AN: WARNING THIS CHAPTER HAS NOT BEEN BETAED. All mistakes belong to the
author who is dyslexic and can't spell to save her life. Do not blame my
dear sweet Beta, Professor Lori Belle. She is hard at work studing for
very important tests and needs her private time. That said. please review!
It had been a long trip. Richie had stopped only when necessary all the way to Missouri. He was anxious to be back. This was the year everything was going to be prefect. There was no basketball and no Greg to get in the way of school and more importantly. Heather. Nothing was going stop this year from being the best of his life. Everything uncomfortable was gone. There was no Greg leaning over his shoulder. No Greg making snide comments about Duncan. Duncan's snide comments about Greg didn't bother him anymore. Adam was there to train him. He had a light class load both semesters and a blow of class in each. (Adam had persuaded him to take his classes on ancient weaponry and the history of defense promising an easy A.)
And for a month before classes started Richie was going to get a taste of his future. A taste of truly living with the girl he loved. He had stayed the weekend at her house before, but never a month. Day in and day out they were going to be under the same roof. It would be like rehearsing for the next year when they would be married. Richie had already started looking for the perfect ring. He had spent hours sitting in front of Tessa's grave planning out the proposal. He had talked about how and when and begged her for her guidance on the ring. He knew the right ring would appear and he had all year to find it.
When Richie pulled into the driveway six year old Brandon was sitting on the porch waiting for him.
"Hi Richie!" he yelled running to the car.
"Hey, big guy," Richie answered picking Brandon up. "What are you doing out here all by yourself?"
"Heather had to go to the bathroom."
"Ah. Let's go say hi to everybody." He carried Brandon inside and was greeted by an enthusiastic Gigi. "Hey, girl." Richie scratched her behind the ears.
"Richie!" Melinda smiled coming around the corner. "You sure made great time."
"I have a bit of a lead foot," he admitted kissing her cheek. "Especially when I want to get somewhere."
"Hi, Richie," Courtney said coming down the stairs. She had grown considerably over the summer and matured in her appearance. She was fourteen when Richie met her and she was seventeen now. She looked every year of it and maybe one more.
"Hey, beautiful," he smiled at her. "You've grown up."
"It happens," she shrugged.
"So I've noticed."
"Hey, baby!" Heather came around the corner. "You're here!"
"I am." He leaned over and kissed her with Brandon still perched on his hip. "You smell like soap," he added pulling away.
"Need help with the car?" Heather asked.
"Sure, there's not much though."
They all trouped out to help despite Richie's warning of not much to unload. All he had was two bags of clothes and some books.
"Where are all your things?" Melinda asked, grabbing Brandon by the back of his overalls as he tried to run across the street after a cat.
"Storage. Mac'll ship it all down when I need it."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, got it all planned out," Richie assured her as he picked up the heavier of the two bags. Brandon insisted on helping so Richie gave him a big law reference book to carry in, Courtney and Melinda got the other books and Heather got his other bag.
"Welcome home," she smiled at him when they were left alone in Heather's room.
"I like the sound of that." He put his arms around her waist and looked into her green eyes. He loved her eyes. They were the first thing that attracted him to her. The contrast with her dark hair would have made her an exotic beauty if it hadn't been for her innocent face and impish grin.
They sat on the foot of the bed limbs entwined talking and laughing softly until Brandon came up to announce dinner was ready. They sat side by side at the dinner table with their ankles hooked together.
"How was your summer, Richie?" Steven asked.
"It was busy, lots of working."
"Saving up money for the year?"
"Saving up money for whenever I need it," Richie answered.
"Ah, you have a good head on your shoulders. I hope you keep it there."
Richie couldn't help but smile at the literal meaning the comment held. "I do, too."
. . . . . .
"Brandon, stop whining and eat them. You're not going out to play until you do," Richie said tiredly. He had been going in circles trying to get Brandon to eat his grapes. Brandon refused to even touch them. "Why don't you want the grapes?" Richie asked crouching beside Brandon's chair.
"Cause."
"Wow, that's a great reason. Eat them."
"No."
"Eat half."
"No."
"Eat seven."
"No."
"Eat seven and I won't tell your mom you were being a baby."
"No."
"Fine, then you can sit there until she gets home from her work and tell her why you're still at the table." Richie stood up and finished putting the lunch things away.
"Richie, can I go to the mall with Jackie?" Courtney asked coming around the corner.
"Sure," Richie said. "Just be home by dinner."
"We were going to go get pizza."
"I'll tell your mom," he told her.
