AN: Sorry it took so long. Major writer's block. Hopefully the updates
will be more frequent.
By the time he had gone two blocks, Richie was ready to punch the next person who pointed him out to someone else. 'Only three more blocks,' he told himself as he passed the children's clothing boutique. Luckily, the wind was leaving him alone.
A group of High School age kids were gathered in front of McDonalds. One of them whispered something and the group laughed.
"Nice outfit!" one called. "Aren't the boys supposed to wear pants?"
Richie did his best to ignore them.
"Man, I'm glad I don't go to private school," another one added. "I hate cross-dressing."
Richie set his jaw and quickened his pace. Because of his coat, you couldn't see the plaid and he did indeed appear to be wearing a skirt. He contemplated running the rest of the way, but didn't want to chance his skirt.er, kilt moving anywhere inappropriate. He could hear a loud chorus of 'Walk Like a Man' behind him. Slowly it faded into the distance as he rounded the corner.
Richie had never been so happy to get to Duncan's office. He spotted his bag in the corner and grabbed his underwear and put it on. He had just started trying to remember how to take his outfit off when Tessa came in.
"Can you help me?" he asked, spinning in circles in a vain attempt to find the end of the yards of fabric wrapped around his waist.
"No," Tessa answered hiding a smile. "Do you not know how?"
"Dad always does it."
"Then I guess we'll have to go ask him."
"He has a class right now," Richie reminded her.
"I'm sure we can get his attention long enough to ask."
She picked the discarded bonnet up off the desk and started down the hall. When Richie didn't follow, she went back, grabbed his hand, and dragged him down the hall, down the stairs, through a lounge, down another hall and into Duncan's classroom. From his perch at the top of the lecture hall, Richie got the sudden feeling he'd been set up. Duncan was standing in front of the class in his own kilt and plaid. But instead of a stupid little hat and sporran, he had on some kind of leather and brass armor. Amazingly Richie and Tessa's entrance went undetected by the class. Richie started to back away when he felt something plopped onto his head. The damn bonnet.
"Ah, there's the lad now!" Duncan announced, gesturing to Tessa and Richie. There was a sudden unison squeak as the class turned to face the back.
"Go," Tessa whispered, giving him a little push.
"Nu-huh." Richie locked his knees and refused to budge.
"Go." She pushed him a little harder. His feet slipped off the edge of the stairs and Richie went down with a thud.
"You okay?" someone asked from amid the sea of smiling faces.
Tessa rushed the few feet to Richie, "Are you alright, Richie? I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to push you so hard!"
"Ach! Me arse!" Richie replied in a think Scottish accent. Everyone laughed.
"Come here," Duncan smiled, replying with an accent as well.
Richie trotted down the stairs with a forced smile on his face. Richie spent the rest of the class modeling his outfit and mimicking Duncan's accent. By the time Duncan was ready to dismiss the class for the day, Richie had the class in stitches. Duncan called last minute instructions to the class as they all trooped out.
"Thanks for being a sport," he said ruffling Richie's hair through the bonnet.
"Get me out of this thing," was Richie's response. Despite his playful attitude during class, he was not very happy.
"Can't," Duncan answered. "Tessa wants pictures."
"Figures," Richie groaned.
So he went home in full costume, pouting the whole way. He was bound and determined to be mad as long as he could. No cute little gesture was going to make this up to him. He had been humiliated, on purpose, and that was not something he was just going to let go. Luckily when they got home, it was too dark for pictures, so Richie just went straight upstairs demanding for Duncan to 'get it off me!'
Richie didn't come down for dinner so Tessa put a plate outside his door. The next morning, Richie was downstairs in his sweats, waiting for a ride to tryouts. At school, he told Nathan and Ginger about what had happened and they agreed that his parents deserved the silent treatment for as long as Richie could keep it up. The silence that drove Duncan and Tessa insane with guilt only lasted for a week. Friday night, Richie stomped up to his room as usual then a few minutes later came running back down with a huge grin on his face and a brand new letter jacket on.
"What's all this?" Duncan asked looking up from setting the table.
"Where did you get that coat?" Tessa added.
"What this thing?" Richie smiled and modeled it. It was black with forest green trim. The front left had a carpet like green RI on it with the "I" slightly behind and lower than the "R." Noel-MacLeod was embroidered in big white script letters across the back along with the number 23. "I found it in my locker this morning. Along with a practice schedule."
