartedly. He rested his elbow on the table and his hand on the side of his face. He pushed his food around his plate with his fork. He took a bite of his broccoli and made a face.
Jill stared at him for a few seconds, but quickly went back to her food. There was nothing she could do if he didn't admit he was sick.
"Well, all you boys have a doctor's appointment in three weeks. Randy, I'll have to tell the doctor how tired you've been." Jill took a bite of steak and looked at him carefully to see if she could get a reaction.
Randy opened his mouth to argue but thought better of it. He simply went back to his food.
"The doctor's?" Brad asked, raising his eyebrows like he always does when he's nervous.
"Yes. I told you about it yesterday. Mark, can you pass me the salt?" Jill sprinkled some salt on her steak.
"Are they gonna make me pee in a cup?" Brad asked with disgust in his voice.
"Probably. Yeah. Hey, it'll be fun," I offered. "Bring me back a sucker, huh?"
"I need a plan," Brad mumbled. I raised an eyebrow at him. He shook his head. "Never mind."
"Jimmy Peters threw up in the water fountain today," Mark said, ending the awkward silence.
"Awww, Mark. Aren't you a little old for stories like that at the dinner table." Jill wrinkled her nose.
"An entire Froot Roll-up came out intact," Mark added, with a little smile.
"Ewwww." Jill pushed her plate away. "I'm not hungry anymore."
I had to laugh a little bit. Sometimes Mark likes to say things like that to get attention. Have to admire him for it.
Randy shoved his plate towards the middle of the table too. There was still a good amount of food left on it but both Jill and I didn't say anything about it. He would just get defensive anyway.
"I lost my appetite too," Randy muttered in a forced disgust. "I'm gonna go to my room and surf the internet for awhile."
"Okay, sweetheart," Jill called after him, not even bothering to tell him to put his dirty dishes in the sink. She sighed.
Five minutes later, while Jill was doing the dishes, I walked down to Randy's room. Something had to be bothering him. He usually doesn't open up to Jill too much but he talks to me a lot. Maybe I could figure it out.
The light was off. Randy was in bed, sound asleep. I tucked his blanket under his chin and kissed him gently on the forehead. I sure hoped whatever was bothering him would clear up soon.
I walked quickly upstairs.
"Tim, were you just down there talking to Randy?" Jill asked, drying her hands on a dish towel.
"Yeah," I answered, walking over to the hall closet and pretending to look for something.
"And?"
"And nothing. He stayed up late cramming for a test last night and he pushed himself to hard in gym class. He'll be fine. Just let him sleep." I was satisfied with the fact that I was only half lying.
"Okay. But can you talk to Brad now? He stole my yogurt from the fridge and said something about practicing his aim."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
End of chapter 2.