Melinda had gotten a job at a doctor's office, Steven had his accounting firm, Alex was backpacking across Europe, and Heather was working full time at the restaurant until school started, so, Courtney had been babysitting Brandon for the last two months with the promise of getting to go out when she wanted while Richie was there.
"Bye."
"See ya, Court."
"Richie, I wanna go play," Brandon whined from his seat at the table.
"You can sit there until the grapes turn into raisins and then eat them for all I care," Richie told him. "But you're not going anywhere until you eat eight."
"You said seven."
"I just changed my mind."
"That's not fair!"
"I'm in charge. You eat eight then you can go play."
"Eight?"
"Eight."
Brandon sighed the sigh of a man being led to the electric chair and carefully counted out the eight smallest grapes on his plate.
"The faster you eat them the less you taste them," Richie told him. "And drink this right after," he added sliding the boy's milk glass closer to him.
In the end Brandon ate his grapes and Richie didn't tell Melinda of the argument. For the rest of the day Richie and Brandon played in the backyard on the swing set/jungle gym Brandon had gotten for Christmas the previous year. Gigi joined in their games for a while then got distracted by some birds in a tree.
Richie had been wondering how he was going to fit working out in his schedule as a full time babysitter, but one day with Brandon made him realize that taking care of a six year old boy was a work out. He chased Brandon around the yard, pushed him on the swings, played catch, they took the dog for a walk, played pirates, and all sorts of other activities. Richie found himself praying that it wouldn't rain. There was no way he was going to be able to keep Brandon inside all day without the both of them going crazy.
. . . . . .
Two weeks and a thousand leads later, Richie still had no apartment or job. He had honestly thought that a month would have been enough time to get both. He had even called Adam, who refused him help.
"You have to do it on your own," Adam told him. "You will not be the baby immortal forever. Fending for yourself is just part of life. You have people who are willing to let you live with them for as long as you need, rent free. You're doing fine. If you get truly stuck. then we'll talk."
Two weeks after that school started. Richie's schedule was perfect for dropping off and picking up Brandon from school while Courtney insisted she was too old to be driven to school and got a ride from a friend. The first day of school Melinda took off work to take and pick up Brandon because it was his first day of first grade, so Richie had an extra twenty minutes to sleep. Heather had moved back into the sorority house so Richie had the room to himself. He woke up and turned off his alarm and wondered into the hall just in time for Brandon to tell him goodbye as he was ushered down the stairs by Melinda.
Richie took a shower and got dress. Courtney was running out the door as he came down the stairs. "Alex is coming home tonight!" he called after her. "Don't be late!"
He grabbed the last of the Pop Tarts put them on the grocery list and left for his first class. The first day wasn't that bad. His pre-law class sizes had dwindled down considerable since his sophomore year. Most had either funked or dropped out.
"Hi Professor Conroy," Richie greeted his favorite professor as he as in self in the second row. He had beet all the other students to class.
"Hello, Mr. Ryan. How was your summer?"
"Pretty good."
"Have you been looking into law schools?"
"Yes, sir. I have the applications just waiting to be filled out."
"Have you ever considered Michigan?"
"Yeah. They're at the top of my list."
"I was hoping you would say that. A local law firm, that one of my good friends is partner in, asked me for internship candidates. You were the first to come to mind."
"Really?"
"Yes." A couple more students walked into the room. "Mr. Jacobs, Ms. Jefferson," Professor Conroy greeted them before turning back to Richie. "Come by my office after class and I'll give you the details."
"Yes, sir."
By the end of his first class Richie had five pages of notes scribbled out and a tape of the lecture to go over in case he missed anything important. After class was dismissed Richie followed Professor Conroy to his office.
"Now, Mr. Ryan, are you interested?"
"Of course. That would be awesome."
"Along with the internship you will get a full scholarship to the law school in town. You will also get school credit for your hours at the firm."
"Is there a down side?" Richie asked.
"I don't want you to get any ideas of arguing cases in front of juries, you'd be an assistant. That means research, errands, and endless paper work and you won't get paid. It's not a glamorous job."
"You should see what I do now."
"There will be long hours plus a full load of school work."
"With all due respect, Professor, last year I was the captain of a champion basketball team, a head waiter at The Stadium, carried a full load, had a steady girlfriend and came out with all A's."
"I know; you are a hard worker. That's why I want to nominate you for the position. As long as you are sure you can handle it."
"I know I can."
"Then I will get you the necessary paper work to apply. You will need two more letters of recommendation along with mine. I would suggest an employer and a professor."
"Yes, sir." Richie stood up and shook Professor Conroy's hand. "Thank you, sir."
"You have real promise, Mr. Ryan. I have every faith in you. Don't let me down."
"I won't."