"You made the team?" Tessa ventured.
"Not just the team. see, so many guys tried out that they ended up making two teams, Varsity and JV, I'm the starting catcher for Varsity! I made Varsity on my first try!" Richie beamed with pride.
Tessa wasn't sure what the difference between Varsity and JV was, but judging by Richie's reaction he had made the better of the two and that was an accomplishment. "Congratulations!" She smiled and gave him a hug.
"Good job, Rich!" Duncan took his turn and thumped Richie hard on the back. "I guess playing catch in the park with your old man wasn't such a bad idea after all."
"Guess not."
"I guess we're celebrating tonight," Tessa looked over the dinner she had started to make.
"Actually. Um, can we celebrate tomorrow?" Richie asked awkwardly. "See, Ginger and Shawna wanna treat me 'n Nathan to dinner tonight. We were going to go to Study Hall. is that okay?"
"Of course," Duncan approved, before Tessa could object. "You have fun with your friends. But tomorrow night, you're stuck with us, deal?"
"Cool, thanks. Well, I gotta go change. Nathan's gonna be here soon." With that he turned and thundered up the stairs.
"What's Varsity?" Tessa asked in a whisper.
"The best players make Varsity. JV is Junior Varsity, the guys who are good but not as good as the others make that team and work their way up," Duncan explained.
"I guess someone will have to teach me about baseball as well," Tessa said opening the freezer. "Since I will have so many games to go to."
. . . . . .
Richie's junior year ended quickly and summer set in. Richie spent a lot of time with his friends on the weekends and during the week he worked at Tessa's art store. Being around art and art supplies all day gave Richie the need to doodle. So one day, he confiscated a sketchbook off the shelves and a nice set of pencils and set to some serious drawing whenever there were no customers. Tessa took to going through it every night when he went to bed and couldn't keep her pride down. She was proud when she watched him at his weekly baseball practices, but she didn't understand baseball. art she knew. And she could tell Richie had talent. One day, she presented him with a box of top of the line pastels and his own little corner in the back room where he could draw during slow periods. Richie happily took up residence there at his table, sketching and drawing. Tessa would give him little lessons every so often but mostly left his talent to develop on its own. Which it did.
Finally, the end of summer began to approach and the count down to the first day of school began. But first there was the little matter of Tessa's birthday. Richie was determined to make it special since it was her first birthday as an official mom. The year before it had been pretend, a front, a lie; this year it was legal and they had the certificate to prove it. Richie and Duncan plotted for weeks trying to decide what to do. Finally, they decided on taking her out for a fancy dinner and dancing. Duncan even taught Richie to dance for the occasion. So on July 25th, they all got dressed up and piled into the car.
Tessa spent the entire drive there thanking them for what she was sure was going to be a beautiful evening. Richie just grinned in the back seat and patted his sport coat pocket. They settled down at their table and talked for a few minutes. They placed their orders and then Richie announced it was time for presents. Duncan reached into his inside pocket and pulled out a long velvet box.
"It's from both of us," he told her before handing it over.
Tessa opened the box and looked at the silver link bracelet. Attached at even intervals were six silver charms.
"It's a charm bracelet," Richie told her in case she hadn't noticed. "I remembered you showing me your old one when we moved. You said everything that was important to you was on that bracelet in one form or another. Then I realized something; Dad and I weren't on there. But it was so full; we decided to get you a new one."
"That is so sweet of you," Tessa told him, putting a hand on his cheek then giving Duncan a kiss.
"It was his idea," Duncan told her. "I just jumped on the band wagon."
"See, this one," Richie interrupted pointing at the first charm, a small flashlight. "Is me. for when I broke in. get it?" She gave a little laugh and nodded. "This one," he pointed at a knife. "Is Dad. They didn't have swords, but this looks kinda like the katana. And this one," an apple. "Is Washington. Washington apples," he smiled proud of his pun. "This," a palm tree. "Is Rhode Island. Tree, tropics, island," he explained. "The treasure chest is the antique store. 'Cause there was that chest that you wouldn't let anyone buy 'cause you liked it. And the palette is for the art store."
"That was very creative," Tessa told him. "Did you think of all this by yourself?"
