Author's note: Same as usual, the characters and past events that happened to them below age 13 are not mine, but are Nickelodeon's and Klasky-Csupo's. And sorry for making Phil a priest. All ages are approximations.

Rugrats Midlife: Reunion

Chapter Three: Planning the Party

Dammit, I told myself, I was right. I'm not familiar with this town anymore, and to think it was only six years away from this place! This was where you spent your childhood, Thomas, and you suddenly forget about everything that has to do with your old neighborhood! Shame on you.

I looked behind me, checking what in blazes Finster was up to. He was busy with his laptop (Eaglecom-made, naturally), presumably checking his e-mail or playing solitaire-he's into old-fashioned games, but whatever he was doing, he sure looked busy. And then I looked at the surroundings, getting the car as slow-paced as possible. I was still wearing my service uniform, complete with tie, olive-drab coat and peaked cap, and combined with the newly-polished Cresta I was driving and with a smartly-dressed Chuckie Finster attending to his computer behind me, well, God knows what those folks seeing us were thinking, presuming they don't know this Cresta was mine, WHICH THEY DON'T.

"Left turn, Tom, to the left," Chuck said from the back.

"Left turn it is, boss," I replied in jest.

"Well, Tomas, it is fitting that you remove that cap of yours if you feel that way," Señor Carlos retorted. "Besides, you offered your car after our chance meet at Java Lava."

"Remind me to start drinking decaf then," was my final answer before both of us started laughing our heads off.

After a while, I spotted the place: a distinct cream-colored house along the road. And standing by the yard, bordered by petunias and some bushes, wearing a straw hat that covered her bun-styled salt-and-pepper hair, orange blouse and skirt covered by a blue apron, was no other than Mrs. Kira Finster herself.

God bless her. After my mother died, she became a sort of guiding light for the rest of us. I remember her saying to the two of us brothers at the funeral, "Tommy, Dil, I still believe that your Didi still had some things to impart to you, even at this stage. I do have some ideas on what those are, and feeble as this request may be, I would want you to be my sons, even for a while." Sons. Both of us, most especially me, cried at her shoulders. It was too much for us to bear. At any rate, she served as a mother to us at the time most parents consider themselves unneeded. I wrote to her frequently from my stations, and she wrote back. I comforted her when Chuckie's dad passed away. I learned conversational Japanese from her, and in return I taught her conversational Spanish-she was going to Cancun with Kimi at that time. Her curry was superb.

Now, I could lionize Chuckie's stepmother all day, but I really don't have the time, so I'll go on: when I saw her in front of the house, I parked the car at the edge of the sidewalk, opened the door, and doffed my cap.

"Konichiwa, okasama! (Good afternoon, mother)!" was the first thing I uttered, to be responded by a "Buenos tardes, mi hijo! (Good afternoon, my son!) on her part. After a few seconds, all three of us burst into laughing for unexplainable reasons.

After the laughter died down, Chuckie was the first to say something decent. "Won't we go in now?" And so on we all went in, but not without a backpat from the old lady first.

I hung my cap on the hat rack, next to Mrs. Finster's straw hat, as we followed her to the kitchen/casual dining room, where a PDA (yep, Eaglecom again), some envelopes, and a glass of iced tea were awaiting. We all sat down on the dinner table, with Mrs. Finster removing her apron, turning on the PDA and rummaging through the envelopes, all opened awhile ago. Even retired people work their sorry asses off, I thought to myself.

"For some reason, Kimi's going back earlier," she stated as she stared at the PDA. "Says she wants to see career prospects here, but I'm taking it with a pinch of salt. All indications are she's trying to get over her loss of love. I feel so helpless knowing I was once in her shoes before." Oh yeah, Paris. A lovely working vacation. A disaster, the late Mr. Finster remarked, narrowly averted when he nearly married a mean corporate climber. A way the two girls made their way into our lives.

"Gee, about time," a glum-faced Charles responded, then suddenly brightening up. "But then look at the bright side, Ma, at least Sis will be here. As for you, Tom, that consultancy thing you were thinking about will one way or another be realized-she's been at it for 7 years." At this, Mrs. Finster raised an eyebrow and looked at me in a puzzled way. I immediately explained to her the same litany I told you and Chuckie-the disappointments, loss of morale, botched resignation, the whole caboodle. But at least she was silent and calm. No reaction. At last, someone who just listened.

Trying to change the topic, she then took out one of the opened envelopes and looked at its contents for a while. Then, she said, "Philip's been reassigned by the Father Superior to the Xavier Catholic Academy here. Same position, Biology teacher second year high, but location is everything."

"Amen to that!" I replied. Then it occurred to me-the old gang was being brought in here again! Chuckie, Kimi, Philip, Lillian, yours truly, Dil, Susie, cousin Angelica-looks like an opportune reunion! "Say, why don't we have a reunion? We can work out the details right now!"

"That would be wonderful," Chuck stated, his bashfulness that marked him as a kid and tweenager kicking in again, "but where the heck do we do that? We might be spending too much as well."

"I agree with you, son," Mrs, Finster replied, "but I do think we can solve that problem." Her meticulous mind went to work immediately, which explained her outfit awhile back-she had been gardening, being strong and sharp even at her age. "Hmm, that would be a maximum of eleven of you, spouses included, plus five children and, let's see, Stu, me, Howard, Betty, Fernando, Celia, Rupert, Drew, Charlotte, that would be 25 persons all in all, too bad Dr. Carmichael, Magdalene and the Joneses passed away. Food for 25 isn't that hard-just a catering service will do, but then..." She was adjusting her glasses, thinking how to adjust the pressure as well. For an old lady of 65 she sure had a good memory. "Meanwhile we may have to charter a karaoke and a singer."

And where to hold it? "In my place," Chuckie volunteered, traces of shyness gone. "Big enough for a quarter-hundred folks, Ma. Don't worry about the food and karaoke-Madie and the folks back home will handle that, but we may need some help with service. Uncle Edmund can surely help. The sound system at home may help."

How about invitations? My turn. "We'll work the phones if we need to, Mrs. Finster. We'll call and check if they have something to do by..." When?

"Saturday next week," Chuck said in reply. "City Day. No chance businesses will be open. Angelica's a concern, since her deadline's on Monday, and oh, how she hates deadlines!" Obviously he's been reading too much of that blowhard.

"Nothing to say?" Mrs. Finster said. Silence. "I'll take that as a yes." Right choice, Kira. "Count me in that as well-looks like all things are settled." We then left our chairs and went straight to the living room phone. Action time.

And that's how to plan a reunion. Now how that plan is set in motion will be seen on Chapter Four: Officially Known as Rugrats, soon!

P.S. Any questions? Suggestions? Send proposals to ceig13yahoo.com. Credits fo the best!