Richie left Professor Conroy's office and all but skipped to his car. He had great news for anyone willing to listen. He got in his car and drove back to the O'Neal's house.
It had been a long trip. Richie had stopped only when necessary all the way to Missouri. He was anxious to be back. This was the year everything was going to be prefect. There was no basketball and no Greg to get in the way of school and more importantly. Heather. Nothing was going stop this year from being the best of his life. Everything uncomfortable was gone. There was no Greg leaning over his shoulder. No Greg making snide comments about Duncan. Duncan's snide comments about Greg didn't bother him anymore. Adam was there to train him. He had a light class load both semesters and a blow of class in each. (Adam had persuaded him to take his classes on ancient weaponry and the history of defense promising an easy A.)
And for a month before classes started Richie was going to get a taste of his future. A taste of truly living with the girl he loved. He had stayed the weekend at her house before, but never a month. Day in and day out they were going to be under the same roof. It would be like rehearsing for the next year when they would be married. Richie had already started looking for the perfect ring. He had spent hours sitting in front of Tessa's grave planning out the proposal. He had talked about how and when and begged her for her guidance on the ring. He knew the right ring would appear and he had all year to find it.
When Richie pulled into the driveway six year old Brandon was sitting on the porch waiting for him.
"Hi Richie!" he yelled running to the car.
"Hey, big guy," Richie answered picking Brandon up. "What are you doing out here all by yourself?"
"Heather had to go to the bathroom."
"Ah. Let's go say hi to everybody." He carried Brandon inside and was greeted by an enthusiastic Gigi. "Hey, girl." Richie scratched her behind the ears.
"Richie!" Melinda smiled coming around the corner. "You sure made great time."
"I have a bit of a lead foot," he admitted kissing her cheek. "Especially when I want to get somewhere."
"Hi, Richie," Courtney said coming down the stairs. She had grown considerably over the summer and matured in her appearance. She was fourteen when Richie met her and she was seventeen now. She looked every year of it and maybe one more.
"Hey, beautiful," he smiled at her. "You've grown up."
"It happens," she shrugged.
"So I've noticed."
"Hey, baby!" Heather came around the corner. "You're here!"
"I am." He leaned over and kissed her with Brandon still perched on his hip. "You smell like soap," he added pulling away.
"Need help with the car?" Heather asked.
"Sure, there's not much though."
They all trouped out to help despite Richie's warning of not much to unload. All he had was two bags of clothes and some books.
"Where are all your things?" Melinda asked, grabbing Brandon by the back of his overalls as he tried to run across the street after a cat.
"Storage. Mac'll ship it all down when I need it."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, got it all planned out," Richie assured her as he picked up the heavier of the two bags. Brandon insisted on helping so Richie gave him a big law reference book to carry in, Courtney and Melinda got the other books and Heather got his other bag.
"Welcome home," she smiled at him when they were left alone in Heather's room.
"I like the sound of that." He put his arms around her waist and looked into her green eyes. He loved her eyes. They were the first thing that attracted him to her. The contrast with her dark hair would have made her an exotic beauty if it hadn't been for her innocent face and impish grin.
They sat on the foot of the bed limbs entwined talking and laughing softly until Brandon came up to announce dinner was ready. They sat side by side at the dinner table with their ankles hooked together.
"How was your summer, Richie?" Steven asked.
"It was busy, lots of working."
"Saving up money for the year?"
"Saving up money for whenever I need it," Richie answered.
"Ah, you have a good head on your shoulders. I hope you keep it there."
Richie couldn't help but smile at the literal meaning the comment held. "I do, too."
. . . . . .
"Brandon, stop whining and eat them. You're not going out to play until you do," Richie said tiredly. He had been going in circles trying to get Brandon to eat his grapes. Brandon refused to even touch them. "Why don't you want the grapes?" Richie asked crouching beside Brandon's chair.
"Cause."
"Wow, that's a great reason. Eat them."
"No."
"Eat half."
"No."
"Eat seven."
"No."
"Eat seven and I won't tell your mom you were being a baby."
"No."
"Fine, then you can sit there until she gets home from her work and tell her why you're still at the table." Richie stood up and finished putting the lunch things away.
"Richie, can I go to the mall with Jackie?" Courtney asked coming around the corner.
"Sure," Richie said. "Just be home by dinner."
"We were going to go get pizza."
"I'll tell your mom," he told her.
Melinda had gotten a job at a doctor's office, Steven had his accounting firm, Alex was backpacking across Europe, and Heather was working full time at the restaurant until school started, so, Courtney had been babysitting Brandon for the last two months with the promise of getting to go out when she wanted while Richie was there.