"Dad helped."
"Mostly with the check," Duncan smiled.
"Yeah, I was kinda low on cash," Richie admitted. "So my present to you is I'm not gonna complain. not once. that I'm stuck in this horrible, itchy, suffocating suit all night. And Dad's gonna make me dance with you."
"I think you just blew that one, Rich," Duncan told him.
"Oh, we'll just start now," Tessa said running to Richie's rescue.
"No, don't worry," Richie told her. "I figured that would happen. so I brought a back up." He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small felt pouch.
"Don't look at me," Duncan shrugged when Tessa glanced at him. "I don't know what it is."
Tessa opened the pouch and looked at the small, silver, baby bottle charm inside.
"It's for the adoption," Richie told her.
"What are the numbers for?" she asked each of the five sides had numbers engraved on them.
"In order. my birthday, the day I met you guys, the date on the adoption certificate, the day you told me, and my initials. Do you like it?"
"Oh, Richie." Tessa turned the bottle in her hands. "How thoughtful." She gave him a hug and a kiss.
"You like it?" he asked again.
"I love it." She wiped at her teary eyes.
"Good." He smiled proudly.
A little while later the food came. They talked about the upcoming year. Duncan had been volunteered to teach a couple night classes along with his daily classes. Tessa's store had become very popular once she added weekly beginners' classes. Richie had baseball as well as the free lance art class he had been convinced to sign up for to look forward to as well as all the activities that came with senior year: senior pictures, prom, graduation, and (Richie's favorite) off campus lunch.
After dinner, Richie amazed Tessa with his basic dance moves. Duncan was much better on the dance floor so he and Tessa danced for almost an hour. Richie mostly left them to themselves but cut in every now and then. After Richie convinced them they had had enough dancing, they went home for the cake Duncan and Richie had made.
. . . . . .
School started two weeks before Richie's birthday. Richie came home after his first day bubbling over with excitement about the year. He told Tessa how much he loved his art class. His English class was going to be mostly writing, which he still had a problem with, so he was a little apprehensive. But, he had talked to his teacher after class and he was willing to give Richie some extra help if he needed it. His reading class, the one Tessa forced him to sign up for, was small and he said it would be 'okay'. He, Nathan, Ginger and Shawna had gone to Study Hall, where they went every Friday, for lunch. He also got to show off his bike and got tons of attention for it.
They waited dinner on Duncan who got home around eight. Richie once again told the story of his wonderful day and how much he looked forward to the upcoming school year. Duncan told them about how long his day had been. He did not have great expectations for the year.
. . . . . .
September 19th, Richie went to bed with the promise of not having to go to school on his birthday, which landed on a Friday. Friday morning, Richie woke up most unpleasantly. Duncan entered Richie's room at five in the morning. As luck would have it, Richie was sound asleep on his stomach. With a smile, Duncan raised his hand and brought it down with a WHACK on Richie's boxer clad butt.
Richie woke with a start and a yelp. "What the hell?"
"One," Duncan told him. WHACK! "Two. Happy Birthday, by the way."
"Hey!"
WHACK!
"Three."
"Mom!" Richie yelled, struggling to untangle himself from his sheets,
WHACK!
"Four."
"Mom!"
WHACK!
"Five."
"MOOOOOOOMMMMM!!"
WHACK!
"Six."
"AGGGH!!"
"What's going on up here?" Tessa asked, laughing in the doorway. Richie had wiggled his top half off the bed, but his legs were tangled in the sheets and his butt was positioned perfectly for Duncan, who was happily whacking away counting as he went.
"Birthday spankings," he explained. WHACK! "Seven."
"Make him stop!"
WHACK!
"Eight."
"Mom, you can't." WHACK! "OW!"
"Nine."
"Let him do this!"
"And why not?" she asked not moving.
WHACK!
"Ten."
"Cause!" WHACK! "Stop it!"
"Eleven."
"Oh, Richie. He's almost done. It will be over soon."
WHACK! "Twelve." WHACK! "Thirteen."
"Good enough! Stop, please!"
WHACK!
"Fourteen."
"Duncan, at least stop hitting him so hard."
WHACK!
"Fifteen. I'm barely touching him." WHACK! "Sixteen."
"My ass you're not touching me!" Richie protested.
WHACK!
"Seventeen. And I think we need to," WHACK! "Eighteen. Talk about your language."
"I'm sorry!"
WHACK!
"Nineteen."
"Finally."
WHACK!
"And one to grow on."
"Done now?"
WHACK!
"And one for your language." Duncan looked at Tessa. "Anything else while he's stuck?"
"His room is pretty messy," she said. "He was supposed to clean it."
WHACK!
"OW!"
"Anything else?" Duncan asked. Tessa shook her head. "What about you, Rich. You been up to anything we should know about?"
"Nu-huh," he assured him.
"Okay."
WHACK!
"What was that for?!" Richie demanded.
"Just in case."
Tessa made Richie's favorite breakfast for him. Chocolate chip pancakes, link sausage, bacon, biscuits, and fresh berries where on the table when he finally came down. He made a big show of getting a cushion from the couch to sit on before inhaling the food. He blatantly ignored Duncan and only spoke to Tessa using the shortest phrases possible. After Duncan and Tessa cleared the table, (Richie was excused from all chores for the day) they begged him to join them in the living room. Only when Duncan threatened to return his presents to the store did he go in.
Richie got a new pair of gloves and a scarf that matched his letterman jacket, a new set of pastels and charcoal pencils, a set of sketch books in all different sizes, a set of canvases and frames, an easel, all new catcher's gear: a helmet and mask, chest protector, and shin guards; five cds, six movies and some clothes.
"Mom," Richie groaned, looking into a box containing a new suite and tie. "I wear enough of this crap at school!"
All in all it was a good haul. They spent the day having Richie model his new clothes and his baseball uniform complete with catcher's gear, watching movies, and eating his favorite meals. That night Ginger, Nathan, and Shawna took him to dinner and a movie.
Richie got home in time for cake and one more movie. He piled all his presents into the spare upstairs room to deal with Saturday and went to bed. Early the next morning, Richie woke with a start when a hand clamped over his mouth. He started to yell, but the noise didn't carry past the hand. He started to struggle, but the person who was holding him was stronger than he was and he didn't manage to move at all. Once Richie realized that he didn't have a chance, he stopped moving and waited to see what the stranger would do to him.
By the time he had gone two blocks, Richie was ready to punch the next person who pointed him out to someone else. 'Only three more blocks,' he told himself as he passed the children's clothing boutique. Luckily, the wind was leaving him alone.
A group of High School age kids were gathered in front of McDonalds. One of them whispered something and the group laughed.
"Nice outfit!" one called. "Aren't the boys supposed to wear pants?"
Richie did his best to ignore them.
"Man, I'm glad I don't go to private school," another one added. "I hate cross-dressing."
Richie set his jaw and quickened his pace. Because of his coat, you couldn't see the plaid and he did indeed appear to be wearing a skirt. He contemplated running the rest of the way, but didn't want to chance his skirt.er, kilt moving anywhere inappropriate. He could hear a loud chorus of 'Walk Like a Man' behind him. Slowly it faded into the distance as he rounded the corner.
Richie had never been so happy to get to Duncan's office. He spotted his bag in the corner and grabbed his underwear and put it on. He had just started trying to remember how to take his outfit off when Tessa came in.
"Can you help me?" he asked, spinning in circles in a vain attempt to find the end of the yards of fabric wrapped around his waist.
"No," Tessa answered hiding a smile. "Do you not know how?"
"Dad always does it."
"Then I guess we'll have to go ask him."
"He has a class right now," Richie reminded her.
"I'm sure we can get his attention long enough to ask."
She picked the discarded bonnet up off the desk and started down the hall. When Richie didn't follow, she went back, grabbed his hand, and dragged him down the hall, down the stairs, through a lounge, down another hall and into Duncan's classroom. From his perch at the top of the lecture hall, Richie got the sudden feeling he'd been set up. Duncan was standing in front of the class in his own kilt and plaid. But instead of a stupid little hat and sporran, he had on some kind of leather and brass armor. Amazingly Richie and Tessa's entrance went undetected by the class. Richie started to back away when he felt something plopped onto his head. The damn bonnet.
"Ah, there's the lad now!" Duncan announced, gesturing to Tessa and Richie. There was a sudden unison squeak as the class turned to face the back.