"Bye."
"See ya, Court."
"Richie, I wanna go play," Brandon whined from his seat at the table.
"You can sit there until the grapes turn into raisins and then eat them for all I care," Richie told him. "But you're not going anywhere until you eat eight."
"You said seven."
"I just changed my mind."
"That's not fair!"
"I'm in charge. You eat eight then you can go play."
"Eight?"
"Eight."
Brandon sighed the sigh of a man being led to the electric chair and carefully counted out the eight smallest grapes on his plate.
"The faster you eat them the less you taste them," Richie told him. "And drink this right after," he added sliding the boy's milk glass closer to him.
In the end Brandon ate his grapes and Richie didn't tell Melinda of the argument. For the rest of the day Richie and Brandon played in the backyard on the swing set/jungle gym Brandon had gotten for Christmas the previous year. Gigi joined in their games for a while then got distracted by some birds in a tree.
Richie had been wondering how he was going to fit working out in his schedule as a full time babysitter, but one day with Brandon made him realize that taking care of a six year old boy was a work out. He chased Brandon around the yard, pushed him on the swings, played catch, they took the dog for a walk, played pirates, and all sorts of other activities. Richie found himself praying that it wouldn't rain. There was no way he was going to be able to keep Brandon inside all day without the both of them going crazy.
. . . . . .
Two weeks and a thousand leads later, Richie still had no apartment or job. He had honestly thought that a month would have been enough time to get both. He had even called Adam, who refused him help.
"You have to do it on your own," Adam told him. "You will not be the baby immortal forever. Fending for yourself is just part of life. You have people who are willing to let you live with them for as long as you need, rent free. You're doing fine. If you get truly stuck. then we'll talk."
Two weeks after that school started. Richie's schedule was perfect for dropping off and picking up Brandon from school while Courtney insisted she was too old to be driven to school and got a ride from a friend. The first day of school Melinda took off work to take and pick up Brandon because it was his first day of first grade, so Richie had an extra twenty minutes to sleep. Heather had moved back into the sorority house so Richie had the room to himself. He woke up and turned off his alarm and wondered into the hall just in time for Brandon to tell him goodbye as he was ushered down the stairs by Melinda.
Richie took a shower and got dress. Courtney was running out the door as he came down the stairs. "Alex is coming home tonight!" he called after her. "Don't be late!"
He grabbed the last of the Pop Tarts put them on the grocery list and left for his first class. The first day wasn't that bad. His pre-law class sizes had dwindled down considerable since his sophomore year. Most had either funked or dropped out.
"Hi Professor Conroy," Richie greeted his favorite professor as he as in self in the second row. He had beet all the other students to class.
"Hello, Mr. Ryan. How was your summer?"
"Pretty good."
"Have you been looking into law schools?"
"Yes, sir. I have the applications just waiting to be filled out."
"Have you ever considered Michigan?"
"Yeah. They're at the top of my list."
"I was hoping you would say that. A local law firm, that one of my good friends is partner in, asked me for internship candidates. You were the first to come to mind."
"Really?"
"Yes." A couple more students walked into the room. "Mr. Jacobs, Ms. Jefferson," Professor Conroy greeted them before turning back to Richie. "Come by my office after class and I'll give you the details."
"Yes, sir."
By the end of his first class Richie had five pages of notes scribbled out and a tape of the lecture to go over in case he missed anything important. After class was dismissed Richie followed Professor Conroy to his office.
"Now, Mr. Ryan, are you interested?"
"Of course. That would be awesome."
"Along with the internship you will get a full scholarship to the law school in town. You will also get school credit for your hours at the firm."
"Is there a down side?" Richie asked.
"I don't want you to get any ideas of arguing cases in front of juries, you'd be an assistant. That means research, errands, and endless paper work and you won't get paid. It's not a glamorous job."
"You should see what I do now."
"There will be long hours plus a full load of school work."
"With all due respect, Professor, last year I was the captain of a champion basketball team, a head waiter at The Stadium, carried a full load, had a steady girlfriend and came out with all A's."
"I know; you are a hard worker. That's why I want to nominate you for the position. As long as you are sure you can handle it."
"I know I can."
"Then I will get you the necessary paper work to apply. You will need two more letters of recommendation along with mine. I would suggest an employer and a professor."
"Yes, sir." Richie stood up and shook Professor Conroy's hand. "Thank you, sir."
"You have real promise, Mr. Ryan. I have every faith in you. Don't let me down."
"I won't."
Richie left Professor Conroy's office and all but skipped to his car. He had great news for anyone willing to listen. He got in his car and drove back to the O'Neal's house.