"Go," Tessa whispered, giving him a little push.
"Nu-huh." Richie locked his knees and refused to budge.
"Go." She pushed him a little harder. His feet slipped off the edge of the stairs and Richie went down with a thud.
"You okay?" someone asked from amid the sea of smiling faces.
Tessa rushed the few feet to Richie, "Are you alright, Richie? I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to push you so hard!"
"Ach! Me arse!" Richie replied in a think Scottish accent. Everyone laughed.
"Come here," Duncan smiled, replying with an accent as well.
Richie trotted down the stairs with a forced smile on his face. Richie spent the rest of the class modeling his outfit and mimicking Duncan's accent. By the time Duncan was ready to dismiss the class for the day, Richie had the class in stitches. Duncan called last minute instructions to the class as they all trooped out.
"Thanks for being a sport," he said ruffling Richie's hair through the bonnet.
"Get me out of this thing," was Richie's response. Despite his playful attitude during class, he was not very happy.
"Can't," Duncan answered. "Tessa wants pictures."
"Figures," Richie groaned.
So he went home in full costume, pouting the whole way. He was bound and determined to be mad as long as he could. No cute little gesture was going to make this up to him. He had been humiliated, on purpose, and that was not something he was just going to let go. Luckily when they got home, it was too dark for pictures, so Richie just went straight upstairs demanding for Duncan to 'get it off me!'
Richie didn't come down for dinner so Tessa put a plate outside his door. The next morning, Richie was downstairs in his sweats, waiting for a ride to tryouts. At school, he told Nathan and Ginger about what had happened and they agreed that his parents deserved the silent treatment for as long as Richie could keep it up. The silence that drove Duncan and Tessa insane with guilt only lasted for a week. Friday night, Richie stomped up to his room as usual then a few minutes later came running back down with a huge grin on his face and a brand new letter jacket on.
"What's all this?" Duncan asked looking up from setting the table.
"Where did you get that coat?" Tessa added.
"What this thing?" Richie smiled and modeled it. It was black with forest green trim. The front left had a carpet like green RI on it with the "I" slightly behind and lower than the "R." Noel-MacLeod was embroidered in big white script letters across the back along with the number 23. "I found it in my locker this morning. Along with a practice schedule."
"You made the team?" Tessa ventured.
"Not just the team. see, so many guys tried out that they ended up making two teams, Varsity and JV, I'm the starting catcher for Varsity! I made Varsity on my first try!" Richie beamed with pride.
Tessa wasn't sure what the difference between Varsity and JV was, but judging by Richie's reaction he had made the better of the two and that was an accomplishment. "Congratulations!" She smiled and gave him a hug.
"Good job, Rich!" Duncan took his turn and thumped Richie hard on the back. "I guess playing catch in the park with your old man wasn't such a bad idea after all."
"Guess not."
"I guess we're celebrating tonight," Tessa looked over the dinner she had started to make.
"Actually. Um, can we celebrate tomorrow?" Richie asked awkwardly. "See, Ginger and Shawna wanna treat me 'n Nathan to dinner tonight. We were going to go to Study Hall. is that okay?"
"Of course," Duncan approved, before Tessa could object. "You have fun with your friends. But tomorrow night, you're stuck with us, deal?"
"Cool, thanks. Well, I gotta go change. Nathan's gonna be here soon." With that he turned and thundered up the stairs.
"What's Varsity?" Tessa asked in a whisper.
"The best players make Varsity. JV is Junior Varsity, the guys who are good but not as good as the others make that team and work their way up," Duncan explained.
"I guess someone will have to teach me about baseball as well," Tessa said opening the freezer. "Since I will have so many games to go to."
. . . . . .
Richie's junior year ended quickly and summer set in. Richie spent a lot of time with his friends on the weekends and during the week he worked at Tessa's art store. Being around art and art supplies all day gave Richie the need to doodle. So one day, he confiscated a sketchbook off the shelves and a nice set of pencils and set to some serious drawing whenever there were no customers. Tessa took to going through it every night when he went to bed and couldn't keep her pride down. She was proud when she watched him at his weekly baseball practices, but she didn't understand baseball. art she knew. And she could tell Richie had talent. One day, she presented him with a box of top of the line pastels and his own little corner in the back room where he could draw during slow periods. Richie happily took up residence there at his table, sketching and drawing. Tessa would give him little lessons every so often but mostly left his talent to develop on its own. Which it did.
Finally, the end of summer began to approach and the count down to the first day of school began. But first there was the little matter of Tessa's birthday. Richie was determined to make it special since it was her first birthday as an official mom. The year before it had been pretend, a front, a lie; this year it was legal and they had the certificate to prove it. Richie and Duncan plotted for weeks trying to decide what to do. Finally, they decided on taking her out for a fancy dinner and dancing. Duncan even taught Richie to dance for the occasion. So on July 25th, they all got dressed up and piled into the car.
Tessa spent the entire drive there thanking them for what she was sure was going to be a beautiful evening. Richie just grinned in the back seat and patted his sport coat pocket. They settled down at their table and talked for a few minutes. They placed their orders and then Richie announced it was time for presents. Duncan reached into his inside pocket and pulled out a long velvet box.
"It's from both of us," he told her before handing it over.
Tessa opened the box and looked at the silver link bracelet. Attached at even intervals were six silver charms.
"It's a charm bracelet," Richie told her in case she hadn't noticed. "I remembered you showing me your old one when we moved. You said everything that was important to you was on that bracelet in one form or another. Then I realized something; Dad and I weren't on there. But it was so full; we decided to get you a new one."
"That is so sweet of you," Tessa told him, putting a hand on his cheek then giving Duncan a kiss.
"It was his idea," Duncan told her. "I just jumped on the band wagon."
"See, this one," Richie interrupted pointing at the first charm, a small flashlight. "Is me. for when I broke in. get it?" She gave a little laugh and nodded. "This one," he pointed at a knife. "Is Dad. They didn't have swords, but this looks kinda like the katana. And this one," an apple. "Is Washington. Washington apples," he smiled proud of his pun. "This," a palm tree. "Is Rhode Island. Tree, tropics, island," he explained. "The treasure chest is the antique store. 'Cause there was that chest that you wouldn't let anyone buy 'cause you liked it. And the palette is for the art store."
"That was very creative," Tessa told him. "Did you think of all this by yourself?"
"Dad helped."
"Mostly with the check," Duncan smiled.
"Yeah, I was kinda low on cash," Richie admitted. "So my present to you is I'm not gonna complain. not once. that I'm stuck in this horrible, itchy, suffocating suit all night. And Dad's gonna make me dance with you."
"I think you just blew that one, Rich," Duncan told him.
"Oh, we'll just start now," Tessa said running to Richie's rescue.
"No, don't worry," Richie told her. "I figured that would happen. so I brought a back up." He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small felt pouch.
"Don't look at me," Duncan shrugged when Tessa glanced at him. "I don't know what it is."
Tessa opened the pouch and looked at the small, silver, baby bottle charm inside.
"It's for the adoption," Richie told her.
"What are the numbers for?" she asked each of the five sides had numbers engraved on them.
"In order. my birthday, the day I met you guys, the date on the adoption certificate, the day you told me, and my initials. Do you like it?"
"Oh, Richie." Tessa turned the bottle in her hands. "How thoughtful." She gave him a hug and a kiss.
"You like it?" he asked again.
"I love it." She wiped at her teary eyes.
"Good." He smiled proudly.
A little while later the food came. They talked about the upcoming year. Duncan had been volunteered to teach a couple night classes along with his daily classes. Tessa's store had become very popular once she added weekly beginners' classes. Richie had baseball as well as the free lance art class he had been convinced to sign up for to look forward to as well as all the activities that came with senior year: senior pictures, prom, graduation, and (Richie's favorite) off campus lunch.
After dinner, Richie amazed Tessa with his basic dance moves. Duncan was much better on the dance floor so he and Tessa danced for almost an hour. Richie mostly left them to themselves but cut in every now and then. After Richie convinced them they had had enough dancing, they went home for the cake Duncan and Richie had made.
. . . . . .
School started two weeks before Richie's birthday. Richie came home after his first day bubbling over with excitement about the year. He told Tessa how much he loved his art class. His English class was going to be mostly writing, which he still had a problem with, so he was a little apprehensive. But, he had talked to his teacher after class and he was willing to give Richie some extra help if he needed it. His reading class, the one Tessa forced him to sign up for, was small and he said it would be 'okay'. He, Nathan, Ginger and Shawna had gone to Study Hall, where they went every Friday, for lunch. He also got to show off his bike and got tons of attention for it.
They waited dinner on Duncan who got home around eight. Richie once again told the story of his wonderful day and how much he looked forward to the upcoming school year. Duncan told them about how long his day had been. He did not have great expectations for the year.
. . . . . .
September 19th, Richie went to bed with the promise of not having to go to school on his birthday, which landed on a Friday. Friday morning, Richie woke up most unpleasantly. Duncan entered Richie's room at five in the morning. As luck would have it, Richie was sound asleep on his stomach. With a smile, Duncan raised his hand and brought it down with a WHACK on Richie's boxer clad butt.
Richie woke with a start and a yelp. "What the hell?"
"One," Duncan told him. WHACK! "Two. Happy Birthday, by the way."
"Hey!"
WHACK!
"Three."
"Mom!" Richie yelled, struggling to untangle himself from his sheets,
WHACK!
"Four."
"Mom!"
WHACK!
"Five."
"MOOOOOOOMMMMM!!"
WHACK!
"Six."
"AGGGH!!"
"What's going on up here?" Tessa asked, laughing in the doorway. Richie had wiggled his top half off the bed, but his legs were tangled in the sheets and his butt was positioned perfectly for Duncan, who was happily whacking away counting as he went.
"Birthday spankings," he explained. WHACK! "Seven."
"Make him stop!"
WHACK!
"Eight."
"Mom, you can't." WHACK! "OW!"
"Nine."
"Let him do this!"
"And why not?" she asked not moving.
WHACK!
"Ten."
"Cause!" WHACK! "Stop it!"
"Eleven."
"Oh, Richie. He's almost done. It will be over soon."
WHACK! "Twelve." WHACK! "Thirteen."
"Good enough! Stop, please!"
WHACK!
"Fourteen."
"Duncan, at least stop hitting him so hard."
WHACK!
"Fifteen. I'm barely touching him." WHACK! "Sixteen."
"My ass you're not touching me!" Richie protested.
WHACK!
"Seventeen. And I think we need to," WHACK! "Eighteen. Talk about your language."
"I'm sorry!"
WHACK!
"Nineteen."
"Finally."
WHACK!
"And one to grow on."
"Done now?"
WHACK!
"And one for your language." Duncan looked at Tessa. "Anything else while he's stuck?"
"His room is pretty messy," she said. "He was supposed to clean it."
WHACK!
"OW!"
"Anything else?" Duncan asked. Tessa shook her head. "What about you, Rich. You been up to anything we should know about?"
"Nu-huh," he assured him.
"Okay."
WHACK!
"What was that for?!" Richie demanded.
"Just in case."
Tessa made Richie's favorite breakfast for him. Chocolate chip pancakes, link sausage, bacon, biscuits, and fresh berries where on the table when he finally came down. He made a big show of getting a cushion from the couch to sit on before inhaling the food. He blatantly ignored Duncan and only spoke to Tessa using the shortest phrases possible. After Duncan and Tessa cleared the table, (Richie was excused from all chores for the day) they begged him to join them in the living room. Only when Duncan threatened to return his presents to the store did he go in.
Richie got a new pair of gloves and a scarf that matched his letterman jacket, a new set of pastels and charcoal pencils, a set of sketch books in all different sizes, a set of canvases and frames, an easel, all new catcher's gear: a helmet and mask, chest protector, and shin guards; five cds, six movies and some clothes.
"Mom," Richie groaned, looking into a box containing a new suite and tie. "I wear enough of this crap at school!"
All in all it was a good haul. They spent the day having Richie model his new clothes and his baseball uniform complete with catcher's gear, watching movies, and eating his favorite meals. That night Ginger, Nathan, and Shawna took him to dinner and a movie.
Richie got home in time for cake and one more movie. He piled all his presents into the spare upstairs room to deal with Saturday and went to bed. Early the next morning, Richie woke with a start when a hand clamped over his mouth. He started to yell, but the noise didn't carry past the hand. He started to struggle, but the person who was holding him was stronger than he was and he didn't manage to move at all. Once Richie realized that he didn't have a chance, he stopped moving and waited to see what the stranger would do to him.